Page 171 of Splintered Hearts

“I think I’m getting a boner.” They both step back. “What, no threesome?! This is the last time I’m going to be single. Better shoot your shot now. Although, if we can get Jamie in the mix I think that’ll be a very therapeutic bonding orgy. Maybe all that anger between you and Jamie is just sexual frustration.”

“Oh my god, get out.” Mark pushes me toward the door.

“What? What better group activity could we do? It’s a bonding experience!”

“Get the fuck out, Noah.” Hunter pushes me toward the door. “Tell Jamie I said hi.” Shutting the door, I smile and rush to my car.

Forty Four

Noah

Sitting in this driveway for the last five minutes was getting me nowhere. I have to go in. I know that. My mind’s already made up. I just can’t force myself to move. I’m terrified and afraid he’ll hurt me again.

But although I’m scared, I’m doing this.

Getting out of the car, I walk up the steps, not bothering to knock, just walking in. Toeing off my shoes, I walk into the living room but don’t see Jamie, just another envelope. It’s quiet in the house, no signs of life at all.

Is he here? Or will this just lead me to another spot? I love the letters, and the scavenger hunt is fun, but I just need to see him. I’ve been at war with my own mind since Jamie told me about his accident. My heart broke for him. I just couldn’t trust myself around him then. While what happened to him was devastating, the way he treated me was not okay.

I need to know that won’t happen again.

Picking up the letter, I begin to read.

Hey baby,

I got to be honest. It’s come to my understanding and realization right now that you maybe aren’t going to read any of these. Honestly, that’s fine, and I hope that whatever you do, wherever you go you’re always happy. Since I don’t even think you’ll read this I’m going to say some really embarrassing shit,because you probably fled the country after finding the love of your life who treats you so much better than I ever could.

He fucking better.

So, you’re probably drowning in love and orgasms with some asshole from like, Italy or some shit, with a pretentious name like Luca or something fancy. I don’t know why I think Italy, but I see him being Italian. Tall, handsome, can cook way better than I can. Giant cock of course. Fuck, I hate that fictional man I just made up. Anyway, back to us, or I guess, what used to be us.

Before I ruined it.

On the coffee table are sketchbooks. I mean, depending on the time frame in which you read these, there should be. Or maybe you won’t read these at all, and they’re just sitting there to rot for all eternity.

I think you’re here, though. I like to think so.

Go ahead and look through the one on the table. After we met that first night, Bri bought me a sketchbook. I hadn’t drawn anything since Luci’s death, but meeting you was like a spark of life. Once I started drawing, I couldn’t stop. I hope you like them.

I grab the sketchbook, opening the first page and seeing a little note with washi tape.

For my little fox.

I put the note aside with shaky hands. I’m not sure why I’m so nervous. Turning the page, my skin heats with memory. Unlike the one with me looking up at Jamie, this one is lewd and detailed, but although the erotic image is dirty, there’s something about it that warms me. Jamie took great care in drawing me, and seeing myself the way Jamie does makes my chest flicker with heat.

Best Interview Ever.

I laugh at the title, turning the page as our memories play out. The sketchbook is half filled with various memories we’ve shared. Me on the couch reading, cooking, playing games, sleeping. Jamie drew picture after picture as if his fingers didn’t know how to do anything else. Pausing on the last picture, I take it in—Jamie on his back, looking up at me while I fucked him at the lake house. It’s detailed and really fucking good. What stops me, though, is the look in my eyes. They carry so much love. So much love. He’s captured it perfectly. While what he said when we got back hurt me, I know now, without a doubt, he didn’t mean it. I assumed that, anyway, but seeing this picture confirms it for me. Jamie doesn’t do well with words and gets frustrated when things don’t come out right. Jamie’s feelings are expressed with art, not words. This drawing, though? One thing is clear. Jamie loves me—really, really loves me—and he knows how much I love him back.

Grabbing the note, I finish reading.

After that first night we met, I picked up a pencil and I couldn’t stop. I just wanted to draw you. Every day, you’re all I thought about. Then you moved in.

It was hard for me to tell you how much I wanted you. So I drew instead. That first night in my room. That night you video-called me. When you moved in. When you kissed the scar on my chest. Fuck, I fell a little bit in love with you then.

Moment after moment, I drew, because I just needed all this pent-up feeling to go somewhere. I’m not good with words—at least not saying them out loud. None of these letters are good, I know that. I’m not great with words but I am good at drawing and that’s the best way I can show you.

The first night I started to realize I may love you was the night I saved you from that asshole at the restaurant.Seriously, fuck that guy. I hope his pillow is always warm. I hope he steps on a lego every day for the rest of his life. I hope he hits every red light for the rest of eternity.

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