Page 133 of Branded Hearts

“They’re wrong. I did nothing.”

Daniels scoffs. “Who are you tryna bullshit? Because it ain’t working for me, mate.” He goes silent for a moment. “Is this about Amelia?”

My body goes rigid. “What?”

“Reynolds told me about her. Sorry,” he says, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Says that your foul mood might have something to do with her leaving.”Leaving?What’s he talking about?

“Leaving?”

“Yeah, she went to Sydney. For some exhibition or some shit. I dunno.”

Fuck. Iforgotabout her exhibition. I could kill Reynolds right now.

“What else did he tell you?” How the fuck does he know?

“Dunno, man. Go and ask him,” he says, nodding to the station.

“Fuck,” I mutter to myself.

“Hey, for what it’s worth, she made youhappy, Bradley. You changed over these past few weeks. Whatever happened between the two of you, get it sorted.” Daniels says with a crooked smile.

How could I forget about her exhibition? She had asked if I’d bethere, and I had told her I would be. And yet, I fucking forgot. How pathetic. That’s the only word that comes to mind.

My heart sinks as I think about how disappointed she must be feeling. How could I have been so careless? I storm inside, not wanting to hear any more.

“Reynolds!” I bark out, searching for him. Woody and Stokes look up from their desks, confusion on their faces. They both point to the lunchroom, and I barge in.

“Bradley, what’s up?” he says with a smile, sitting at one of the tables with another constable.

“How doyouknow thatsheleft?” My voice is sharp, demanding answers.

His brows furrow for a moment before recognition forms in his eyes. “Rose told me. She said Amelia ran into her in town the other day and they spoke about everything.”

“Everything?” I ask, not putting two and two together.

“Yeah, Amelia said she’s taken more time off than she needs to, just to get away, to think and just wait…”

His words trail off, and I growl, “Think about what? Wait for what?”

“To see if things sort themselves out,” he finishes, shooting me a knowing look. Does she mean my sister, or does she mean me?

I fucking told her I’d wait for her.

And Imeantit.

I’d wait a fuckinglifetime,for her, if it meant she’d come back to me.

45

The Night We Met - Lord Huron

Today has been a day. I’m exhausted.

I can’t remember the last time I did this much walking. My Fitbit tells me that I’ve walked over sixteen-thousand steps, and I almost passed out when we got back to my sister’s place.

I had ended up taking a whole week off work, instead of just a few days—with the kids going on holiday soon, my boss didn’t make a fuss about it. I just needed someextratime away.

I need to giveLivsome more time.

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