Page 108 of A Little Broken

“That’s insane,” I repeat.

“It is, but it’s kind of cool, too. Don’t you think?”

My mouth lifts as I absorb Paxton’s fascination. He’s so…animated. It makes him look younger. Cuter. Not hot. Cute. There’s a difference, and I’m pretty sure I’ve never wanted to kiss him more.

Ignoring the urge, I point out, “Sounds nerdy.”

“But cool,” he pushes.

“Sure, it is.” I give him the side-eye, keeping my thoughts on lockdown because okay, yeah. It is kind of cool. That one person can affect people so much, a group of people sign up multiple generations to honor him.

Crazy.

“So what’s your point, Pax?” I ask.

“Points,” he clarifies. “I have multiple.”

I chuckle softly. “And they are?”

“One, it’s okay for someone to make a lasting impression.”

My teeth dig into the inside of my cheek. “And two?”

“Two, there’s nothing wrong with taking your time to appreciate something, even if it’s a single note played over years. Honestly, there’s beauty in it. With celebrating something to the fullest. With accepting the beauty that something is, even if it’s as small as a single note or chord. And you can take your time, Birthday Girl. You can take your time and appreciate it for what it is and how it makes you feel.You. Not anyone else.”

The words hit hard. Harder than I expect. Maybe they shouldn’t. Maybe they should. Honestly, I’m not sure. And I’m not sure if it matters, either. Not in the long run.

“And when the composer decides it’s time for a new note?” I whisper.

“Then, I think that’s worth celebrating, too. But the cool thing is, you’re the composer for this song, Tate. You andonlyyou. You get to decide when you’re ready to move on, to let go, to choose when a new chord is played and what that chord is. Your sister, and her fiance, and Rory? They’re composing their own songs, but even if they’re at a different pace or in different keys, it doesn’t take away from yours.”

Well, shit. I shift on the bed, unsure what to say or how to react. Because it’s strange. How…fitting his analogy is. Nerdy, but fitting. Whether it’s my life or my grief or…anything at all, I’ve been so busy focusing on—and criticizing—other people’s journeys, I haven’t been able to accept my own.

“Thank you,” I finally whisper.

“Anytime.” He grabs my knee and squeezes. “And who knows? Maybe you’ll learn to appreciate the new note, too. Whenever you’re ready to play it.”

I look down at his hand, the familiar lump lodging like a cork in my throat before I swallow it back.

“And on that note—pun intended,” he murmurs as he stands, “I’m gonna give you some space.”

“Wait.”

He stops his retreat. “Yeah?”

“How do you…how do you know so much about this? I’m pretty sure I got more from this conversation than I did years of therapy, so…”

A grimace etches into his handsome features, and he sighs. “It’s, uh, it’s a long story.”

It is. I can tell by the look on his face. The sadness in his eyes. The curve of his shoulders. And even though I have no good reason to pry—and would slap him if the roles were reversed—I remind him weakly, “I told you mine.”

“You did, didn’t you.” Giving in, he says, “My dad left when I was twelve. My mom lost her shit, turning into a shell of a human being. And instead of being there for her. Instead of helping her and being patient with her, I hated her for it. I’d already lost one parent, and she decided to take another one from me? It wasn’t fair.” He shakes his head. “So, I left as much as I could. I roamed the streets. I got into trouble. I stole. I fought. I did whatever I could to get back at her and bring the spotlight back to me. My pain. My loss.Me.” He exhales. “Want to know how she responded?”

“How?”

“By spiraling into a deeper and deeper depression before killing herself a few years later.” He sighs again. “Morbid, right? IndieCent Vows was finally going somewhere and she called, asking for money. I told her she didn’t deserve a cent, then hung up the phone. Got a call from the coroner a week later.”

Like a punch to the gut, I try and steady my breathing, but also, “Shit,” I breathe out.

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