Page 198 of On a Fault Line

39

PENNY

The worst part of getting over a breakup is pretending that I’m not dying inside.

It’s on days like these where I feel summarily inadequate. I stumble around, trying to keep the superficial smile plastered to my face, while forcing myself to inhale and exhale at the appropriate time to at least appear human in public.

I’ve been just surviving for days—and doing it barely.

But it’s when I allow the thought ofwhat ifto creep in through the cracks that I trigger the unabridged panic to rise and the abyss of rejection to deepen.

Collins Stone wants nothing to do with me.

His look of pathetic indifference sealed that conclusion for me.

It’s when I’m confronted head-on with the reality that my heart may survive, but it will be forever fractured, that I try to envision my new life—a life without the man I love in it—and the silent wish that the darkness lurking from the sidelines will fade with time.

I feel like a fraud.

I’m faking my motivation to get dressed up and to pretend to enjoy small talk with people who will see my outward smile and genuinely think I’m happy.

Spoiler alert, I’m not fine.

And I’m questioning if I’ll ever be able to find contentment again.

I’m falling apart at my core, and there isn’t a single person on this planet who understands that I’ve fallen in love and am devastated from the loss of that love.

My family doesn’t even believe me.

How could I possibly fall for my hired bodyguard?

How does someone sixteen years older than I am have anything in common with me?

I know that’s what my brothers are thinking, at least.

Collins has been an invisible string woven into my past and my present, tying my life together in ways I can only now see once that string got cut.

And despite being over, my heart still yearns for the kind of love I disillusioned myself into believing I deserve.

But why strive to be whole when the person who holds the glue walked out at the first sign of trouble?

Instead, I’ll aim for being just a shell.

I just need to go through the motions and hope no one really notices anything is off so I don’t get more privileges stripped from me with the overarching explanation being, “I’m doing this for your protection.”

If moving forward means putting one foot in front of the other, then that’s what I’m trying to do. Besides, I promised my dad I would participate in his annual charity auction. I owe him my presence here tonight and a tad bit more.

So here I am—participating—with my fraudulent smile in place.

This will be the first social event I’ll be attending since Collins walked out of my apartment, leaving me covered in my own tears and vomit.

I don’t take pride in being the one who was hurt the most out of the two of us. I’d much rather take the physical pain he received at the hands of Graham than the emotional torture he put me through when he acted like what we had was just a business transaction.

But it’s that fresh reminder of pain that keeps my heart guarded from anyone who might want to do it more harm.

Grabbing my name card and the seating number, I weave between the beautifully decorated tables until I find the correct one.

In agreeing to stay away from Collins, I made my brothers promise to give me some space. I’m shocked that they seem to be complying.

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