Page 199 of On a Fault Line

Ever since that horrible day where I threw myself at Collins’s feet and begged him to stay, I haven’t talked with my brothers. I am angry but don’t even know who to channel my frustration to the most.

The fact of the matter is, my brothers found out about my secret relationship with their right-hand man, and Collins didn’t do a damn thing to fight for what I thought we were building.

Then there’s Luke…

I thought he was my friend. But I can’t be mad at him for taking the exuberant amount my brothers probably paid him. Anyone in his position would have done the same.

He’s tried to reach out to me multiple times in the last week, still sticking to his story of not knowing anything about being paid to spy on me.

I just wish he would fess up so we can move forward. I don’t want a beef with him.

Portland is too small of a city to have enemies.

I take my seat at the huge circular table and wait quietly for more guests to arrive. I hate being first.

My fingers trail along the golden fabric of the tablecloth. Hurricane vases of beautiful white flowers make up the centerpiece. Every table is unique, yet sticking with the central core theme.

I’d be shocked if Momma had nothing to do with the artistic touches I’m now noticing in the details. It looks like I’m attending a wedding, and a glance at the menu that is resting on my dinner plate lets me know that there’s no way my stomach is going to fit all of the food.

Regardless, this will be more than I’ve eaten this week combined.

“I’m glad you are here,” Momma says, arriving next.

At least now I have company.

She gives me a hug. Wearing a floor-length, sheer red dress, she looks as stunning as ever.

I’ve been avoiding her and Dad since everything went down. They are the safety net that I couldn’t utilize in my life without them being upset with my brothers for how they handled things.

In a way, I’m protecting them from choosing sides. I’m not sure why. It’s just another example of how messed-up I truly am.

I don’t want to talk to anyone, and I sure as hell don’t need someone to rub in that this whole experience is for the best.

It’s not.

I don’t need the luxury of hindsight to understand that my life will never be whole again. I’m broken beyond repair, teetering on the edge of a major setback.

I’m going through the motions like a hollowed-out shell, doing what is expected of me, but not doing anything actually for me.

Collins was for me.

But he tossed me away just as he promised at one time he would.

That’s what happens when you build an entire relationship on a fault line. Things are destined to get shaken up eventually.

Leaning into me, Momma squeezes my hand. “I’m not going to ask you questions or suggest I have some wisdom to offer. But I just want you to know that I’m a call-all-hours-of-the-night mother. And that when you are hurting, so am I.”

I squeeze her hand back, fighting back the tears that want to escape. “There’s something wrong with me.”

“Oh, Penny,” she whispers, “there’s something wrong with all of us then.”

“I’m not sure what Nic and Graham have shared with you…”

“Nothing. They tell me nothing. I’m just going off my own intuition that never lets me down.”

I nod, biting at my bottom lip. “I’ve gone behind their backs and pursued someone who they don’t approve of, and now I am heartbroken and lonely and unlovable.”

Reaching into her handbag, Momma pulls out a handkerchief. “Have I ever told you about the time your father and I broke up?”