Page 70 of Bleeding Hearts

With a reduced course load, Felix is now happily enrolled as a part-time college student. He attends high school for the first three hours, taking fun classes like shop, food economics, and PE. After lunch, I pick him up and bring him back to campus with me. He’s taking the basics for now. Learning how to manage college classes as a fifteen-year-old. He quickly realized that college was nothing like high school. The expectations were higher, and he was no longer being spoon-fed the material. Instead, he was expected to put in the effort outside of class. For a couple of weeks, he struggled with time management, but now has it under control and is thriving, just as I expected.

It’s been an adjustment for both boys. The other kids teased Finn, calling him the dumb twin, and he’s had to learn how to keep his anger under control. Give me a break. Finn is far from dumb. He’s just not as advanced as Felix, but he’s taking geometry, a sophomore math class, Pre-AP English, and Pre-AP Biology. He could be in more, but I didn’t want him taking ontoo much since he plays three sports: football, basketball, and lacrosse. Sports take up a ton of his time, which is a good thing for that kid. He needs them to keep him out of trouble.

Juggling both of their schedules has made it nearly impossible for me to address the shitshow my life has become. I feel like a zombie, pretending to be okay while dealing with the consequences of my own actions.

I miss Nolan.

It’s like an iceberg bigger than the one that took down the Titanic has parked itself between us. I’ve tried chipping away at it, but until I’m ready to take a flame thrower to it and admit he was right, it’s not going anywhere. And with each passing day, I swear it grows taller and thicker. Soon there will be no way for me to bust through, and I’ll have only myself to blame.

It’ll take an act of astronomical proportions to align just the right way to get us back on track. Which may explain my odd behavior. Why I’ve turned to the one person I’m hoping can help me talk my way through this mess I’ve made, by using her powers from beyond the grave to show me the way.

“It’s me again,” I say as I take a seat on the bench across from where she rests in peace. “I bet you’re tired of listening to me by now.”

I’ve been coming here since Mollie introduced us on Halloween. Morbid? Maybe? But who else am I supposed to talk to? Everyone knows psychologists are as bad as doctors. We know the importance of taking care of others, but we often neglect our own mental health.

“He’s as grumpy as ever. Refuses to even acknowledge me. I seriously think I could walk out of my house naked and he wouldn’t even notice.” It’s crossed my mind that’s how desperate I’ve become. “I know I hurt him. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. It’s not like I planned this. He shouldn’t have beenso damn irresistible and wormed his way in like a parasite you can’t get rid of without major surgery.”

The warm wind blows around me, picking up the scent of spring. It’s been a long, exhausting winter and I’m tired of the gloom. I want a fresh start. I need to find a way to turn this around. A way to prove, through actions and unwavering support, that my loyalty is unshakeable, and I’ll always stand firmly by his side, fighting whatever storms may come. That if he gives me another chance, I’ll never run again.

“One quick question before I go.” Standing there, I feel a giggle welling up inside me, growing stronger as I get closer and prepare to whisper. I don’t want the older woman, fifteen feet down from me, to overhear. “Did he ruin you, too? I mean seriously, I’m far from a saint. I’ve had my share of men. But Nolan is in a damn league of his own. Not even my best toys scratch that hellish itch. Between you and me, I think he does it on purpose.”

There’s no response, not that I expected one. There’s just something about this place that makes me feel a connection to Stephanie. It’s not something I understood before, not until I watched her daughter, who can’t remember her because she wasn’t even a year old when her mother died. Yet when I was granted the opportunity to witness Mollie sharing with her mother, it shined a whole new light on what a place like this represents.

Placing my hand on her name, I sigh. “You have an amazing family. I hope you know what the fuck you’re doing by trusting them in my care.”

This time, as I walk away, a voice in my head offers me some wisdom.

Buckle up, it’s about to get interesting.

That doesn’t make me feel better. If anything, it pushes my need to rush home so I can check on everyone.

In a hurry, I fumble with my purse, the cold SUV door handle a shock to my hand as I climb inside. Just as I’m about to pull away, my phone rings and Kellie’s name flashes on my dashboard.

“Hello.”

“She can’t breathe!” The car fills with the piercing, high-pitched sound of Mollie’s cries, a desperate wail that shreds through the quiet. “We can’t find her special pen.”

Oh, my god.

“Mollie, hang up and call 9-1-1.”

“Grammy already did.” The fear in Mollie’s voice mirrors the intensity of my own. “I called you because Daddy and Aunt Cora are working. Grammy took us for ice cream. Miss Beth, is my sissy gonna die?”

Jesus.

Her words amp up my need to find them.

“Where are you?” With trembling fingers, I unlock my phone, desperately hoping Kellie’s sharing her location. She shouldn’t be, but sometimes teens forget to turn that feature off, and I really hope that’s the case today.

“The ice cream place not far from school. The one with the big cone.”

I close my eyes and think. She’s four and can’t read. I need to think like her and remember which ice cream place has a big cone on its sign.

“Andy’s?” I confirm that when the dot that represents her location flashes. “I’m just around the corner. I’m coming.”

As I throw my car in reverse, the tires screech against the pavement, echoing through the cemetery. Traffic is heavy, making me slow down as I ease my way onto the main road.

“Her lips are turning blue.” Mollie informs me, her crying getting louder.

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