Page 108 of Brittle Heart

I need to figure out how to continue and get Sophia’s help without putting her in harm’s way. The situation is risky, but I can’t let it go.

It’s nearly time to go to the bar when we sit at our desks, discussing the results of the tests we made today. Joshua comes in smiling but focuses on me as he approaches my desk. “Hey.”

“You guys are late today. Wait, where’s Clay?” Sophia asks.

“He had to report to Swanson for a little longer,” he says, placing a package wrapped in black paper in front of me.

I look at it curiously. “What’s this?”

“Happy belated birthday…” he says, but then smiles and adds, “… or would you prefer early Merry Christmas?”

“Neither,” I say honestly.

His smile falters a bit, making me feel guilty. Reluctantly, I open the package and find a brand-new phone inside.

“What did you do?” I whisper, looking up at him in horror.

“You needed a new phone. Yours is broken, and you can’t go around with a broken phone,” he says casually.

“And what made you think you needed to buy me one?” I ask, my agitation growing.

“You told me you couldn’t afford it right now, and I can. Why shouldn’t I help? I care for you,” he counters, sounding a bit defensive.

“I don’t need anyone swooping in to take care of me,” I say, standing and grabbing my backpack. “If being with someone who doesn’t have enough money for new things isn’t good enough for you, then I’m not good enough, and you should look elsewhere.”

“That’s not what this is,” Josh starts, but I’m already heading for the door. “Fuck, Carolina, wait!” he calls after me, following me and grabbing my forearm to make me stop.

Pain shoots through me, and an “Ah” slips out of my lips, face scrunched up.

He lets go of me immediately, “What—” he starts.

“Don’t,” I warn, glaring at him.

It’s enough to make him step back, and I leave without another word from him.

CHAPTERFORTY-TWO

Joshua

Our shift is over, and we’re parked down the street from the bar Carolina works at. I couldn’t bring myself to drive home. I need to talk to her, but I want to wait until she finishes her shift. It wouldn’t be right to barge in while she’s working to discuss our personal stuffagain.

We watch as the last patrons leave the bar, followed by her blonde coworker and a shorter man with a beer belly, who walk out arm in arm. I watch as Carolina locks the door behind them through the glass entrance.

It’s now or never.

“Do you think this is a good idea?” Clay asks, his concern etched on his face.

I furrow my brows. “What do you mean? I need to apologize. I messed up.”

He tilts his head, studying me. “Do you truly believe that? Or are you just saying sorry to avoid her being mad at you?”

His words make me pause and consider his perspective. I can see where she’s coming from, but I don’t think I’m entirely in the wrong. She needed help, and I provided it. It’s her pride that’s standing in the way.

“If you go in there without being fully ready to acknowledge you are in the wrong, this could blow up, and we don’t want that,” he says.

“So, what do you suggest I do?” I ask, feeling torn.

“I think I should talk to her first, gauge her feelings a bit. Right now, she needs a friend more than a boyfriend. Look, I’ll call you and put my phone in my pocket so you can hear our conversation. What do you think?” Clay asks.

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