Page 170 of The Temporary Fiancée
I’ve been staying at my parents’ house, avoiding everyone to the best of my ability. Luckily, both of them know better than to pry; they welcomed me home, but they’re mostly staying out of my way, giving me the space I need to nurse my broken heart.
I couldn’t stay at the penthouse after I came back from Reed’s office. It was too painful to be in this place, a place that I had, that very morning, considered my home.
Olivia isn’t wife material.
I couldn’t do it. So I left a note, gathered up my things to the best of my ability, and came here.
Of all the facets to my heartbreak, this is the one I expected the least: the pain of how little I had to do to remove myself from his life. To gather up my scattered belongings, call my father, and walk away.
Did I ever really belong there at all? Did I ever have so much as a foothold in his heart, or was I just a more elaborate distraction than most?
There’s a soft knock at my door, and my mother’s voice, muffled, from the hallway. “Sweetie? Are you in there?”
“Yeah,” I say, my voice raspy from crying. “Come in.”
The door swings open, and my mother shuffles into the room, smiling sadly at me when she sees me. She settles down on the side of the bed, reaching to stroke my hair like she used to do when I was a child, any time I was scared, or upset.
“How are you?” she asks gently.
“Bad,” I reply, my eyes stinging. I can feel the tears welling up again. I thought I’d cried the last of the moisture from my body, but apparently, there’s more in reserve.
“Oh, sweetie,” she says sympathetically, “I know. I know.”
I bring my arm up to cover my burning eyes, not wanting my mother to see me cry. She’s seen me cry plenty of times before, but I’ve never felt more vulnerable than this. I’ve never had my heart broken like this.
She strokes my hair in silence for a few minutes, then says, “I’m worried about you, you know.”
I sniff, wiping at my eyes, and say instinctively, “You don’t have to worry about me, mom.”
“Of course I have to worry about you. It’s what mothers do.” She pauses, then sighs. “I was so shocked when you told me that you and Reed had broken up.”
I know that, to a certain extent, she’s trying to coax the story out of me. I didn’t tell my parents what had happened, only the broadest strokes of the situation—that it didn’t work out between me and Reed, and that I needed somewhere to stay.
“You just seemed so in love,” my mother continues, which sends a fresh wave of heartache coursing through me. I swallow, trying to force the lump out of my throat.
“I know,” I say hoarsely. “I thought we were.”
She rests her hand on my cheek for a moment, her eyes sad, but loving. “You’ll be okay, sweetheart. You just need time to heal.”
I know that, logically, she’s right. But at the moment, it doesn’t feel like I’ll ever be okay again. I’m not sure how a broken heart heals from something this shattering. I’m not sure if it ever could.
My mother shifts her weight on the bed, then winces. Immediately, I sit upright, alarmed.
“Mom? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” She grimaces a little, taking away from the confidence of that statement. “Just a little tired. It’s nothing to worry about.”
“Nothing to worry about?” My father’s voice, in the doorway. I look up to see him standing there, gazing at my mother with love in his eyes. “Dear, you look exhausted. Why don’t I help you lay down? You deserve some rest.”
“It’s the middle of the day,” my mother protests, waving aside the suggestion—though I can tell that she really is tired, and in a bit of pain, too. “I’ll be fine.”
“Please.” He steps forward, holding out a hand to her. “Let me bring you to bed. I’ll make sure you’re comfortable.”
She looks like she’s about to disagree, but as she meets his gaze, her eyes soften. She nods. “Alright, fine.” She glances back at me. “Are you going to be okay, sweetie?”
“I’m fine, mom,” I assure her. “You go rest.”
My father helps my mother to her feet, and slowly, the two of them make their way out of my room. My father closes the door partway behind him, but I can still see them as they make their way through the hall.
