Etching Our Way (Broken Tracks Series Book 1) Page 17

  We walk down the cobblestone path and he guides me to an unfamiliar car.

  “New car?” I ask.

  He chuckles. “It is, but this isn’t the car I normally drive around in, this is my personal car.”

  I blush, of course he doesn’t drive around in the car he drives Tristan in all of the time. I sigh as he opens the door to the passenger seat for me. “You can get in you know, I won’t bite.”

  I chuckle and climb into the car being gently guided by him, feeling weird being in the front with him instead of in the back like all those years ago.

  He climbs into the driver’s seat and clears his throat. “I know tonight must’ve been a lot to—”

  “I was hot,” I interrupt him.

  He sighs. “You don’t have to pretend with me, Harmony. I was there too.”

  My eyes flutter closed at the memory.

  “Harmony?” I look up in despair at the familiar voice, but my eyes flit back down to the ground, not wanting him to see me like this. “Harmony, sweetheart...” He kneels beside me and pulls me into his chest. “What happened?”

  “Why are you here?” I bite out.

  “Trist—”

  “Don’t mention his name!” I shriek, halfway through a sob.

  “Alright, Harm,” he murmurs, rocking me back and forth for a minute before scooping me up into his arms.

  I fist his suit jacket in my hands. “Why has he done this to me?”

  He places me in the back seat of his car. “Let’s get you home. I’m sure things will be okay tomorrow.”

  “I was hot,” I repeat with less force, not believing my own words so I know that he won’t either.

  We reach the tunnel and he clears his throat. “Where to?”

  “Oh, Mom’s house,” I answer him, looking out of the window.

  “Your mom’s?” he asks, although I can hear the silent question behind it.

  “It’s temporary,” I state.

  He nods once, not asking the questions I know that he wants to.

  We spend the rest of the journey in silence until he pulls up to the house and jumps out of the car, running around and opening my door—like he used to.

  “Thank you,” I say, smiling up at him.

  He dips his head. “You’re very welcome. I… It’s not my place to say, but… he could really use a friend.”

  I wince. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”

  “Of course not,” he waves his hand. “Forget I said anything.” He picks up my hand and places a soft kiss on the top of my knuckles. “Take care, Harmony.”

  As soon as I’ve slid into my car, I close my eyes, leaning my head back on the headrest and taking a deep breath. When I woke up this morning, I never would have guessed what was going to happen today.

  I never thought I’d see Harmony ever again, let alone today. For the first month after I left her, I had Edward check on her every morning. Then for a couple of years after, I kept tabs on her, having regular updates.

  But when Clay was born, I decided I had to stop living in the past, to be in the here and now and concentrate on my family. I stopped getting people to check up on her, needing to forget about that part of my past.

  It wasn’t until she graduated that I found out that she was moving away, but as soon as Edward muttered the words, “Harmony” and “moving,” I shot him down, not trusting myself to think about her when I was trying to make things work at home.

  Things were good between Natalia and me at that stage in our lives; we had a family and were determined to be the parents that our own weren’t. To be there for our children: to attend everything we needed to, to read to them each night before tucking them into bed and giving them a kiss on the top of their head, letting them know that they’re loved more than anything in the world.

  I was handed the company not long after Clay was born, and although I knew it was going to be hard to earn everyone’s trust after what my father did, I was determined. With Natalia by my side, I knew that I could do it.

  Then Izzie was born and we lost her. With that, I was suddenly thrust into being a single parent, something that I never for a million years thought would happen.

  I spiraled and lost complete control over my life; living day to day, not caring about anything or anyone but the kids.

  With everything that was going on and feeling like I was alone, I reached out to Edward and asked him to check on Harmony again. The thought of seeing her face after all this time was the only thing that grounded me at that time.

  My head told me to leave it well enough alone, to let her get on with her life, but my heart was begging me to go to her, to ask for her forgiveness and to go back in time.

  But one look down at Clay’s three-year-old face and a look at Izzie’s eyes—the same blue as Natalia’s—had me snapping back to the man that I had become. The one who was trying to protect Harmony and be the father that mine wasn’t.

  When Edward came back with that envelope full of information, I knew that I couldn’t open it, but that didn’t mean that I threw it away. It still sits in the locked, bottom drawer of my desk to this day.

  My hands grip the steering wheel harder at that thought. Why did I keep it? Why didn’t I throw it away and be done with it?

  From that day on, I decided to be the best father that I could be, even if it meant sacrificing my happiness. Clay and Izzie were more important to me than anyone else; most of all me.

  Shaking the past from my head, I turn the key in the ignition, bringing the engine roaring to life as I head back to the studio. There’s no way that I’m sending the kids back here next week; I won’t let them be a pawn in this game she’s clearly playing.

  It takes me about twenty minutes to get there and when I do, I find a spot a couple of cars down from the studio. I start to open my door but two figures have me stopping in my tracks.

  I watch as a man and woman walk down the cobblestone path, the moonlight illuminating them as they get closer. My jaw clenches as I see Edward with his arm wrapped around Harmony’s shoulders.

  Why is he helping her?

  My eyes widen as I realize he probably knew she was back. Has he been talking to her all this time? Working with her so that she can do whatever the hell it is she’s doing here?

  They stop before they get to a car a couple of spaces ahead of me and my gaze flits over her auburn hair that is pulled up into a ponytail with a slight wave to it. I can almost feel the softness, imagining the way that it would feel as I run my fingers through it. I can almost smell the honey and almond scent that would wrap around us with the movement.

  I smack my palm off the steering wheel, hating where my thoughts immediately go.

  My eyes narrow into slits and my hands clench into fists as I watch Edward take her arm to help her get into his car. He’s a traitor; a traitor who I’ve treated like family.

  I don’t move, not when they’ve driven off, and not when people start to spill out of the studio.

  It’s not until I see Clay and Izzie with my mom and Amelia that my body finally gives in and I push open the door, sliding out and catching Izzie as she runs at me.

  “You missed it, Daddy!”

  I open my mouth to apologize when Clay pipes up. “We should ask Miss J if you can see everything next week at watching week.” He pushes his glasses up his nose and I smile, trying to cover the anger that is consuming my whole body right now.

  I want to blurt out that they won’t be coming back next week; there’ll be no watching week because they’ll never be near her again.

  “Maybe,” I manage to get out as I strap Izzie in her seat before Mom slides in between her and Clay.

  “Son—”

  I interrupt Mom, knowing what she’s about to say. “Not now,” I tell her, my voice leaving no room for argument.

  She flits her eyes between mine and relents. “Okay.”

  “Where’s Edward?” I look behind me as if I’m expecting him to appear at any second, only I
know that he’s not going to.

  “He… erm,” she stutters. “He had something to take care of, he’ll pick me up from your place later.”

  I nod, knowing she’s withholding information from me before slamming the door shut and climbing into the driver’s seat, catching Amelia’s gaze in the passenger seat as I pull out of the spot I’m parked in. I can see the questions in her eyes but I’m not willing to answer them, at least not yet anyway.

  Over the years Amelia has become my confidant, and I know I can talk to her about anything: she knows about Harmony, although not everything, but enough to know that Harmony being back will affect me, but she doesn’t know how much.

  “You okay?” she whispers.

  “I’m fine,” I grind out, the silence in the car deafening.

  She nods her head but doesn’t say anything else as I blow out a breath and look back out of the window wondering what I’m going to do.

  Life just got a hell of a lot messier.

  Artic Lake—Heal Me

  Emile Sande—Read All About It Pt.III

  I hesitate as I hear Mom opening and closing the cabinets in the kitchen before sighing and walking down the stairs to face the Spanish inquisition.

  She looks up from the counter with a small smile on her face and hands me a cup of coffee. “Hey, hon. How are you feeling?”

  We both walk through to the living room and she sits down in the armchair opposite me on the sofa, curling her feet underneath her like I have.

  “Fresh as a daisy after a good night's sleep,” I reply, lifting my lips into a small smile.

  “Good, good.” Her eyes flit between mine and I can tell that she’s desperate to say something but she’s holding back.

  I chuckle and take a sip of my coffee. “Say what you’ve got to say, God knows you will anyway.”

  “I don’t want to be a busy body, Harm, but… have you seen him since you’ve been back?”

  I know who she’s talking about without her voicing his name out loud, but I’m not in the mood to talk about him, especially so soon after seeing him for the first time in a decade.

  I shift in my chair, cupping my coffee cup in my hands. “Why would you ask that?”

  “You’re slipping into old habits. And I… I saw the painting in your studio, it’s not healthy.”

  I shrug. “That’s nothing, I’m fine.”

  “So?”

  “So, what?” I ask flippantly.

  “Have you seen him?”

  I shift in my chair. “I saw him for two minutes last night.” I take a deep breath before delivering my blow. “Clayton and Izzie are his kids.” Her eyes widen but she doesn’t look as shocked as I was expecting her to be. I lean forward, narrowing my eyes at the look on her face. “Mom?”

  She sighs, defeated. “I know.”

  “You know what?” I frown at her, my heart starting to beat faster in my chest.

  “I knew that Clayton and Izzie were his. I recognized him from your photos the second he stepped foot into the studio that first day.”

  My head swirls at her betrayal. “How could you not tell me?”

  She puts down her coffee cup and walks toward me, sitting down next to me. “I thought I was doing the right thing by not telling you right away. I planned on telling you after a few weeks, but you were so happy and I decided you discovering everything on your own may be better than it coming from me.”

  I place my cup down and stand, turning toward her. “I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me, I could’ve prepared myself. I would’ve—”

  “You would’ve hid away or done something drastic.” She stands and takes my hands in hers, her eyes begging for me to forgive her. “I’m sorry, hon.”

  I sigh. “I guess you’re right.” I look away from her and down at our hands. “But I’m sad that I won’t get to see them again, they were great kids.”

  “Why wouldn’t you see them again?”

  “He’s hardly going to want his college sweetheart that he wronged around his children, not that I’d ever in a million years treat them any differently, but he doesn’t know that.”

  She looks around the room. “I don’t know if this is the right advice but... maybe you should reach out to him and clear the air?”

  My head snaps toward her at her bold statement. “That’s the last thing I want to do.”

  Her face screws up. “Harmony, you’re going to be around each other whether you like it or not, so you have to be the bigger person. It’s about the kids; you know how much Clayton has come out of his shell over the last six weeks, he’s even interacting with the other kids. He needs this class.”

  “I know,” I mumble, finally relenting and my stomach doing somersaults at the thought of my next sentence. “If they don’t turn up on Saturday, I’ll call him.”

  She nods, letting go of my hands. “So, the man last night?”

  “Oh, Ed? He’s Tristan’s driver.” I roll my eyes. “He used to drive us around when…”

  She nods knowing what I was going to say before walking out of the living room. “We have to get going, I’ll be waiting in the car.”

  “Huh?” What does she mean?

  “Get your shoes on, we’ve got babies to cuddle.”

  She didn’t give me the option to say no this time and now I’m here, I don’t know why I haven’t ever come before. How do moms know exactly what you need, when you need it? I guess it’s instinct, but this right here has both warmed my soul and broken my heart at the same time. It’s put perspective on things.

  I look down at the tiny baby boy in my arms. His pink-colored skin looks like silk to the touch and his lips pucker as I run a finger over his cheek, finding my thoughts to be true. This tiny human is perfect, yet someone chose to destroy his first moments and a chance at life.

  I feel the tremors shake his body; he’s addicted to heroin and going through the motions of withdrawal. It’s not fair that this little life should have to pay for his birth mother’s bad choices, but that’s the reality of it.

  Mom smiles over at me, a sad look in her eyes. “It’s bittersweet, isn’t it?”

  I nod, my eyes misting over with unshed tears. “It’s not fair. How are irresponsible people given the chance to become parents, when there’s women and men out there that are so desperate, but can’t?” My gaze travels over his tiny features. “Look at him. How is it possible that someone could be so reckless?”

  “Generally, the addicts don’t bond with the baby or click that it is a real life they’re growing inside of them. Their addiction is too far gone to realize the damage that they’re doing,” a nurse interjects.

  “Damage?” I ask, my face screwing up.

  She nods, a sad expression on her face. “Apart from having to wean them off the substance they’re addicted to and dealing with the shakes, tremors, and need to have the particular substance, most are born prematurely or with defects, and they’re the problems that we can initially find out. The lasting effects will come later in life, if they survive.”

  The information she’s reeled off makes me feel like she’s torn my heart out, and I feel the tears spring ever closer to the surface, threatening to fall. “If they survive?”

  “The first few weeks are vital, but they’re the ones that aren’t allowed out with special people like you, they need constant care. These little guys…” She points around her to all the incubators “Aren’t out of the danger zone yet, but they’re getting there.”

  A sudden need to protect the baby in my arms washes over me and I pull him into my body, trying to make him feel safe.

  “Try not to get too attached. I know that it’s hard, but it helps hand them back at the end of the day.” The nurse must’ve noticed my body language.

  I smile at her as I sit in the armchair beside the one Mom is sitting in. “I don’t know how you haven’t got a house full of babies by now. I want to take them all home.”

  She chuckles. “It gets easier, I felt the same when I first sta
rted out.”

  I hesitate before asking, “Do you think I should make this a regular thing?”

  “It’s helped patch up my broken heart since your father passed, so I know this will heal your soul, Harmony. What you do at that studio is amazing, but this, this will help dull the pain you hold in your heart. I promise.”

  I nod at her and lean back, laying the five pound, six ounce baby across my chest, my arms wrapped around him, determined to stop anything from ever hurting him again.

  My office door pushes open, banging off the wall and echoing around the room. I whip my head up at the intrusion, a frown marring my face when I see who it is.

  “Nate,” I growl, not wanting him in my office. I haven’t seen him since Izzie’s dance recital.

  “Tris.” He walks inside, heading for the whiskey that sits in the crystal decanter on the table next to the leather sofa. “It feels like it’s been forever.”

  “It’s been a couple of weeks,” I answer him, gritting my teeth and watching him through narrowed eyes.

  Nate and I have been friends since we started college, in fact, he was the first one to spot Harmony all of those years ago before she dropped paint all over me. There was only three of us back then: Nate, Natalia, and me. That is until Harmony joined our group.

  He’s changed a lot since the college days: his once long and wild brown hair is now cut short at the sides and a little longer on the top, not a strand out of place, and his suit is tailored to perfection compared to the skinny jeans he used to wear.

  He was once the guy on campus who was into anything and everything, wanting to take things to the extreme: rock climbing, surfing; but not like your average person. He always wanted to climb the steepest rock faces and ride the biggest waves. Now he’s a shark in the courtroom and on permanent retainer for both me personally and the company. Although I’m thinking of changing that; the less I have to do with him now, the better.

  I watch as he pours us both a glass of the amber liquid before heading over to the sofas and holding one out to me.