Page 40 of Hearts on the Mend

I flash him a tight smile as thanks. He only swallows and returns his attention to his food.

When we’re finished, I help clear the plates as Ruby runs off to play UNO with Bridget and June. Richie is listening to the Boston Breakers’ game on the radio while scrubbing dishes. Kathleen elbows me gently, bringing my attention back toward Nolan at the table.

“He’s sad and shut off, and we’re all concerned about him. But having the house to fix up is a good distraction. I think you see him because you’re hurting too, Cassie.”

I shrug, taken aback at how quickly she caught a glimpse of me. The real me, I mean. I’m broken in the corners of daylight, trying to piece a life back together after I blew it up. Right now, it’s overwhelming how not-according-to-plan it’s all going.

“Ruby is a lovely girl, and we’re happy to help, hon. It must be so incredibly hard to move across the country, get strapped with fixing up that old house as a single mom, and deal with my pain-in-the-ass son.”

“He’s not so bad.” My voice trails off, the ache back in my chest at the sight of him, alone at his family’s dining table. “He’s… complicated.”

“Oh, he’s cranky and selfish, hell-bent on killing himself. Ever since he could crawl, I swear he was trying to launch himself off of something.”

“He likes a challenge.”

“Nolan is an island of his own making. Decided early he couldn’t be loved, so he just shut us all out and left.” She wipes quickly at her eyes. “We adore him, just as much as Ethan, Jack, and Annie. But they always say children don’t have the same parents. When Nolan was young, his father and I were pushing hard to grow the restaurant. We were always working. Don’t think he ever forgave us, especially when Ethan came around. They’re more the same than different, but they never got along. Now Annie?” She laughs to herself. “He was eleven when she was born. The minute his father put her in his arms, he was lost. He loves his baby sister and will protect her, no matter the cost.”

“Can’t be easy what he does.”

“Sure,” she says. “He doesn’t make it easy on himself either. Blames himself for a lot that’s happened.”

I want to ask, I do. But that’s for Nolan to tell me when he’s ready, if he’s ever ready. He owes me nothing outside of helping with the house. No matter what feelings I’m trying to untangle that I have toward him right now.

“It’s cold out, but the beach is the best place to think,” she says, as if she can read my mind. “Why don’t you sneak out onto the back deck and get some fresh air? Clear your head. We’ll see how Ruby does.”

There’s a pathway that cuts through the dunes, stretching out to a long, flat beach that follows the rocky coastline. The dark gray day fades into the horizon, a smudge of where sky meets the Atlantic while the waves crash into the shore, dark, almost black.

I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that the sea air doesn’t feel good. I hate that it does.

I tilt my chin up toward the ocean spray hitting my face, and I think what if?

I can’t remember the last time I did something because I wanted to. Not because it needed doing, not because someone needed me to, not because if I didn’t, no one would.

I creep farther down the beach. Strip off my coat, my sweater, tug off my jeans and my boots. It’s fucking freezing. I wrap my arms around myself and square my body to the giant waves, then dig my toes into the sand. It’s like ice biting me.

“What the fuck are you doing, Cassie?” Nolan’s voice booms behind me.

“Going for a swim!” I shout.

“It’s January. Are you crazy?”

“Probably, but all the best people are.”

He races toward me, but I’m faster. I rush into the water, and it’s like falling through Elsa’s frozen palace. It’s shockingly cold, enough to make my brain quiet for a glorious minute. Waves swell, colliding into me, swallowing me. I sputter, disoriented for a minute as I search for the beach and dry my eyes.

Nolan cuts through the surf in powerful strokes, wraps an arm around my waist, and drags me out of the water as I thrash against his waist.

“You’re fucking insane,” he shouts. “Gonna kill yourself.”

And it’s not that. That’s not why I went to the ocean.

I just…

I needed to feel alive. Needed to feel like a decision was mine to make. Even a bad one.

He tosses me into the sand and throws my coat at my face. “What were you thinking?”

I wrap it around my shoulders, step into my boots, and clutch my clothes to my chest. My teeth are chattering, and between my pulse drumming in my ears and the crashing surf, the world blurs around me as I drink him in. The sight of his man towering over me, the curl to his lips. I’m pretty sure he hates me right now, which makes it even more confusing when I toss away my clothes and grab his face, pulling his mouth down to mine.