Page 42 of Shattered Hearts

“No, it’s fine, Scott. You’ve made your choice, and I’m going to have to respect that. I wouldn’t want to drag you into this anyway if you’re not going to be happy.”

He’s silently brewing again, and when I think he’s about to hang up on me, he breathes out, “Are you okay with that?”

No. “Yeah.”

“All right.”

Shaking my head, still trying to wrap it around his words, I quickly let out, “Well, expect a photo when it’s born.” I hang up, my sweaty hands dropping my phone.

Vibrating like a leaf, Sadie wraps me in an enormous embrace, squeezing me like a lemon. It’s warm and tight, yet I can’t shake the empty feeling swallowing me. I spent most of my teenage years vying for my parents’ attention. They were constantly wrapped up in each other, that most of the time I felt like a blasted third wheel. Not the greatest feeling when you’re a child…

But I won’t let my child feel that way. I refuse to let them think they’re not loved. I will love it with all my heart and soul.

“Are you all right?” Sadie murmurs against my neck, breaking through my thoughts.

My head shakes slightly as I grip onto her.

How can I be okay after that?

I choke on another sob, wondering how I have any tears left. I don’t think I have ever cried this much in my whole life, and the horrible thing is, the only person I want with me right now to hold me through this mess isn’t here.

Chapter Seventeen

Grayson

“She hasn’t messaged me since the weekend,” I tell Reid as we pick up another timber beam.

Walking over to the house, Reid takes it to the porch and holds it up. I secure it to the fixture, between the porch and decking. Once it’s complete, we stand back and catch our breaths, taking in Holden’s smaller farmhouse on the other side of the ranch.

“She probably just needs some time to figure everything out. It was a big thing to drop,” he points out.

My jaw tightens. Sometimes I hate how matter-of-fact my brother is.

Holden reappears with his drill, a toolbelt secured around his jeans as he tramples to our side, checking out the finished result of the porch. “Looks good.”

I scoff. For Holden, that’s a high praise.

“How’s the cladding coming along?” Reid asks, following Holden to the mountain of material on the ground.

“Getting there. Weatherboards are a pain to construct, but they do look nice,” Holden admits.

“Look at you, becoming a designer,” Cole adds smartly, dropping his hammer on the ground at his boots.

Holden glares in his direction.

“We’ll help with the weatherboards. The faster we get them up, the faster you can start painting and move in,” Reid continues, ignoring Cole’s remark.

Holden nods, and the two of them carry on as I help secure a board in place with Reid. He grunts as he drills in the board, shaking it for stability before huffing. “One done.”

“It’s at least going to look nice once it’s finished,” I say, helping him with the next one.

“Yeah,” he puffs out, wiping sweat from his brow. “It’ll be worth it.”

Nodding, we secure another one in position before starting the process again.

After an hour, we decide to take a break and get some water for the others.

Strolling towards the main house, my hand fidgets with the end of my shirt. Reid must notice because he asks, “Are you worried about Laynie?”