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As fast as the nurses set up to welcome Shelby to the world, the flurry of activity subsides. Cary eases into a rocker, returning Shelby’s affection like she hung the moon. He scoots them closer. I watch them as I doze.
A light melody fills the air.
“Is that—theArthurtheme song?” I ask Cary, reaching to lace our fingers together.
“It’s a good song,” he says. “Seeing as the best thing I’ve ever done was fall in love with you.”
* * * *
Thank you for reading Home Wrecker!I hope you swooned over Holly and Cary’s age gap romance as much as I loved writing it. If you can’t get enough of Shattered Hearts of Carolina, discover what happens down the road for Holly and Cary! Claim your bonus chapter here: www.jodykaye.com/bonus-homewrecker
Turn the page for an excerpt fromDeep Gap, a deeply emotional lonely hearts workplace romance!
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Deep Gap
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©2022 Jody Kaye, All Rights Reserved
“Let me drive you,” Karen offers.
I pause, shrugging on the thin coat I bought at the donation center before the winter weather set in. The collar has gotten stuck underneath the back of the jacket and my shirt sleeves have ridden up to my elbows. I should either take it off and try again or find a mirror to un-bunch everything.
“Please, Greer. It’s cold out.” I hear my mom’s voice in Karen’s reminder and see her concern that I’m not protected from the elements.
Turning from the soulful expression that I’m still unable to handle, I decide I’ll be going back to the thrift shop for a thicker coat before Karen runs to the mall to buy one for me. I’ve taken too much from her.
You took everything from her.
“I walked here. It’s no big deal. I walk everywhere.” I stop fiddling and pull up my shirt, exposing the mismatched tank top I’m wearing underneath. Another donation center find I’d worn all summer when it was sweltering in Brighton. “See layers!”
For Karen’s sake, I keep it cheerful and walk toward the front door without meeting the worrisome crinkles at the corner of her eyes. She was kind enough to feed me a huge breakfast before I go to work. I refuse to take advantage of her hospitality. The whole reason I agreed to come over was that I’d spent Thanksgiving with my mom and dad when Karen had wanted all three of us here. I hate disappointing her.
When I glance into the mirror there, my own face betrays the act I’m putting on for Karen’s benefit. I don’t recognize the detached woman who is staring back at me with her stringy blonde hair secured in a thick ponytail at the base of her neck. My outsides and my insides don’t match.
Or maybe what’s left on the inside is reflected on the outside. I couldn’t smile if you asked me to. With the exception of everything Karen’s husband, Mac, does for me, I haven’t had many reasons to smile in years.
I flop my long hair out over my coat. The end smacks between my shoulder blades. As I’m buttoning up, it happens. Like a moth to a flame, my gaze finds the eight-by-ten Karen keeps on the mantle.
Senior year. God-awful mottled blue background that I guess is supposed to resemble the wide sky and all the possibilities in the world. Tan sport coat, white button-down, and red-bordering-on-burgundy tie because that’s the kind of momma’s boy Ellis was that he allowed Karen to choose his outfit on portrait day. Although Ellis practiced for days trying to master tying it himself. He was so proud of himself. Heck, I was proud of him.
I feel the elation of his laugh from over a decade ago, when Ellis showed me how to do it, ring hollow inside my empty chest. My windpipe collapses and the parts of my heart that had begun healing since the last time this happened once again show the telltale marks of how threadbare my life is since Ellis died.
I miss his smile. His gleaming white teeth. How he towered over me from the moment our mothers introduced us. We had so much in common. There was never once I hadn’t trusted Ellis. Whether that was showing me the secret of how to ease forked vegetables underneath the dinner table and feed them to one of his family’s many animals, or slipping me the correct formula for a problem during a math test. Ellis was a constant. At seventeen, I couldn’t envision my life without him. At eighteen his life was over.
So was mine.
Karen’s hands rub my shoulders, breaking my trance. “He loved you.Welove you.”
“Thank you.” I hug Karen, repeating the same response I’ve given to her and her husband whenever they’ve reminded me over the past few years.
What else do you say to the parents of the boy you killed?
“I love you, too”seems superficial. But“Thank you for forgiving me for the unforgivable”I can get behind.
Aside from Karen and Mac and my parents, I think I’ve lost the ability to love anyone. Some days I doubt I ever knew how to begin with.
