27 Ways to Mend His Broken Heart

by Tapscott, Shari L.

  Alisha and her husband were lost before the paramedics arrived. Megan, who was asleep in the backseat at the time of the collision, is in critical condition. She’s been slipping in and out of consciousness, and she has not yet been informed that her parents passed in the accident. June begged them to wait until she arrived.

  June’s sorrow is tangible. I’ve never lost anyone in my life, never witnessed or felt this sort of pain. There are no words.

  I stayed with June all night, cried with her, listened to her rage, thanked the Lord that Megan survived, and mourned for the loss of the girl’s parents. It didn’t feel like it was enough to simply be there with June, but it’s all I could do. Kyle, on the other hand, booked June’s flight to California. He arranged for transportation from the airport to the hospital. He took care of everything he could. Meanwhile, June was on the phone half the night with various doctors and officers, looking more haggard and heartbroken with each call.

  We’re halfway to Phoenix when June looks at me from the passenger seat of Kyle’s Jeep. I’m in the back.

  “The conference,” she says wearily, as if she just remembered she’s supposed to be on a flight to Denver in a few hours.

  “What about it?”

  “You have to go—you have to give my speech for me.”

  I blink at her, startled. I hadn’t forgotten about the conference, but it was the last thing on my mind with everything else.

  “I’m sure they’ll understand that you can’t make it.”

  She shakes her head vehemently, looking as though she can’t take even one more thing. “No, you have to go. They’re expecting me.”

  I meet Kyle’s eyes in the rearview mirror. What about the trip he booked? It’s our chance to check off the last few items on the list we started all those months ago. I’m not sure why, but I know it’s important to Kyle.

  He nods, silently telling me he understands. Some things are just more important.

  But I’ve never flown anywhere, and certainly never by myself. Anxiety bubbles in my empty stomach, making me a little nauseous. On top of that, the thought of speaking in front of all those people…I don’t know if I can do it.

  “Okay,” I say despite my fears. “What do I do?”

  June sighs, sounding thankful. “I’ll call the airport and hotel and see what we can do.”

  It’s not as simple a process as I hoped, but thirty minutes later, we’re nearing the outskirts of Phoenix, and June has made my travel arrangements. There was a point when her voice broke when she explained exactly why she couldn’t keep her ticket. Things moved quickly after that.

  Kyle parks, and we walk with June to security.

  “Thank you for everything, Kaylee,” she murmurs, holding me so tight it hurts. When she sets me free, she quickly wipes her face and clears her throat. “You too, Kyle. I’m so grateful.”

  She then joins the line for security, her head held high even though I know she’s dying on the inside. As soon as she’s out of sight, I turn to Kyle and hug him around the waist. He wraps me in his arms and holds me close.

  “I can’t even imagine…” I say.

  “I know.” He kisses the top of my head, his voice gruff with emotion.

  Once I’m composed, I step out of his arms and dab my eyes with the tips of my fingers. “I’m so sorry about your trip.”

  “That is the last thing you need to worry about right now.”

  I swallow and nod, telling myself I can be brave. “I don’t even have any clothes with me.”

  Thankfully, June had been practicing her presentation nonstop, and she had a copy of it in her purse. She gave it to me in the car. At least it’s one thing I don’t have to worry about.

  But what will I wear when I read it for her tomorrow? I don’t want to embarrass her; I don’t want to look sloppy and unprepared.

  Kyle takes my hand and squeezes it. “If we hurry, we have time to drive back, quickly pack, and return here before you need to check in for your flight.”

  “That’s a lot of driving, Kyle.”

  “I know—I don’t care.”

  I let him lead me out of the airport and into the parking area. When we’re just about to his Jeep, I blurt out what’s been on my mind since I found out I was going to Denver in June’s place, “Will you come with me?”

  Kyle stops and turns to me. “You want me to go to Denver?”

  “I know it’s a lot to ask, and a floral conference is the last place you’d ever want to visit,” I say in a rush, not stopping to breathe. “But you’ve already taken the time off work, and I—”

  “I’ll go.”

  “Really?” My shoulders soften with relief.

  He nods. “I just want to spend time with you, Kaylee. In the woods, in an airport, surrounded by flowers—it doesn’t matter. I will always be there when you need me.”

  Overcome after such a nightmarish night, I jerk my head in a tight nod, trying not to cry again.

  He gives my hand a tug toward the Jeep. “But we’ve got to hurry.”

  * * *

  I’ve never packed so quickly in my life. Thankfully, I was half prepared. I keep the sweaters and toiletries and toss out the thermals, hiking boots, wool socks, and ski jacket. I’m not even sure what I add—a dress or two and several pairs of heels that may or may not match. Then I basically dump the contents of my jewelry box on top and zip the whole thing up.

  “Ready,” I call to Kyle, extending the handle on the wheeled suitcase so I can drag it into the front.

  He leaps off the couch when he sees me, already crossing the room to relieve me of my luggage.

  “Do you need anything?” I ask him.

  “I’ll make do with what I—”

  The doorbell rings, cutting him off.

  “That’s weird. Savannah must have forgotten her keys,” I say, already pulling the door open.

  But it’s not Savannah on the step. It’s Ava.

  “What happened to you?” I breathe, my eyes falling on the long cut on her cheek and the bruise forming around her right eye.

  She looks away as if ashamed, and her face crumples like she’s about to cry. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

  Kyle comes up behind me and swears. “Who did that to you?”

  She shakes her head. “It wasn’t…I mean, Chad’s never done it before.”

  “He’ll never do it again,” I snarl, grasping her arm and tugging her into the house.

  She angles away as if she doesn’t want us to see the damage. Then she murmurs to me, “I was hoping you’d be alone.”

  She’s embarrassed—she didn’t want Kyle to know.

  “He’s still at my house,” Ava explains to me, avoiding Kyle like her life depends on it. “I needed to get out, and I don’t have anyone…”

  Her family moved back to northern California a few years ago, and she’s never made time for friends. But was I really the first person she thought to run to?

  “I didn’t think you’d want to see me,” she goes on. “You haven’t called, and I was scared to contact you after everything, but you were one of my best friends.”

  I think about that, feeling weird. I was a pretty crappy friend, and if I was her best, that’s just sad.

  Her watery blue eyes meet mine, and she whispers. “What do I do?”

  I turn to Kyle, feeling helpless. We have to go now. We don’t have time for this, but we can’t just leave Ava. She needs to report this to the police; she needs to see a doctor.

  “Kaylee,” Kyle says, his eyes boring into mine. “If you don’t go now, you’ll miss your flight.”

  You…not we. I have to go alone.

  Feeling as if I swallowed cold lead, I force myself to nod.

  Kyle is going to stay here with Ava. He’s going to take care of her because she needs him.

  He reaches for my shoulders and leans down so he’s looking me right in the eyes. “We can’t leave her like this.”

  I nod numbly.

  His fingers ti
ghten. “It’s going to be all right—you’re going to be all right.”

  All I can think is that he’s choosing her. I know that’s not exactly true, but heartache isn’t always rational. My breathing becomes shallow, and my fingers tremble.

  “Stay here,” he says to Ava, and then he pulls me out the door, tugging my suitcase behind him. When we reach my car, he tosses my luggage in the trunk and opens my door. “Drive careful. Call me as soon as you get there.”

  “Okay,” I force myself to say.

  Before Kyle lets me leave, he slides his hand into my hair, his fingers warm against my chilled skin, and kisses me hard. When he backs up, his eyes lock on mine, and he promises, “Kaylee, we’re fine.”

  “That’s my line,” I say weakly.

  A ghost of a smile crosses his face.

  I slide into the driver’s seat, jumping slightly when Kyle closes the door.

  Are we fine?

  Are we really?

  30

  I swear under my breath when I walk into Kaylee’s house and find Ava standing in the entry, staring at the wall. She’s hiding the right side of her face, terrified I might see it.

  “You’re dating Kaylee,” she says.

  “Yeah.”

  She swallows, looking like she’s going to cry. “How bad a mess did I just make for you right now?”

  “Pretty bad.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispers, and then she tries to turn for the door. “I can go.”

  I grab her arm, pulling her back, but not in the same way I touch Kaylee.

  “Go where, Ava?” I demand.

  She yanks her arm free. “I don’t know. You think if I had anywhere else to be, I would have come here? I know Kaylee hates me.”

  “She doesn’t hate you,” I say, finally getting a good look at my ex-girlfriend’s face. My temper rages, hot and unthinking. More than anything, I want to drive across town and confront the lowlife who would do this. But right now, I need to find Ava help.

  And then I need to get to Kaylee.

  “She never thought I was good enough for you,” Ava says, avoiding the conversation we actually need to have.

  Ignoring her, I grab my keys and lead her out the front. “Come on.”

  “Where are we going?” she asks.

  “I know someone who can help.”

  I’m already scrolling my contact book for his number. Thankfully, he answers on the first ring.

  “Are you home?” I immediately ask. “I need a favor.”

  * * *

  The look on Heath’s face when he answers the door would make a lesser man cower. He takes in Ava’s bruised and bloody face, and his jaw tightens. She’s in desperate need of stitches, and even then, the inch-and-a-half long cut will probably scar.

  “What happened?” he demands, opening the door for us.

  “I fell against the coffee table,” Ava says, looking down.

  “Ava,” I growl.

  She turns away, staring at the black iron house numbers near the front light. “Chad had too much to drink. He got mad, knocked me down, and then I fell against the coffee table.”

  I force down my anger. Heath’s got this.

  “Go inside,” Heath says gently, and then he turns to me once she’s gone.

  “I have to leave her with you,” I tell him immediately, cutting him off before he can say anything. “Kaylee’s on her way to Denver, and if I don’t leave now, I’m going to miss the flight.”

  “Why is Kaylee going to Denver?” he demands.

  “She has to give June’s presentation at the conference. I have to be there—she’s scared to death to go alone. She needs me.”

  He looks like he has a dozen questions, but he ends up waving me off.

  “Hey, Kyle,” he hollers just before I’m to my Jeep. I look back as I open the door, and he says, “Thank you for taking care of my sister.”

  “I love her,” I tell him, meeting his eyes.

  He studies me for a moment, and then he lets out a short laugh, looking pleased. “Get out of here then.”

  Ten minutes later, I’m on the interstate, breaking all kinds of traffic laws, including going ten to twenty miles over the speed limit, failing to use a blinker, and passing on the right side…multiple times.

  All I can think about is getting to Kaylee before our flight takes off.

  I meant what I said—I love her. Now I just have to prove it to her.

  31

  Over and over, I tell myself I’m a grown woman, and I can handle this alone. June was going to do it, after all.

  I manage to find the correct gate, and I’m now waiting for them to tell us we can board the plane. Every two seconds, I look over my shoulder, desperately hoping Kyle will miraculously show up. We bought his ticket after leaving the airport, while we were on our way home, so there’s a seat waiting for him.

  But I know better. There’s no way he’s going to make the flight. He would have needed to leave right after me, and he couldn’t have figured out what to do with Ava that quickly.

  I’m not upset with him. I know he had to stay. She needed help, and I had no choice but to leave. That doesn’t make it hurt any less.

  Families, businessmen, and couples sit around me, everyone looking eager to board. A mother bounces a brightly colored toy in front of the baby on her lap, trying to keep him occupied. He smacks it away, and his lower lip trembles like he’s going to start crying. The poor woman looks frazzled, and we haven’t even boarded the plane.

  I check my phone, hoping for an update from Kyle, but it’s silent. There’s no message, no missed call.

  I almost call him myself a dozen times, but in the end, I stash my phone in my purse.

  “Now boarding Flight 302, Phoenix to Denver,” a woman announces over a speaker, and then she gives specific boarding instructions.

  If we were in a romance movie, I know exactly how this would play out. I’d wait, breathless with anxiety, and then give up when all hope seemed lost. At the very last possible minute, Kyle would cry out from down the hall, making it in the nick of time. I’d cry. He’d kiss me and declare his undying love. Then we’d board the plane, and the credits would roll.

  Apparently, my life isn’t a romance movie.

  “Miss?” the attendant waiting at the gate says. “Are you coming?”

  I turn back to her, my heart aching. “Yeah.”

  She checks my ticket, gives me a smile, and waves me on.

  32

  I’m too late.

  Even though I jog all the way from security, I reach the gate just as the plane is taking off. I slow to a walk and then finally stop, breathing hard.

  I would have been on time if I hadn’t hit construction. They stopped traffic completely, and I was stuck for twenty minutes.

  With a resigned sigh, I walk back to the ticket counter and hope they’ll take pity on me.

  “Hi there,” a pretty blonde-haired woman says when it’s my turn. “How can I help you?”

  “I got caught in construction and missed my flight,” I tell her. “I need to book the next available one.”

  She takes my information, and her fingers fly across the keyboard as she looks into my options.

  “You look like you had a rough morning,” she says, her eyes on the screen.

  I’m not sure what gave it away—the slump of my shoulders, the dark circles under my eyes from barely sleeping last night, or the hopeless depression that’s written across my face. Because I can’t work up the energy to answer, I nod.

  She finally looks away from her computer. “The next available flight leaves at twelve-forty-five AM. Will that be all right?”

  I’d like it to be sooner, but what choice do I have?

  “It’s fine,” I tell her, pulling out my wallet.

  She flashes me a small smile and leans forward. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve taken care of it.”

  I stare at her, wondering if I heard her right.

  She hands me a packet with my
new info and ticket. “I hope the rest of your day goes a little better.”

  I thank her, grateful for the small act of kindness, and head to the parking area, hoping to catch a few hours of sleep in the back of my Jeep.

  33

  The flight was fine. In fact, it was better than I expected. The worst part was the takeoff, and not because we were leaving the ground. It was because I knew at that moment, there was no possible way Kyle could show up.

  I collect my luggage and follow the signs through the airport, getting lost only once. Finding a taxi proves easier than I expect, and soon I’m heading for June’s hotel—the same one that’s hosting the conference. Online, it looks larger than anywhere I’ve ever stayed, and it’s quite a bit fancier as well.

  After thanking my cab driver, I walk up the grand entry, pulling my suitcase behind me. The March air is cold here, and there’s a bite of snow in the air. The white-capped Rockies loom to the west, looking grand and almost purple in the fading evening light.

  Apprehension blankets me, making me feel small and alone.

  I check into my room and ride the elevator to the tenth floor. The doors open when I reach the level, and I step out, jerking my bag over the metal strip between the elevator and floor. The suitcase rolls along behind me as I walk down the hall, the wheels creating a funny noise that makes me think I should have spent a little more money when purchasing luggage.

  The hall smells faintly of cleaning products. It’s a pleasant, fresh scent, not like walking into a hospital that reeks of bleach. The floor is carpeted in beige, and the walls are white. Everything is very neutral, very classy.

  I locate Room 1015, my home for the next several days, and step inside. The curtains are open to the night, and Denver’s downtown district glows. I leave my suitcase by the door and take a closer look, staring out into the distance.