Etching Our Way (Broken Tracks Series Book 1)

by Abigail Davies

  My heart seizes at the thought and I sit up, rubbing at my chest.

  “You okay, hon?” Mom asks.

  I shake my head and stand up, needing some space. “Not really, but I will be. I’m going to go and change out of this dress.” I scratch my neck. “It’s starting to irritate me.”

  Her worried expression has me shooting her a reassuring smile before walking out of the room and up the stairs to get changed.

  Once dressed in my comfiest pajama shorts set, I stand in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at the reflection of the tired woman looking back at me. My mascara has gathered underneath my bloodshot eyes, making me look like a panda, so I grab a washcloth and my face cleanser, gently taking off my makeup and sighing at my stupidity.

  Bracing myself against the bathroom counter, I inwardly berate myself. I couldn’t have bought her a freaking princess dress or painted her a unicorn, could I? I had to go and paint a picture of her and her late mom and present it to her at her birthday party. What was I thinking?

  I shake my head as I remember everyone’s reactions; except now that I think about it, the only one with a bad reaction was Tristan. Sure, everyone was shocked, but Izzie and Clayton seemed to love it.

  What if Tristan can’t get over this? He said he’d call me and he hasn’t, but I guess it’s too soon.

  I walk down the stairs, dragging my feet into the living room and freeze at the loud knock coming from the front door.

  Mom jumps to her feet but I put my hand out, telling her silently that I’ll get it. I look through the peephole and my heart leaps in my chest.

  Tristan is standing out on the small porch, rain dripping from his hair that is plastered to his head. He’s soaked to the bone from the torrential downpour that started earlier this evening and hasn’t let up since.

  I open the door immediately and his head snaps up, looking at me through sad eyes.

  “Harmony.” His voice cracks as he stares at me, uncertainty in his eyes. “Can we…” He blows out a breath and pushes his hand through his soaking wet hair. “Can we talk?”

  “Of course, come in.” I push open the door a little farther so he can step inside and I motion toward the kitchen.

  He follows me in and sits down at the dining table as I hear footsteps walking up the stairs: Mom giving us some privacy.

  “I’ll be right back.” He nods in reply and I run upstairs and grab a towel off the rail, running it back downstairs before handing it to him.

  “Thanks,” he says, his voice unsure as he rubs the towel over his hair and face.

  “You’re welcome. Can I get you—”

  “Harmony, I’m—”

  We both chuckle and he motions for me to go first. “Oh, I wasn’t going to say anything important. I was only going to ask if you wanted a cup of coffee or something. You go,” I say, waving my hand at him.

  “I’m good.” He clears his throat and looks around before bringing his gaze back to mine. “I… I’m sorry about how I reacted. It was uncalled for, I just…” He blows out a breath. “I didn’t expect it.”

  I look down at my hands, inspecting my nails that badly need a manicure. “You don’t need to explain yourself, it was a shock, but… it was my fault. I should’ve talked to you about it. I blindsided you.” I look up at him again. “I’m the one that’s sorry. I thought that… I wanted to give her something that meant more than your standard unicorn or princess.”

  “I know... I can see that now.” He drops his gaze to the floor, his hands clenching into fists at his sides before looking back up at me. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. Fuck! I hate that I did.”

  He stands up out of the chair he’s sitting in and the towel falls off his lap and onto the floor as he walks toward me. I back up against the kitchen counter behind me, the feel of the wood against my fingertips grounding me.

  He stops barely inches away from me and I look up into his face, trying my best to read what he’s showing me with his eyes.

  “You’re giving me whiplash with all of these different emotions. I don’t blame you, but it’s confusing,” I tell him honestly.

  “I know,” he whispers, bringing his hand up and cupping the side of my face. I break out in goose bumps as the pads of his fingertips graze the soft skin of my cheek. “Sometimes I don’t know if I’m coming or going. But this…” He points between us with his other hand. “This is something that I’ll never second guess.”

  “So… you’re not mad at me anymore?”

  His lips lift up into a small smile as his gaze flits between my eyes. “No.” He sighs softly, stepping impossibly closer. “Next time, maybe we should talk beforehand though?”

  I’m distracted by how he keeps looking down at my lips, but I manage to tear my gaze away and nod. “Absolutely. I really am—”

  His lips crush against mine in a bruising kiss that takes my breath away and has me melting into his embrace as I kiss him back with as much passion as he is.

  One of his hands tangles up in the back of my hair and the other wraps around my waist, pulling me flush against him. It seems like hours before he finally pulls away and I smile sheepishly, blushing.

  “Can we call it a lesson learned and move on?” he asks, his eyes begging me for forgiveness.

  “I’d like that,” I say on a breath.

  His hand smooths down my hair and he chuckles. “So… what are you doing tomorrow?”

  “Something I do every Sunday.”

  “You do something every Sunday?” I nod. “Hmm, I never knew that.” He arches a brow in silent question.

  “Yeah. I do have a life other than the studio, you know.” I roll my eyes and debate whether I should ask him or not, but in the end, I decide to go for it. “Can you get Amelia or your mom to watch the kids? I want to take you somewhere.” If it helps heal my broken heart, maybe it can do the same for him?

  “I…” He bites his bottom lip and looks behind me before bringing his gaze back to mine. “Sure.”

  I grin, knowing something he doesn’t and he shoots me a questioning look. “Don’t look so untrusting.”

  “Well, are you going to tell me where we’re going?” His hands graze my waist as he holds me against him.

  My arms snake up his chest and I entwine my hands behind his neck. “You always were impatient.”

  He chuckles before bringing his lips down onto mine, softly kissing me before smirking and saying, “And you should know what happens when you make me wait.”

  I walk one of my hands down his chest as the memory of his impatient sulks makes me giggle. “You’ll get over it.”

  “Oh, I will, will I?” He gives me a mischievous smile, his eyes shining with laughter before he moves his hand, tickling my side and having me buckle over as my body is overtaken with silent giggles. “Tell me!”

  I manage to wiggle out of his hold before crying out, “Never!” as I run out of the kitchen, heading in the direction of the living room.

  He catches me before I make it there and pins me up against the wall in the hallway; his chest heaving to the same rhythm as my own.

  “I’ve got you now, you can’t get away.” He chuckles and pushes farther into me, the atmosphere changing at the proximity of our bodies. He stares at me, the intensity in his gray eyes is something that I’ve not seen in a very long time.

  “Is that so?” I ask.

  A serious expression crosses his features before his lips are on mine again, but this time it seems more intense.

  A low groan releases from the back of his throat as I fist the wet leather of his jacket in my hands, the material creaking as I pull him closer. I let his tongue brush against mine and moan into his mouth.

  His hand wraps around my waist and I’m lifted into the air, my legs locking around his hips automatically to steady me. He pushes against me, pressing into my core, causing another round of moans before his hand is snaking its way under my teal pajama top. I shiver as his fingers graze across the soft skin of my stoma
ch, letting my head fall back.

  “Harm,” he murmurs, tracing his nose along the underside of my jaw before pressing his lips softly against the sensitive skin below my ear.

  I push my hips toward his, needing the friction as I pull on his hair, bringing his face back up to mine and crashing my lips onto his.

  One of his hands cups my thigh as the other continues to wander under my tank before all of a sudden, he’s pulling away and dropping me back down onto the floor gently.

  He clears his throat. “Sorry, I got a little carried away. I… I should probably go.”

  I blush at the thought that that could’ve gone further than either of us are ready for. We continue to stare at each other for several seconds before I nod and say, “Okay. Be ready by nine tomorrow morning, I’ll drive.”

  He groans and lets his head drop back. “Not in that rust bucket you call a car.”

  “Hey! I’ve had that car for almost eight years now, she runs like a champ.”

  “Dear God, you’re gonna get us killed!”

  “She’s never failed me before, so stop your bitching and get gone. A girl needs her beauty sleep.”

  He throws his head back in laughter, holding his hands up in the air. “Okay, okay, I’m going.” He takes a few backward steps, a smile still on his face. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I feel like a teenager and I can’t resist one last kiss, taking the steps that separate us and brushing my lips against his. “Tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow,” he murmurs, watching me for several seconds before grinning, shaking his head, and spinning around, walking out of the door.

  “You’re going the wrong way,” Mom states sarcastically. “You shout at me for making us late and now you’re driving the wrong way, making us even later.”

  “Mom, please let me drive.” I wait a beat before mumbling, “I’m picking up Tristan.”

  I see her straighten in her seat out of the corner of my eye. “You’re what? You invited him?” I nod but don’t verbalize my reply. “How romantic: a date at the hospital.”

  She rolls her eyes and I narrow mine. “What’s with you? You like Tristan, don’t you?”

  She sighs. “Hon, you know I do. I just… You’re spending an awful lot of time together lately and this is supposed to be your healing time. Are you ready for this?”

  “He met Gerry when he turned up at the studio, and we’ve only briefly talked about us because I never wanted to ruin the mood, but I think that it’s time that we talked properly. If he’s going to be in my life again, he needs to know everything about me: warts and all.”

  She nods in understanding of what I’m trying to say and faces forward, gasping as we pull up to his beautiful house. “He lives here?” Again, I nod. “That’s an awful big house for one man and two little people. Must be lonely.”

  “It was Natalia’s dream house,” I say flatly, honking the horn.

  “Mmhmm,” she replies, climbing out of the car and getting into the back.

  “You didn’t have to do that.” She waves me off and I roll my eyes, honking the horn again.

  Izzie appears in the doorway and Tris gives her a kiss. I can’t resist; I get out of the car and run up to them.

  “Harmony!” Izzie shouts and it stops me in my tracks, it’s such a little thing for her to use my first name, but it means everything.

  Tristan looks between us both and I finally snap out of my trance and bend down, hugging her. “Hey, beautiful. I wish I could stay longer but your dad and I have to get going or we’ll be late.”

  She pulls back. “Where are you going?”

  “It’s a secret,” I answer, winking at Tris as he rolls his eyes.

  He crouches down, pulling Izzie into him and kissing her forehead. “Go inside and find Amelia, pumpkin.”

  She pouts at him but smiles at me. “Will you be coming home?”

  “Coming home?” That word causes my heart to lurch.

  “Yeah, here, after you and Daddy are done with the secret. I want to show you where your birthday present is hanged up.”

  “I…”

  “Come on, pumpkin. Off you go.” Tris places his hand on her back, tilting his head toward the door.

  “Bye,” she sings as she skips back inside and slams the heavy door behind her.

  I start to ask what that was about but decide against it. “Come on then, we’re going to be a little late.”

  He takes a step toward the car and stumbles. “Your mom is coming?”

  “Yeah, I brought my mom along. Thought it’d make it interesting.” I roll my eyes as I open the car door and climb in, shutting it on his loud laugh.

  He climbs in the passenger side and swivels around in his seat. “Hi, Tilly. How are you?”

  “Morning, Tristan. Make sure you put your seatbelt on.”

  The ignition stutters to life with a bang and Tris turns back toward me, looking at me with wide eyes before grabbing the handle above the door. “I really think we should take my car.”

  Mom laughs as I steer us down the driveway before he scrambles to strap himself in and I burst out laughing, receiving a warning look from him which doesn’t phase me one bit. I know my car is on her way out, but I’ve had her for so long now that I couldn’t imagine not driving her. I will get a new car eventually, just not today.

  There’s several touch-and-go moments on the way to the hospital where Tris holds on for dear life as I drive around the corners and the car screeches, but nothing is as funny as when we were at a stoplight and the exhaust backfired; he ducked his head and mine, shielding me. He thought someone was shooting at us.

  I find a parking space and he lets out a giant breath that he seems to have been holding the entire time. “Thank God!” He pushes out of the car and looks up at the sky before he crouches down, placing both hands on the asphalt. “I’m safe.”

  “Stop being so dramatic,” I quip, making Mom laugh.

  He lifts his head and seems to realize where we are for the first time, his whole body going rigid.

  “Tris?”

  “Why are we here?” His voice is low, a deep rumble. I take a step toward him, touching his arm gently but his muscles are tense and I don’t think he registers my touch.

  “I’ll show you if you’ll come with me.” I thread my fingers through his and he seems to relax slightly at the contact.

  We walk up to the neonatal unit in silence but I feel his hand tighten around mine as he looks around on high alert. Mom pushes the buzzer to be let into the unit and we all sterilize our hands with the sanitizer that is attached to the wall.

  “Hey, Tilly, hey, Harmony. Oh, and who is this fine specimen you’ve brought with you today?” Belinda—one of the regular nurses—asks.

  Tris clears his throat and shakes her hand as we giggle. “Tristan Carter.”

  “Well, Tristan Carter, you can come back anytime you want to.”

  He laughs and it seems to ease the tension in his shoulders as he faces me again. “So, what are we doing here, Harm?” His gaze flits around the room briefly before settling back on me.

  “I’ll meet you back here in a few hours,” Mom says and walks off in the direction of the room that the babies are kept in.

  “I didn’t want to tell you before we got here because I didn’t think that you’d come.” I pause a beat, trying to gauge his reaction. “I’ve been coming for a while now.” I walk toward the room and he follows behind me, cautiously. “It’s been… helping me to come to terms with a few things in my life.” I take two pairs of scrubs off the shelf and hand one to Tristan. “You don’t have to come in with me, but I’d like you to. You can change in that room over there.”

  He turns around to where I’m pointing and looks back at me curiously, tilting his head. “Coming to terms with things?”

  A small sigh escapes my lips at having to tell him; I don’t know how he’s going to react. “How about you put those on and we can talk after? I’ll tell you everything, I promise.”

&
nbsp; He watches me for a beat before sighing and saying, “Okay,” then reaching over for the scrubs and walking into the room to get changed.

  He exits a couple of minutes later with his clothes in his hands, still looking apprehensive.

  “Put them here beside Mom’s things. They’ll be safe.” He places his jeans and t-shirt down on the shelf and I walk toward the room he’s just vacated. “I’ll be out in a sec.”

  “O-okay,” he replies, his voice unsure as he looks around, his gaze flitting everywhere.

  I slip into the blue scrubs and make my way out, placing my clothes in a pile beside his and watching as he leans against the wall, arms folded across his chest.

  He raises a brow. “I know, I know, Mr. Impatient.” I walk over and lean against the wall beside him and looking down at my hands as I prepare to tell him about the pain in my past. “Gerry and I, we were happy at one point, believe it or not.” I look back up at him and his face screws up, but I continue on. “We had no worries really. He had a good job and I loved working at a studio doing similar to what I do now. That was until I started to notice the way I was watching the parents dropping off their kids. I wanted that kind of relationship.”

  “That’s understandable,” he comments, searching my eyes for the real reason that I’m telling him all of this.

  I sigh, trying to dispel the lump forming in my throat before telling him the rest. “I told Gerry how I was feeling and he seemed less than happy about the notion of having kids at first, so I gave up on the idea for a while. That was until he brought it up again. We tried for months but nothing was happening, then one day we finally got the good news that I was almost two months pregnant.” My eyes flutter closed, my nails digging into my palms as I try to keep my emotions under control.

  Whenever I think about that time, it feels like it happened to someone else. It may sound cold, but I’ve detached myself from all of the memories, because I have to. If I let myself feel what I did back then, I’ll never move forward and teaching kids would hurt every time I looked into their eyes, knowing that I’ll never have what their parents have.

  Talking about this with Tris is breaking me, but I need to tell him so that he understands. I open my eyes again before taking a deep breath. “We were so happy, but… two weeks later, I felt sick and had stabbing pains low in my stomach.” I blow out a breath, my voice growing hoarse. “I knew that something wasn’t right but I went about my daily tasks anyway, hoping and praying that the small niggling voice in the back of my mind was wrong. I wanted to stay in my bubble. I remember being rushed to the hospital after I started bleeding and the pain became unbearable, but everything after that is a blur.”