by Shari Ryan
Shattered Stars
Shari J. Ryan
Contents
Acknowledgments
PROLOGUE
1. Current Day
2. Current Day
3. Twelve Years Ago
4. Current Day
5. Twelve Years Ago
6. Current Day
7. Twelve Years Ago
8. Current Day
9. Twelve Years Ago
10. Current Day
11. Twelve Years Ago
12. Current Day
13. Twelve Years Ago
14. Current Day
15. Twelve Years Ago
16. Current Day
17. Twelve Years Ago
18. Current Day
19. Twelve Years Ago
20. Current Day
21. Twelve Years Ago
22. Current Day
23. Twelve Years Ago
24. Current Day
25. Twelve Years Ago
26. Current Day
27. Twelve Years Ago
28. Current Day
EPILOGUE
About the Author
ALSO BY SHARI J. RYAN
If you enjoyed Shattered Stars
Copyright © 2019 by Shari J. Ryan
* * *
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under US Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
* * *
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Edited by: Samantha Schafer, Edit For Content
Listen to the words of every song until one speaks directly to you.
It’s a sign.
Praise for Shari J. Ryan
Holy freaking crap! This book was everything! I won't give anything away but will say this. This book is not like anything Ms. Ryan has written and I can guarantee that it’s going to take you on an emotional journey like no other. Flawlessly written and heartfelt. Be prepared my friends! Fantastic Read!
Stacie Christensen, Early Reader
Wow!!! This books sucked me in with it's one of a kind story line. Shattered Stars alternates in time from the past and present to assist in the telling of the story, which adds another dimension of suspense and intrigue to the complexity of events that unfold in the story.
Shannon, Early Reader
This is one of my absolute favorite books by Shari J. Ryan. When I read Shattered Stars it gave me the feeling that I was reading something special. It is the type of love story that buries itself deep in your heart. Layne is more than just a musician, he has a heart of gold. I absolutely love the chemistry between Danny and Layne. When you think about Aly, Shari J. Ryan describes her perfectly "She is proof that some of the best gifts in life come from the shadows of a nightmare." Danny has gone through so much in her 30 years and you truly feel for her. This beautiful book will give you ALL THE FEELS.
Shattered Stars is about love, family and hope and it will stay with you long after reading the last chapter.
Kelly, Early Reader
Shari J Ryan has really outdone herself with this book. It is unlike any book I have read. This story is about an unbreakable bond between a strong family but is not your typical "good girl meets bad boy" kind of story. You have a husband and wife who are both willing to give up everything for one another. They never let their love waiver no matter what comes their way. It is honest, and raw, and truly heart wrenching. I don't even know how to write a review that will do this book justice, but you NEED to read it! It touches on subjects that most do not, and having been through similar circumstances in my own life, this story really spoke to me. It makes you remember that life is short, and that if you don't give up, you can overcome so much more than you think!
Huge thank you to Shari J Ryan for writing such an amazing piece of work. This is now my all time favorite!
Michelle Blauth, Early Reader
Shari Ryan stands out among her fellow authors with Shattered Stars. This story consumed me mind, heart and soul in a way that I will be forever changed. These characters take you on a heartbreaking journey of hope, fear, determination, faith and love. You will hold your breath and cry, but then you will be filled with so much happiness and joy.
Layne and Aly are such a unique couple who are perfectly imperfect for each other. I fell in love with Layne for many reasons, but most importantly for his unwavering strength, love and loyalty and devotion to Danny and Aly. They give you chills and so much hope in moments of despair, you are rooting for them to find their way back to peace and continuing to chase they dreams. Danielle has been through hell and back and has a maturity and strength that will blow your mind, but also make you so proud of her.
Shari, you shattered my heart in so many ways as you weaved this beautiful story that is full of promise and unconditional love that stands even more than the test of time. A part of my soul has been forever changed because of this breathtaking, passionate story that is one of the best stories of 2019, but probably also my lifetime.
Tracey Vuolo, Early Reader
Acknowledgments
With each book I write, it seems like my team grows a little bigger. I don’t know how I became so lucky to have the love and support I do, but I’m forever grateful for each person who has stuck by my side.
Julie, I would be running with squirrels if it wasn’t for you keeping my head straight and focused every day. Thank you for reading Shattered Stars chapter by chapter and encouraging me to keep pouring my heart and soul into my words.
Linda, sometimes I think we share a brain, and our efforts flow so well together. Other times, I’m completely leaning on you to help me through the process of publishing another book. The line between professional counterparts and close friends blurred a long time ago, and on every account, I wouldn’t be where I am today without you.
Samantha, thank you for your honesty, detailed eye, and ability to smooth out my thoughts. Your talent is appreciated and I love you for ability to immerse yourself into my words, polishing them and make my book shine.
Beta Ladies!!! My group, my friends, I can’t believe you are still standing next to me after all this time. You all go way above and beyond for me, sending me hundreds of screenshots, texting me, messaging me, emailing me, and losing yourselves in my stories the way I have. You are far more than just beta readers, you are super close to my heart and I love each one of you.
Erin, Jocelyn, Heather, Michelle, Michele, Aimee, Emily, Shannon, Tracey, Alissa, Katie, Sue, Cindy, Kelly, and Julie xoxo.
My home-life support never falters throughout this journey, and I’m grateful to have a loving family who is always as excited as I am for a release of a new book.
Bryce and Brayden, I love you boys!
Josh, you have gone above and beyond to show your love for my passion, and the amount of hours you spent creating music for Shattered Stars will stay with me for the rest of my life. You are incredibly talented and I know everyone love the addition to this book. Thank you for being the most incredible husband in the world. Love you!
PROLOGUE
Words drip like warm honey, seeping through the mic's pores. I thought rock music was full of rage and screams, but this is different. This is so much more.
Have you ever felt the unease of dread?
Numbed by reflection and regret
It’s okay to walk away
Even holding on by a thread
* * *
Those lungs are unable to breathe
A fragile body is helplessly snaked with fears
>
Her stuttering heart is broken and drenched
In an ocean of frozen tears
* * *
A fragment in seas of debris
Each of them with pain and scars
They seek to flee the painful reality
Before falling among shattered stars
* * *
Falling among shattered stars
* * *
Trying to salvage her dreams
Fury rages through her
Nightmares tearing the seams
Darkness constantly causing blur
* * *
I’ll show you another way
Feel it in your heart,
There can be less misery
See it as a new start
* * *
A fragment in seas of debris
Each of them with pain and scars
They seek to flee the painful reality
Before falling among shattered stars
* * *
Falling among shattered stars
* * *
Closing her eyes with hope
And reaching for me with desire
We fall into each other
For sake of the brighter
* * *
She gazes with relief
Smiling with eyes adore
I take away all those scars
She’s now much more ...
Than shattered stars
* * *
Falling among shattered stars
* * *
A fragment in seas of debris
Each of them with pain and scars
They seek to flee the painful reality
Before falling among shattered stars
* * *
Falling among shattered stars
My mind is an abyss with millions of thoughts spiraling out of control. Each of his words melts into me, like it’s meant for me, which is impossible because no one knows my story.
Yet.
One
Current Day
Dr. Sheila scribbles words onto a piece of paper, halting our conversation to concentrate. I’m struggling to see what she’s writing, but my train of thought stumbles when a knock raps against the chestnut wooden door.
“Come in,” Dr. Sheila calls out, still holding her gaze on the fresh piece of white paper.
“Your twelve o’clock is here,” a woman speaks from the corridor. I glance down at my watch, noticing the time is ten past twelve. I didn’t think our session had gone so late.
The visible space between the door isn’t wide enough to catch who is speaking, but I suspect it’s the young receptionist from the front desk.
“Thank you. We’re wrapping up now,” Dr. Sheila responds. A hiss embraces the conclusion of her remark, emphasizing an irritation. I wonder if Dr. Sheila doesn’t have a high tolerance for assistants, or if the woman isn’t doing her job well.
“I didn’t realize the time was past twelve,” I offer as an apology even though Dr. Sheila was the one speaking most.
This is only the first time I’ve met Dr. Sheila, so I’m not sure I have her figured out just yet. She seems nice enough, but I have the sense she’s all work and not much play. However, if I hadn’t already spoken to her, I might guess she’s a stick in the mud by the sheen bouncing off her glossy hair, held in with a tight knot on the top of her head. Plus, her frameless glasses, and neutral pallet of a complexion don’t offer her a fun and friendly appearance. I suppose I shouldn’t be one to judge since it’s her job to appear perfect, like nothing in her life would give her cause to be in my seat versus hers. I know it’s a myth, though because even doctors need psychiatric help sometimes.
“It’s all right. We can check in next month around this time, but if you encounter any side-effects or new symptoms before then, please call.”
Dr. Sheila tears the paper from the stack and places it down on the desk in front of me. “Thank you,” I reply, reaching for the prescription.
The brief moments of our exchange feel worthless, like I’m just another patient and this is just her job. I want to tell her how lucky she is to leave behind all these problems at the end of the night. How she can forget about everyone’s troubles. However, despite Dr. Sheila’s cold front, I wonder if she shuts her day out that way. Although, it seems like it at this moment since she can’t seem to make eye contact.
I slip the paper into my bag and show myself out, striding as if in a trance. I don’t know if I understand the irony of someone flushing narcotics through my body without hope of finding a solution. I’m not sure the pause button has the same effect on life as it does when watching a video or listening to a song. The inevitable is still there and part of me wonders if it will be easier once I reach that dark serenity.
The clouds are overbearing today, casting a chill in the late summer warmth. I locate the black Grand Cherokee with the fog lights highlighting the thick air. Mr. H perks up when he spots me walking toward the car and hops out to greet me as if I have a broken leg.
“What did she say?” he asks, hope filling his eyes just as it has every time I meet with a new doctor. I wish he wouldn’t sound so excited to find out what happened. I’ve trained myself to ignore his optimism because I’ve worked hard to adjust my state of mind and to accept what is, knowing there is no good solution.
I reach into my purse and pull out the prescription she gave me. “Here,” I offer with a sigh, handing it to him. “This is the solution given by the ‘infamous’ Dr. Sheila.”
Mr. H glances down at the chicken scratch and shakes his head. “What is so difficult about alternative medicine? I thought that was Dr. Sheila’s specialty? Did you press her for more advice?” I get it. He’s distraught. It’s because he feels hope.
It’s not that I don’t have hope, I’m just a realist. I’d rather not lie to myself.
“There are no other options,” I repeat Dr. Sheila’s words, verbatim.
“Yeah, well, I would have had choice words for her in response,” he says.
“That’s why I asked you to stay in the Jeep,” I explain him with a lifted eyebrow and a slight arch to my lip.
“No more, Dani. I’m coming into these appointments with you. Maybe you’re ready to accept all this, but I’m not. I will fight for you!”
“There’s nothing to fight for,” I argue, heading for the passenger side of the Jeep.
Mr. H snags my arm as I walk past him and he pulls me into his chest, clasping my head against his ribcage. “Do you hear this sound?”
His heart is racing. It’s pounding. “Yes.”
“That’s because of you. It’s always been because of you and I won’t let anything come between us.”
“This is why I’m with you, Mr. H. This is why I fell in love with you.” He has an uncontrollable need to love, and I’ve needed to be the recipient. It has saved me so many times, and I’ve wanted to believe it might be the one thing that always saves me.
“Don’t call me Mr. H right now. It’s not funny anymore.”
“It’s funny to me, so let me have my funny right now.”
What isn’t funny … is that no amount of love in the world can save me from losing my mind.
Two
Current Day
I wouldn’t consider my habits to be a trait of OCD. In fact, I think people throw around the term, “I’m so OCD ...” too often these days. Funny enough, I’m not sure half of the people, who use that phrase, truly understands what it means. I’m not a psychologist, nor do I have a career in the mental health field, but I’ve done more research than I ever thought I’d do, and I know the difference between a Type A person and one who suffers with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.
I wasn’t always so organized. It’s a known fact that artists are a little messier since thoughts are often more scattered. I can attest to that being true. Artists are odd people though, and I don’t mean that in a negative sense. We see life in a different light. When I see a mess, I find an interesting subject to focus on
within the mess. However, in time, the mess will stress me out to where I feel the need to clean. In years past, I would dump my brushes, pencils, and markers into a drawer, and shut down for the day, but if I had a white canvas with even a speck of imperfection, I would throw the canvas away because it meant my canvas was defective, and my painting would follow in suit. Therefore, one part of my brain prefers perfection, while the other part desires disarray. In other words, I’m a hot mess.
“Hey Dani,” Mr. H calls out from the kitchen, “are you ready for dinner?” Yup, I found a man who likes to cook. I’m one of the lucky ones.
“Yeah, I’ll be there in just one-second.” I place down my tin can full of blue colored pencils in line between the tin of green pencils and purple pencils. The edge of the tin cans line up with the piece of masking tape stuck from one side of my table to the other. Perfect. I’ve been diligently trying to place my tools in a particular order to help with my memory and avoid the trouble of losing items.