Fractured Hope (Undone Series Book 4)

by Kristy Love

  I hated myself. I hated my selfishness and my bitterness. I hated everything about me in that moment.

  I stood, frozen, as though my entire body had been doused in ice water. My heart stopped beating in my chest as pain raced from where my womb should have been and coursed through my body. My breaths came in shallow bursts as I tried desperately to control myself.

  Then why did it feel as though my entire world had just frozen and I was awash in a sea of pain?

  I knew I’d never get to be a mother again. I’d never feel my belly expand with life, nor would I feel those soft butterfly kicks become painful jabs to my already weak bladder. I’d never feel the wonderful pain of childbirth or the beauty of an ultrasound. My motherhood days were over . . . unless Gia woke up. And with each passing day, more and more hope that she’d ever open her gorgeous eyes again was slipping away.

  I couldn’t smile. I couldn’t speak. I could barely breathe.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, grabbing my purse. “I have to go.”

  “Mia, please,” Roxie pleaded. Her voice shook with emotion. I couldn’t look at her. I was too disgusting. I was aching too much. Why did it hurt this much?

  “I really need to leave.” I rushed from the room, tears falling down my cheeks. I couldn’t wait for the elevator. I couldn’t risk them finding me, so I ran down the stairs, sniffling and wiping tears away. I felt the pain in my heart and my empty abdomen.

  I felt the hatred taint my soul.

  Outside, I could no longer control the sobs. They came out violently, causing my body to hurt and throb. I shoved my hand in front of my mouth and rushed around the side of the building, out of view of the busy hospital entrance. I leaned against a wall, the brick scraping my back through my shirt. I hunched over, trying desperately to pull myself together. What if someone walked by and thought I was having a nervous breakdown and they admitted me to the mental ward?

  God, I didn’t need this.

  How had I become this person? Someone who couldn’t even muster up the ability to congratulate my brother and my friend. Someone who could only think of herself in the face of what should be happy news. Why did it leave me so devastated?

  I crouched down, resting my face against my knees as hot tears soaked my face and now my legs. My body shook with sobs that I held back. Pain crashed over me like waves in the ocean. They’d crash over me, then retreat, then crash over me again more violently, threatening to drown me on the spot. I could barely pull breath into my lungs.

  I was lost in a vortex, trying desperately to hold it together. I needed to get home. I needed to get into my bed and cover myself with blankets and not come out again. After a while, I pulled myself to the shore of my grief and stood, digging in my purse to find my keys. I needed to get the hell out of here.

  “Mia?” Roman said, his voice breaking me out of my torment. I looked up at him, though he was rather blurry through my tears. I couldn’t get words out. “Are you okay?”

  I couldn’t answer him, though it was a small comfort knowing he was there. Instead, the sobs I’d been fighting against burst free as I lunged forward and wrapped myself around Roman.

  He held me tightly, whispering reassurances in my ear. I couldn’t understand him, but his physical presence was enough. I clung to him as though he was my life raft, keeping me from drowning. In so many ways, he was. He kept me afloat in a sea of hopelessness. I was barely staying above the surface and he held me up so I could catch my breath.

  “Are you okay?” he asked again. I didn’t answer, just squeezed him tighter. He turned to someone and spoke. “I’m taking her home, man. Follow me in the bus?” It was only then it dawned on me that he was probably working. I couldn’t pull him away.

  “It’s okay,” I croaked. “You can go back to work.”

  “No, you shouldn’t drive right now. We just transferred a patient here when I saw you standing here.” He tipped my wet face up to his. “Let me help you.” I nodded, handing him the keys I just found. He wrapped his arms around me, ushering me forward. I pointed him toward my car, wishing I could pull myself together adequately. Knowing he was here for me, another piece of my heart fell for him. Maybe he was exactly what I needed.

  We drove in silence, though he kept stealing glances at me. He reached over and rested his hand on my knee. The warmth from his palm brought me a small slice of comfort. I focused on it to keep myself from falling apart. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I stared out the windshield, willing my mind to be blank. I didn’t want to think about all the things that were hurting me, breaking my heart. I didn’t want to think of the way I’d broken Roxie and David’s hearts with my reaction.

  I couldn’t handle all of this. It was too much. It hurt too damn much.

  He pulled into my driveway, turned the car off, and looked over at me. He waited for me to make a move or say something, but I couldn’t get anything out. I’d fall apart if I moved even a little bit. “I’ll be right back,” he said, climbing out of my car.

  I sat there, thoughts and feelings coursing through me at an alarming speed. I swallowed repeatedly, trying to get the lump that was strangling me to go away. Tears slid down my face. They wouldn’t stop. I couldn’t stop them.

  Could a person die from hurting this much? When had I become such a fucking wimp?

  A few moments later, Roman came back to my car and opened my door. “Let me help you up,” he said, his voice soft. I grabbed his calloused hand and let him help me stand. I looked at my house and knew I couldn’t go inside. There were too many memories and ghosts that would haunt me. I was pregnant in that house. I decorated a nursery. I’d been anxious to welcome a beautiful baby only to have it destroyed.

  “I can’t go inside my house,” I whispered, the words strained against the lump residing in my throat. “I can’t go in there.”

  “Do you want to come to my house?” he asked. I nodded, my eyes meeting his. He was worried. It was written in his cloudy eyes and his creased forehead. “Come on.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulders, propping me up, holding me together.

  Once we were inside, I sank onto his couch, worrying my hands in my lap.

  “Mia, are you okay?” he finally asked, his voice full of concern.

  I couldn’t answer him, I could only cry. He sat on the couch next to me and pulled me to him, his arm around my shoulders. I climbed into his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck. I couldn’t let him go. I needed him too much.

  I mourned. I mourned for who I used to be and who I would never be again. I mourned for the life I always wanted and would never have.

  “You’re freaking me out. Are you okay?” He rubbed his hand up and down my back. His other hand rested on my hip. I wasn’t sure if I was okay. In truth, no. But he made me feel better. How messed up was I?

  When I was cried out, I rested my forehead against his chest. “My brother’s girlfriend is pregnant.”

  “Oh?” He clearly had no idea how to handle that, especially since that should have been good news.

  “I should be happy, I know. I should be so excited to be an aunt, to hold a baby in my arms again. I want to be happy. God, I want to be so happy. But I can’t.” I sniffled. “We were in a car accident. Me and Gia. That’s why she’s in the hospital. The car accident was . . . bad. Really bad. Though it doesn’t take a genius to figure that out, especially since Gia is still . . . where she is.”

  “It sounded bad,” he responded. I hated that he felt he needed to be cautious around me. But maybe I was truly that broken.

  “I was pregnant and the accident caused me to lose the baby.” I stuttered out a breath. “Not only did I lose the baby, but my uterus. I lost the ability to ever have babies again.” Roman’s arms tightened around me. “I’m broken. My body is so broken. I can never carry a baby again. I will never hold my own baby in my arms. When David and Roxie told me they were expecting . . . that’s all I could think. All I could think about was how much I lost. If Gia never wakes up, I will never have childre
n.

  “And I hate myself. Why can’t I be happy for them? This is huge! They’re starting a family. They’ll have a precious baby and I’m sure they’ll let me be the crazy aunt who spoils the baby like crazy. But I can’t be happy. It hurts too much. Every breath, every day, every second. My whole body aches. It aches with the loss. I don’t know how to be okay with all of this. But, God. I want to be okay. I want to throw her a baby shower and rub her big belly and cradle that baby in my arms.” I sniffled as a fresh tear dropped onto my arm. “I couldn’t congratulate her or gush over her announcement. All I could feel was my emptiness. My loneliness. My pain. My inability to ever be a mother again.” A sob ripped from me as the pain welled around me, fresh. “My brother, the person who has been my rock and my family, is starting his own family and I don’t even want to talk to him. I’m the worst sister and friend on the entire planet. I couldn’t feel happiness for their happiness. What kind of monster does that make me?”

  “You’re not a monster. You’ve been through a lot. You have to give yourself time to grieve, Mia. You can’t expect yourself to be okay immediately.”

  “I’ve had more than a year, Roman. Isn’t that long enough? I should be able to be happy.”

  “If you give yourself some time, you’ll be happy. I know you will. You have too big of a heart to begrudge anyone any kind of happiness.”

  I sat up, searching his dark brown eyes. For the first time in so long, my heart felt almost whole. It expanded and filled and it hurt, but in a good way. He saw me, but a much better version of myself. One that wasn’t bitter and jaded and hurting. I wished I could be that person for him. “I do want them to be happy. I do. But I don’t know how to be happy for them, with them.”

  “You’ll find a way.” His hand slipped up my arm to my cheek, where he stroked my neck with with thumb. “You’ve lost a lot, but you also have so much to gain. You’ll be an amazing aunt. You’re already an amazing sister and friend. That baby will be so lucky to have you, Mia.”

  His kind words brought tears to my eyes. The way he looked at me made me feel beautiful. I rested my hand against his chest and felt his heart beating. It was steady, strong. I looked into his eyes and I wanted . . . something. I wanted something from him that I didn’t know how to process. I wanted his warm lips to press against mine and take away my pain. I wanted his hands to press me close and erase the worry in my mind. I wanted . . . him. I was sure he could do that because simply being with him made me stronger. He made me feel better than I’d felt since this new reality had become my life.

  “Shouldn’t you be getting back to work?” I realized I’d pulled him away from his job. My selfishness knew no bounds.

  “Nah,” he said. He grinned. “Scottie will cover for me. I’ve pulled a lot of extra shifts helping the guys out. They were nice enough to let me have the rest of the day off to spend with you. I want to make sure you’re okay.” His eyes shone with sincerity and butterflies swirled in my stomach.

  “I don’t want you to lose your job on account of me.”

  “My job is fine. One shift won’t kill me. I’ve worked hard, never missing a shift, for several years.”

  “Thank you,” I said, my voice small but sincere.

  He smiled at me and rubbed his hand over my back. “You know what would help you feel better?” he asked. I leaned a little closer.

  “What?” I asked, breathless.

  “Cookies.”

  The little bit of hope I’d felt drained out of me. Cookies. It always came back to that. “Cookies?” I tried to play off how deflated I felt with a small smile.

  “Yeah. I’ll help you. We’ll go to the store, buy the ingredients for whatever kind you want, and then we’ll make them.”

  I climbed off his lap, dragging the last of my dignity with me, and held out my hand. “I think today is more of a cupcake day, don’t you think?”

  CHAPTER 11

  Mia

  ROMAN TOOK A BITE OF the freshly-iced cupcake. He had a dusting of flour across his chest making his black shirt look gray. He had icing smeared on his cheek and more flour in his hair. I had no idea someone could be so messy while baking but I liked it. I liked baking with him. He cracked jokes and was unbelievably careless with the ingredients. He spilled a large portion of sugar all over the kitchen floor, which took a half hour to clean up. The entire time we were cleaning it, he chanted, “This is how you get ants.” And the way he said it caused me to lose my balance as I crouched on the floor, I laughed so hard.

  Without touching me, he made me feel better. He distracted me from the sorrow that threatened to eat me alive. He chased away the loneliness that damn near crushed me.

  There was something about an attractive man in the kitchen, getting his hands—and the kitchen—dirty as he baked.

  “Hot damn, Mia,” he said between bites. “This is the best cupcake I’ve ever eaten.”

  My cheeks heated and I looked down at the cupcake in my hand. “Thank you.”

  “How’d you learn to bake like this?” He picked up another and unwrapped it. Roman could seriously put away sweets. He could polish off a dozen-and-a-half cookies with no issue, and apparently, he could eat cupcakes for a meal. I wondered how he was able to stay in firefighter shape with the amount of junk he devoured.

  “I’ve baked for as long as I can remember. If it was rainy or chilly outside, my mom and I baked. We’d make cakes or pies or cookies; it was fun. It was one of my favorite things as a kid. I used to wish for rain so we could spend all day in the kitchen.” I remembered the days spent with her. We’d sometimes try new recipes, something she came up with all on her own. Sometimes they worked. Sometimes they were inedible. As I got older, I made up recipes. With a few exceptions, mine were always good. I spent days in the kitchen perfecting them and writing them down to remember. It was my passion.

  The memories of me and my mom spending hours in the kitchen—baking laughing, and talking—those were my favorite memories and the ones I tried to remember the least. They only brought pain now—all the calls I got after Gia’s accident, when my mom blamed me for hurting her grandbabies. It was my fault, she said. I shouldn’t have let Brock drive; I shouldn’t have let Brock drink. I shouldn’t have married Brock. It was all my fault. Every moment. It didn’t matter that I was hurting. All that mattered was the anger and pain that she felt. I hadn’t heard from her in over six months. She told me she wanted nothing to do with me. That stung, and I hated that this had become my life, my family. I’d truly lost everything.

  “You should bake more. Like all the time. Every day.”

  I laughed. “That was the plan.” And it had been. Before I met Brock, I worked at a bakery. I learned to make breads and cakes, as well. It was the best bakery in our area and specialized in wedding cakes that were different. They taught me so much, and I even taught the owner a few of my own recipes. She told me I had a bright future, that I was inventive and good.

  Then I met Brock. He wanted me to stay home, so I did. He cost me my dream along with my children.

  “It’s not too late, you know.” Roman bumped me with his shoulder. “You could start a business. It’d bring in money and I’m sure it’d help fill the hours between the hospital and work.”

  My heart melted at his suggestion. Seeing this new side of Roman, the caring side, caused something to stir inside of me. “I’d love to, but who would I sell to?”

  “The guys down at the station would eat this shit up.” He licked icing off his fingers and grabbed another cupcake. I had no idea how he didn’t get a stomach ache. “You could take them to the hospital, too. Brighten some patients’ days.”

  I loved Roman’s idea. Making something sweet for people who needed something to smile about. “Only if you help me.” I peeked up at him. I wanted an excuse to see him more. The feelings stirring inside me were scary and new, but I liked it. It was better than the numbness or hurt I felt every other day. He made me smile. That had to mean something.

 
A smile spread over his face. He dragged his finger through icing and smeared it on my nose. My heart raced. “Of course I’ll help.”

  I leaned forward and wiped the icing from his cheek. I popped my finger into my mouth and smiled around it. Something passed behind his eyes, something close to desire, before he chased it away. Though his eyes stayed on my finger.

  * * *

  I avoided Roxie and David for as long as I could, guilt and other ugly emotions swirling through me. How could I possibly make it up to them? How could I apologize enough? Was there a way to make them understand what I was going through? I felt what I had to say needed to be said in person, not over the phone or in a text. I wanted to sit down with them and talk it out. The initial emotion I’d felt was overwhelming. It was as if the scabs that had formed over my wounds were all simultaneously ripped open and salt had been rubbed in them. I wasn’t proud of what I did, but it had hurt. A lot. It was like experiencing all the loss all at once and there was no way to process it all.

  An idea struck me. I decided to make cupcakes for them. I moved through the kitchen, gathering the ingredients I needed. I hadn’t made these cupcakes for Roxie and David since before the accident. David used to ask me for them all the time. After the accident, though, it was too much to think about baking.

  Before I knew it, the red velvet cupcakes were done cooling and I iced them with homemade cream cheese frosting. Hopefully, they’d accept my peace offering.

  I took a chance that they’d be home. Nerves didn’t hit me until I pulled up in front of their house. I eyed it, wondering what would happen. Would they be upset with me? Would they forgive me? Had I ruined everything?

  A curtain moved in front of the window, though I didn’t see who it was, and then the front door burst open and Roxie barreled across the front yard. I’d barely made it out of the car before she tackled me in a hug, apologizing and crying at the same time. I returned her embrace, offering my own apologies as tears broke free. I couldn’t hear what she was saying as we both talked over each other.