Shattered Heart: The Donnellys, Book 3

by Dorothy F. Shaw

  “That’s quite the visual.” Katie winked at her. “But I do know what that feels like.”

  Cyn took a seat at her countertop bar and faced the most important women in her life. She supposed an intervention made sense…to them, but what they didn’t know was they were wasting their time and hers. Cyn’s mother rose, moved to the coffee pot and refilled her mug. Cyn glanced over at her. Her mother caught her gaze and Cyn felt the first, then second tear roll down her cheeks.

  Mom put her mug down and immediately moved to Cyn and pulled her into an embrace. “Ah, my sweet girl.” She stroked the back of Cyn’s hair. “It’s going to be okay. I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but it will be. I promise you.”

  Wrapping her arms around her mother’s waist, Cyn absorbed the comfort that—no matter how old a person got—they sometimes needed from their mom. Her mother stroked her back and Cyn let the tears flow, not that she had much of a choice because it seemed that the anger she’d been marinating in and spewing everywhere, was all fizzled out. In its place was raw hurt. She cried over what Carlos had done to her, and she cried for what she’d done to Shane…she knew she’d hurt him.

  Cyn wanted to fix it—all of it. Herself and the situation with Shane. But fixing herself was the first step. Cyn sniffled and her mother handed her a tissue. Pulling away, she blew her nose as she glanced around at her sisters. They were all crying too.

  “So…” She glanced down at her fingernails. Her normally perfect manicured nails looked like shit, which was because she’d been neglecting them. She’s been neglecting a lot of things. “I’ve decided I’ll go to therapy.”

  “Oh, chica, that’s awesome!” Maiya hopped up and came running to Cyn. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day!”

  Angie was next, moving beside her. She gave Cyn a kiss on the cheek. “Do you want me to go with you? You know, for the first time or something?”

  Cyn let a small smile arch her lips. She loved Angie, all of her sisters really, even Mary. But Angie…Ang had always been hers. Even with their age difference, she and Angie got along. She played with Barbie dolls with Angie long after Cyn had lost interest in them, all because Angie wanted to play. “I think this is something I should do myself, honey. But you can meet me afterward with some Boom Chocolatta and a spoon.”

  Angie laughed. “I’m so down with that.”

  Cyn leaned her head on her mother’s shoulder. “So the intervention wasn’t necessary. Last night’s—” She glanced between Maiya and Angie. “That was last night, right? I didn’t lose days to some weird emotional coma, right?”

  Angie giggled. “No, it was last night. But, for real, wouldn’t it be cool if you could actually do that?”

  “Do what?” Mary asked.

  “Jeez, Mary, keep up. What she means, little sister, is that if your heart is broken or you’re deeply sad about something, it’d be cool to just go into a little coma and get a short break from the heartache.” Katie rolled her eyes.

  “Oh. Weird.” Mary frowned.

  Cyn laughed. “And that’s why we call Katie the big guns. Plus, she’s the only one Mary listens to and doesn’t boss around.”

  “That’s not true!” Mary got to her feet and rested her hands on her hips. “Stop picking on me.”

  “Sit down, Mary. You need a Valium or an orgasm…something. I don’t know which, maybe both. But just cool your jets.” With one brow raised and arms crossed on the table, Katie stared up at Mary.

  Mary sat almost as fast as she’d stood, right on command, and Cyn had to suppress a “Told you so.” Somehow, she managed to not say it. It wasn’t worth it, not right then, anyway.

  Their mother smoothed Cyn’s hair back from her face. “One of the servers at the restaurant has mentioned someone they go to, they sound like they might be pretty good. I’ll ask her the name.”

  “Okay.” Cyn nodded and smothered a yawn with the back of her hand. She was tired. But more so, she was weary…and she was defeated—hopeless even. At least those were the feelings that kept rising and receding, only to rise again, inside her.

  “Good. I think we’ll get out of your hair, unless you want us to stay?”

  “No. I’m okay.” Cyn looked at Maiya and Angie. “Unless you two want to stay again?”

  Maiya ran her fingers through her hair. “Wish I could, honey. I need to get home to Jacob. He’s missing me something fierce…and Ryan is too. Personally, I think it’s really just Ryan doing the missing.” Maiya let out a small chuckle. “Little man loves his auntie Cyn so he knows that I needed to be here. But I’ll stop by tomorrow right after work.”

  “I’ll stay, Cyn. No worries, honey.” Angie rubbed Cyn’s back.

  Relief washed through Cyn. She didn’t want to be alone again for fear there’d be a repeat of last night’s drama. “Thanks, Ang.”

  Once everyone was gone, she and Angie crawled into Cyn’s bed. Angie had her laptop propped on her lap and was browsing through Netflix to find something for them to watch. Cyn didn’t much care what her sister picked, as long as it wasn’t a chick flick. The last thing she felt like watching was a happy-ever-after love story. Happy was a stupid pipe dream—one Cyn didn’t want to be reminded of.

  She cradled Shane’s pillow against her chest. “I miss him, Ang.”

  “Aw, baby doll.” Angie smoothed her palm over Cyn’s hair. “I know you do. Why don’t you call him?”

  Cyn sniffled and wiped the tear that’d emerged and trickled over her nose. “No.”

  “Why not? I bet he misses you too.”

  “I don’t know how he could. After the way I treated him? I wouldn’t blame him if he hated me.”

  “Hey, if he hates you, it means he loves you.” Angie focused back on the computer.

  Cyn frowned. “What? Angie, you’re crazy. That makes no sense.”

  “Oh, it makes perfect sense. Trust me on that. Hate is a strong emotion, just as strong as love, and when a man loves you like Shane does? There’s no doubt he might hate you a little too. Ask Mom, betcha she’ll agree with me. Love and hate? They go together, Cyn.”

  Cyn let out a sigh. It made sense, sort of. She’d definitely felt hate for the men in her past relationships, but it was only after they’d pushed her past the point of no return and it was just too painful to love them anymore.

  Hate was easier to feel. But hate also paved the road to her getting over those guys, so if Shane hated her, eventually he’d get over her. The thought made Cyn’s stomach cramp, folding in on itself. She didn’t want Shane to hate her. And she definitely didn’t want him to get over her. But Cyn didn’t know how to stop either from happening.

  She’d done the damage and made her bed. The only thing for her to do now was lay in it.

  * * * * *

  A few days later, Cyn emerged from the counselor’s office feeling…not so relieved, but more like she’d just gone through the spin cycle in an industrial-sized washing machine. Her insides felt scrubbed raw. And her mind was filled with the memories of the night with Carlos. Having to tell that story, in detail, sucked more than the night she’d experienced it. Bile had burned the back of her throat the whole time she talked.

  The therapist had assessed her issues, based on some questions that she’d asked, and determined that Cyn was only one symptom away from actually having PTSD. Instead the woman felt she had ASD: Acute Stress Disorder.

  It made sense enough to Cyn, but really, all Cyn cared about was the fact that she was sick of feeling like a total nut job in her head and also real fucking tired of being pissed off all the time and biting everyone’s head off.

  As she crossed the parking lot to her car, her cell phone beeped with a text alert and she pulled it from her purse. Swiping her thumb across the screen she read the message.

  Angie: Are you out yet?

  Cyn: Just barely. Walking to the car now.


  Angie: Cool beans. Meet at my place. Maiya is here and we have ice cream and whiskey.

  Cyn: Oh, shit. LOL Okay, be there in 40 or so.

  With a smile on her face—which was a totally unexpected thing and quite rare as of late—Cyn tucked her phone away and slid behind the wheel of her Jeep. Her sister was a freaking angel, and Maiya was too. Ice cream and whiskey seemed like the oddest combo on the planet, yet the absolute perfect one.

  After the heavy, heart-wrenching session with the counselor, Cyn needed a bit of a reprieve from her emotions. And of course, Angie and Maiya knew exactly how best to give her that. Pulling out into traffic, Cyn drew in a few cleansing breaths and queued up her iPod. The familiar beat of her friend, Tarra Layne’s song “Beautiful Day” flowed through the interior of the vehicle and Cyn smiled again.

  It was a beautiful day and things were looking better than they had in a long time, but she had a feeling the next several sessions were going to be just as difficult as this first one had been. The counselor assured her that it would get easier, and Cyn really hoped the woman was right.

  Traffic was lighter than she’d expected and she got to Angie’s in less than the forty minutes she’d figured on. After parking, Cyn made her way to her sister’s front door.

  Mid-knock, Angie swung the door wide. “Why are you knocking? Did you lose your key?”

  “No, I think I left it at home in my other purse.” Cyn stepped past Angie.

  “All good. Maiya’s in the back.”

  Cyn followed Angie through the kitchen to the back door. Maiya was stretched out on the outdoor loveseat, whiskey in one hand, cigarette in the other. She glanced up as soon as Cyn stepped outside. “What’s up, chickadee?”

  Cyn took the spot next to her. “Oh, you know, just been through a rinse and spin cycle, AKA therapy. You?”

  “I cooked my boys dinner. Kissed them both on the top of their heads, grabbed a bottle of Jameson from the cabinet and high-tailed my ass over here.” Maiya grinned and took a drag of her smoke.

  “When are you going to quit smoking?” Angie approached with three bowls of ice cream, precariously balanced in her hands.

  Cyn jumped up and grabbed one of the bowls. “Oh my God you could have dropped the Boom Chocolatta. What is wrong with you? Never ever risk the Chocolatta!” Cyn giggled and shoved a spoonful in her mouth.

  Maiya grinned and took the bowl Angie offered her. “Never mind about my smoking. It’s been a topic as of late with Ryan. And, yeah, no shit about the risk to the ice cream. Don’t you have a tray? You’re a Donnelly, for fuck’s sake. You all have serving crap galore.”

  “Who needs a tray when you have hands and skills?” Angie laughed. “But yeah, I do have a shit ton of trays. Don’t tell my mother.” Her sister lit the gas fire ring centered in the square, slate-tiled table centered between the loveseat and two chairs. “So, why are you and Ryan discussing your smoking?” Angie took a seat in one of the cushioned chairs and spooned up a mouthful of ice cream.

  “Now, this is a topic I do want to talk about.” Cyn smiled again. Wow, she actually felt the twinge of a cramp in her cheeks. Jesus, had it really been that long since she’d smiled regularly that her cheeks were cramping? The realization only made her smile more. She wasn’t cured by any stretch, but apparently simply talking about the attack with Carlos in detail had already started to lift a burden Cyn hadn’t realized she was carrying.

  “You two, I tell you what. Never mind that now. Cyn tell us about the session. Did you like the therapist?” Maiya propped her feet on the table and wiggled her toes in front of the flame.

  “Okay fine, but first—” Cyn swallowed a spoonful of chocolate bliss and then continued, “—where’s the whiskey?”

  Maiya laughed. “I got mine before I came outside.”

  “Damn, I need another arm.” Angie hopped up, ran in the house and was back before Cyn got two more mouthfuls of ice cream in—two glasses and the bottle in hand. She placed them on the table, filled each one two fingers full and resumed her seat. “Okay, go!”

  Maiya burst into a fit of giggles. “You are so fucking cute, Angie. We gotta find you a man. For real.”

  “Ugh, no way. I don’t do blind dates.” She sipped her whiskey, then tilted her head to the side. “What a strange flavor.”

  “Ang, you know you don’t have to do the moratorium anymore, right? I mean, that’s kind of the farthest thing from my mind right now. Not really fair for you to continue.”

  “I have decided that being single for a little while is working for me. Doubt I’ll do a year, but for now, I’m okay with it.” Angie shrugged. “Okay, so? Therapist?”

  Knowing her sisters weren’t going to let it go, Cyn took a deep breath, along with another mouthful of ice cream, and shored up her emotions. “She’s this interesting-looking older lady. Glasses that are too big for her face. Gray hair that sorely needs a style and she had on a horrid beige cardigan sweater. She probably owns only orthopedic shoes.”

  “I guess it’s a good thing you’re not going to her for fashion advice then, hmm?” Maiya nodded with a grin and lit a cigarette.

  Cyn leaned forward. “True. It’s kind of like talking to a really nice older aunt. Or godmother, you know? I like her though.” She swirled her spoon in her ice cream.

  Maiya blew out a stream of smoke. “Comfortable. Safe.” She smiled. “I feel that way about your mom.”

  Genuine happiness flowed through her heart hearing Maiya talk about the admiration and love she felt for their mother. Once again, Cyn knew her brother had struck gold when he found Maiya. “I’m glad you feel that way, Maiya.” She squeezed her sister-in-law’s hand and smiled.

  “Me too.” Maiya nodded as a small smile arched her lips.

  Cyn blew out a breath. “So, anyway, she made me talk about what happened with Carlos. In full detail of course. It was rough, not gonna lie about that. But the crazy thing is, I feel better already.” Cyn sat back. “Then she asked me some questions and when I expressed that I didn’t want to be on pills, she said that was entirely my decision. I’m pretty relieved about that. I mean, I have nothing against medication, but I’m relieved no one’s forcing it on me.”

  Angie curled her legs beneath her. “That all sounds so wonderful, Cyn! Are you going to see her again?”

  “Yeah, I guess I’m going to do twice a week for the next few weeks. We’re just going to talk about it until it’s just…I dunno, I guess till it’s gone.”

  “You are so fucking brave and I am so fucking proud of you.” Maiya leaned over and wrapped her arms around Cyn.

  Angie came over and slid on the other side of Cyn, wrapping her arms around her too. “Ditto.”

  Tears sprung and dripped down Cyn’s cheeks. “I love you guys.”

  “We love you too!” Maiya pulled away and swiped away a tear dripping down Cyn’s cheek. “Here for you always, chica. Always.”

  “Thank fuck for that. I don’t think I could go through this without either of you. And I’m so sorry for how horrible I’ve been to both of you.”

  Angie stroked Cyn’s back. “There is no need for apologies. None of that matters.”

  Cyn shifted and rested her head on Angie’s shoulder. “Think I’m ready for more whiskey. It’s been a really emotional day.”

  “Bring on the whiskey!” Maiya patted Cyn’s leg and then picked up her glass for her.

  Cyn took it and held it up as Maiya and Angie raised theirs.

  “Sláinte,” Angie said.

  “Sláinte,” Cyn repeated with a nod. All three of them tapped the bottom of their glasses on the table and drank the booze down.

  The whiskey burned as it coated her throat and as the warmth spread through her, Cyn knew she was blessed. Blessed with a family that always had her back. That would love her without hesitation, even when she was unlovable, and also glue her back
together when she’d been shattered.

  It filled her heart with joy, but the feeling was bittersweet since Shane wasn’t there. And to add insult to injury, Shane didn’t have the kind of unconditional love that Cyn got from her family. In fact, the only place he received that kind of love was from her family…and she’d gone and sent him away. Ugh, she was such a shit.

  Jesus, she’d made a colossal mess of things with him. And she could only hope the therapist would be willing to help her sort that issue out too.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Cyn sat across from Jean, her therapist, in one of the overstuffed leather chairs. Today was her sixth session. She’d been going twice a week for the past three weeks and although it’d been one hell of an emotional journey, it was actually getting a whole lot easier. And Cyn was feeling a whole lot better too.

  “Did you have any dreams over the weekend?” Jean shifted in her seat and crossed her legs. Today the woman wore a red cardigan over a white blouse, a pair of sensible tan khakis and equally sensible brown shoes. Her overgrown bangs were pulled to the side in a barrette while the rest of the gray locks fell messily, skimming the top of her shoulders. Cyn was no fashion or beauty expert, but it was clear, Jean was in need of a complete makeover.

  Cyn tilted her head to the side and thought for a moment. “I actually don’t think I had any bad dreams. I mean, I suppose I could’ve and just not remembered, but I definitely feel like I’m getting more rest. I’m nowhere near as exhausted as I was.”

  “That’s a good sign. What about the living room? Did you spend some time in there as we discussed you would last week?”

  “Ah yes, my homework assignment.” Cyn chuckled.

  Jean smiled, her laugh lines crinkling around her eyes. “Yes, homework indeed.”

  “Angie and Maiya came over and we watched a movie in there.”