The Missing Pieces of Me: Discover the novel that will break your heart and mend it again

by Amelia Mandeville

  Oh and Zara walks now! She did it, she walks like she’s a drunken guy heading home after too many pints at the pub, but she walks. Willow was there when it happened too, which made it all the more perfect.

  Mum has baked a shepherd’s pie (again) and she’s just dishing it out when Willow and I come into the kitchen. I strap Zara into her high chair and Willow takes one of the empty seats next to Elliot. Let’s state the obvious: there is always a little bit of awkwardness, forced normality. Mum has been on her best behaviour, and I’m thankful for that at least. I thought she’d be furious at Willow, but she wasn’t. Weirdly, I think Mum understands her. It was her idea to start asking Willow to dinner on a Sunday.

  ‘So how is your dad?’ Alicia asks, flashing a smile at Willow.

  ‘Yeah, he’s good thanks, we’re pretty good.’

  Willow is now living with her dad in Reading, trying to build a sort of relationship. She is also going to do a course there part-time. Her dad is pretty involved now. It’s not the relationship she always grew up dreaming she’d have, because there are missed years and memories and they leave cracks. There is hurt and betrayal in her heart, but there is also her dad in her life. There is another person to love her, and I know he is looking out for her, and for that I’m happy, even if it’s hard to not be sad that it’s not me. He always drops her off here, and always picks her up. I don’t know what he does whilst Willow is eating with us. Heads to a pub maybe, or goes for a walk. I haven’t asked. Maybe one day he’ll even join us for dinner. I still don’t feel we’re quite there yet.

  After dinner we help Mum clean up, and Willow and I go upstairs to give Zara a bath, together. That was another part of our agreement. A couple of hours each week together as a three. A snapshot of a normal family.

  I always find this bit hard. I’m desperate to reach out to hold Willow’s hand, something so simple I took for granted. Sometimes I shove my hands in my pocket because I don’t know what to do with them. Then we tuck Zara into bed, and my stomach grows uneasy. This always means she is going soon.

  I still worry that she won’t come back.

  ‘So how was therapy this week?’ I whisper once Zara has dropped off. We are sat side by side in the darkness of my bedroom.

  She looks at me, her eyes lowering, her awkward smile falling. ‘I … uh … I didn’t end up going.’

  I smile at her. ‘Hey, Willow, it’s cool, it doesn’t matter if you miss a session. It’s a journey, not a quick fix, you get that, right?’

  She looks up at me, nodding her head. ‘How is it going for you?’

  I chew on the inside of my cheek, suddenly feeling self-conscious. She’s never asked me about it before. I didn’t even realise she knew I’m going. ‘Yeah,’ I reply, avoiding her eyes. ‘It’s going OK, actually.’

  She smiles, placing her hand on mine. ‘That’s good to hear,’ she says. And then we just sit there, in silence again. There is always so much I want to ask her. What is her dad’s place like? What is he doing for money? Is she going to get a job? How is her university course? She doesn’t talk about it. Does she like it? Is she going to stay there for ever? What does she get up to on her weekends with Zara? How is she feeling? Is she happy? Is she sad? Does she miss me like I miss her? Has she considered dating? Me? Other people?

  But I never ask her any of these questions. I worry because not asking questions is half of what got us here, but now the relationship is different. I’m not her boyfriend any more. I have to give her the space she needs now. And I have a feeling that when she’s ready to answer them, she’ll tell me of her own accord. And she knows now, I hope, that I’ll listen when she does.

  Then we are hugging. I’m not sure who initiated it, but we are leaning forward, arms wrapped around each other, and it feels safe. It feels like a missing piece of a puzzle, it feels right. And I feel myself growing sadder the longer we hug, because it means the hug will end soon, and I really don’t want it to. She still smells the same. I used to get annoyed by her hair flicking into my mouth but I don’t any more. I used to take her for granted, I used not to appreciate our hugs, and now they are like the greatest gift in the world. I can feel her heavy heart beating against mine.

  Then I hear a car horn beep.

  Her dad’s here.

  I don’t want to open the door. But I have to, so eventually, after an uncomfortable amount of time standing by the closed door, I open it. Something flashes in Willow’s eyes – relief? Or sadness?

  Her dad is parked outside our house and he gives a wave through the window. I force a smile, waving back, before turning back to Willow. I sigh. I hate goodbyes. But I can do it. I do it every week because I know it’s not a goodbye for ever.

  I have to believe Willow won’t leave me for ever.

  And I think I do believe it.

  ‘Bye, Dustin, see you next Friday.’

  I force a smile.

  ‘Yep.’

  Chapter 80

  Willow

  There are still times when I feel it’s all too much. Living with my dad is fine, but it’s not like there’s no awkwardness between us sometimes. And after one particularly trying weekend with Zara – when she was constantly grizzly and I just couldn’t seem to cheer her up or get her to smile, even for a second – the temptation to walk away from it all again was overwhelming. And when I dropped her off at Dustin’s he had looked at me so hopefully that I felt the weight of all his expectation crushing me.

  On the drive home from Dustin’s I could barely speak to my dad. All I could hear was the voice in my head, the one saying it would never get better. I visualised packing a bag. But my dad must have sensed it, because as we were pulling into the drive he said: ‘You know, kid, running away never solves anything. Not when you’re running away from yourself.’

  But that was months ago now. Since then I’ve started seeing a therapist. For a while, talking about everything in such detail made it all feel worse. But then, gradually, it got better. I’ve realised that sometimes things have to get harder before they get better.

  Today my therapist said I should write a letter. To bring things round full circle. To understand how far I’ve come since I left that note for Dustin on our kitchen table. It started with a letter, so end it with a letter.

  I take a deep breath, and I start to write.

  Dear Dustin …

  Chapter 81

  Dustin

  I always feel weird the day I know I’ll be seeing Willow. It feels in a way that it was easier when I didn’t see her for an extended amount of time. But I have survived the day. I went to work, came home, and got Zara ready for Willow to collect her. After they leave, Alicia, Elliot and I will cook dinner together and will probably watch an episode of Stranger Things. Mum is out with her therapist friend.

  Last week I told her I was looking to rent a place with Zara soon and she didn’t take it particularly well. Started demanding what was wrong here, didn’t I feel comfortable, etc. But eventually she realised that moving out didn’t mean I was erasing myself from her life, but that I need to have the space to build my own as well. I can’t keep sharing my bedroom with Zara. And I’m going to buy a car soon. I’ve been learning to drive and my instructor reckons I’m about ready for my test. Turns out I’m a pretty good driver. And it means I’ll be able to take Zara to visit Willow in Reading.

  Everything is OK.

  Life hasn’t worked out the way I planned, but I guess that’s OK.

  I hear the doorbell go, and I gather Zara into my arms and head towards the door.

  Willow seems quiet this evening, but not in her usual, anxious way. There’s a calmness about her that I don’t really recognise. She asks me about my day, gives Zara a huge kiss, and says she’ll see me on Sunday.

  As I am heading back into the living room, I hear the tap of the post box. I hurry back to the front door and see a letter on the doormat. I pick it up and see it is addressed to me.

  Hand delivered, because postmen don’t deliver l
etters at this time. There also is no stamp and no address.

  My hand hovers over the doorknob. If I open the door now, I’ll catch the person who posted it, they won’t have got round the corner yet. My fingers are outstretched, ready to grip, ready to open.

  No.

  Not any more, Dustin.

  I sigh, and let my hands drop.

  I pick up the letter, sit on the stairs, take a deep breath, and open it.

  Dear Dustin,

  I’m really glad you found me at the coffee shop. My life has changed since then. I really thought it was best that I stayed apart from you both, but I realise now that wasn’t true for me. I will never be able to make up for the pain I caused you, the trust issues, and anxiety you now have. But I have loved seeing you and Zara again recently, and I’m always counting down the days till we next see each other.

  I know there is an elephant in the room, and I always want to talk to you about it, but never manage to get the words out. I haven’t fallen out of love with you, I love you. I am very much in love with you. In fact sometimes I wish I didn’t love you, so I wouldn’t feel sad every time we say our goodbyes. It’s not as simple as being in love though. I would love to say I want to get back together, but I don’t think it’s fair to do that to you again. You already put your life on pause for me when I left.

  I need to know what is going on with me, and I need space to do that. Georgia once told me that I have to give all of myself to a relationship, not just hide the pieces I don’t want anyone else to see. I think though that I still haven’t quite worked out where those pieces are, and how to make them come together. That’s going to take some time, so please don’t wait for me.

  I know you said you felt like we’re at a crossroads and we need to choose a road. But I think I’d rather just go straight ahead for now, and not make any turns, in either direction. I know that you might not want that. You’re a wonderful guy Dustin, and I know there’s someone out there who can make you really happy, so I’d hate to hold you back from that. In fact, I want you to find that person in your life. I think that would make me happy too.

  I considered going back to talk to my mum about everything that happened, but I’ve decided I’m not going to see her any more. Sometimes it’s the right thing to say goodbye for good. Sometimes it’s not. Sometimes goodbye just means starting again …

  W x

  Acknowledgements

  I want to thank my entire family, who have been the most encouraging to me on my writing journey: Henry, Anya, Grace, Ryan – I’ve done it again, written another book, just like you believed and encouraged, and will always help.

  Mum and Dad, you always told me to never give up with my writing, have always been there through my worries and my doubts, as well as sharing how proud you are of me – thank you! Love you!

  I want to thank my agency, Bell Lomax Moreton, who represent me, and believed in me; especially Jo, my direct agent, who I can always message with any queries or questions, and who has made this process so much easier for me.

  Thank you to Abby, for being the most supportive editor, helping build the foundations of this story, and then Rosanna, who took over halfway and added another beautiful layer to the journey of Willow and Dustin. I was nervous about getting a new editor, but we instantly clicked, and have enjoyed every moment of working with you.

  Thank you to Francesca, Brionee, Thalia and Cath, and the rest of the Little, Brown team for all the work you’ve done, as well as letting me part of the team again.

  I want to thank my friends, who have always had the utmost support for me; a special shout-out to Liam, Joe, Jonny, Anthony, Gee, and Naomi.

  Thanks to Karl, who I’m pretty sure is always the first person to pre-order and read my stories.

  Thank you to my boyfriend Pete, who makes my head bigger every day; you always boost my confidence, and encourage me to do my best. My partner in crime – thank you!

  Additionally, thanks to Pete’s mum Kay, who always is spreading the word of my stories and sharing her support.

  Thank you to you for picking up this book, and choosing to read it – you have made my dream come true.

  A book to break your heart and put it back together again – Every Colour of You is the unforgettable debut novel from Amelia Mandeville.

  Zoe and Tristan couldn’t be more different – which is precisely why, when they meet in a hospital waiting room, Zoe becomes determined to get to know Tristan more.

  But Tristan is struggling with a sadness no one seems to understand, least of all himself.

  Giving up isn’t in Zoe’s nature, and as the two spend more time together, it seems like Tristan might be coming around to seeing the world the way she does.

  Until one day when everything changes – and in trying to put Tristan back together, Zoe finds herself falling apart …

  ‘An utterly heart-wrenching tale of friendship, love, happiness, sadness, fun and pure joy’

  NetGalley reviewer