Pieces of You (Shattered Hearts) by Leo Cassia

Author:Leo, Cassia [Leo, Cassia]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2013-04-29T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

Adam

I’M WOKEN BY THE PINGING sound of a voicemail message. I glance at my phone on the bedside table and see the screen is lit up. I slide it off the table and squint at the screen as my eyes attempt to adjust to the brightness. Claire just left me a voicemail at one in the morning.

I touch the screen and it automatically plays the message in my ear: I’m sorry to call you at this time. I just need to hear your voice. Call me later.

I can hear the anguish and uncertainty in her words. She has to be upset if she’s calling me at six in the morning, her time. I should never have come here.

I call her back right away and she picks up on the first ring. “Adam?”

The way she says my name with such relief is both comforting and worrying. “What happened?”

I’ve been going over our next conversation in my head all day, thinking of how I’m going to break it to her that I think we need a break from each other, to get things straightened out in our lives. She has so much going on and I want to be there for her, but I can’t. She needs someone there. If it can’t be me—fucking hell—it should be him.

“I just wish you were here,” she whispers.

“You don’t want to talk about it?”

“I think I just needed to hear your voice.”

Fuck. How am I going to do this?

“I love hearing your voice,” I say as my stomach clenches with anticipation. “I wish I was there, too.”

“You sound tense.”

I take a deep breath and sit up in my bed. This room is a lot bigger than my bedroom in Wrightsville Beach. Most people think that they want spacious homes, but they don’t realize how the emptiness of a large room just amplifies the emptiness in a broken heart. And we’re all broken, in one way or another.

“I am tense.” She’s silent as she waits for me to elaborate. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“When am I ever truly okay? I’m a mess, as usual.”

I want to say, “You’re my mess, and that makes you a beautiful mess,” but I don’t want to get distracted. I need to get this over with before I lose my nerve.

“Claire, you know I love you, don’t you? You know I’d do anything for you?”

She pauses for a moment, probably trying to figure out where I’m going with this. “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to talk to you. I’m trying to talk about what’s best for you.”

“What best for me? Are you trying to talk to me or are you trying to tell me what’s best for me?”

She’s not going to make this easy, not that I expected she would. I can hear each of her breaths, soft and quick on the other end of the phone and it’s killing me. She can already anticipate what’s coming.

“I don’t want to be another distraction. You need to focus on school. You can’t keep failing tests and losing sleep.

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