All My Broken Pieces (FindingLight #2)

Chapter 11

Fallon

I fidget with my glasses, glancing around the crowded restaurant. A shiver runs through my body when the door opens and a cold breeze from outside blows in.

I really should have worn a jacket.

Reaching a shaky hand forward, I pick up my glass of water and take a sip. I can vaguely hear Logan saying something, but can’t bring myself to care enough to listen. My mind keeps going back to my drunken night with Arriana.

The feel of her hands on me, of her tongue licking all the right places, the sound of her groaning as she fucked me.

I shift in my seat, trying to alleviate some of the growing pressure at the memories.

“So, what do you do?” Logan’s voice filters through my mind, bringing my attention back to the present.

I’m on a date.

Right.

Clearing my throat, I tuck my hair behind my ear as I take another drink of water. “Oh, me?” I mumble, glancing up at him.

He’s an attractive man. His dark hair is trimmed short, a layer of stubble lines his jaw. Sharp cheekbones and a pair of bushy eyebrows accentuate his brown eyes.

I blink as I stare at his eyes, the color reminding me so much of someone else. Someone I shouldn’t be thinking about, but can’t seem to stop myself.

At my silence, he chuckles and nods his head. “Yes, you.” He looks around the room. “Unless there’s another gorgeous girl I was supposed to meet for dinner.” Horror overtakes his expression as he gasps, “Oh shit, you are Fallon, right?” My eyes widen until a smirk covers his face.

Oh, he’s fucking with me.

Rolling my eyes, I let out a quiet laugh, twirling my water glass in my hands. “Ha ha.” I flick my eyes up to his, a smile tipping up the corners of my lips at the boyish grin on his face.

Leaning forward, Logan clasps his hands on the table. “So, tell me all about you .” He insists.

The rest of the date goes…well. I hate to admit that I actually had fun once I loosened up a bit. His personality was playful and easy to get along with. We talked about everything and anything, save for the one thing my mind couldn’t stay away from. But at the end of the night when we pulled up to the condominium, my stomach dropped.

Sitting beside him, I pick at my nails. “So, um…” I mumble, trying so desperately to want this.

It’s the right thing.

I peek at him out of the corner of my eye, finding him watching me with a look that has me gulping.

This is how it should be.

Logan reaches a hand toward me, tucking my hair behind my ear as he leans closer. My breath catches as I force myself to stay still. His lips press to mine and I feel…nothing.

I sit there, allowing him to kiss me. I can’t tell if he’s getting any real enjoyment out of it either, until his hand slips down to my thigh and he moans into my mouth.

Gasping, I lean back, fumbling with the door as I try to find the handle. “This was, um, fun.” I blurt out, releasing a small breath of relief when my fingers close around the cold metal. Opening the door, I clamber out backward, leaving a shocked Logan halfway bent over the seat.

Without another word, I give him a small wave and dash inside. I don’t know what he’s thinking. Well, maybe I do. He’s probably thinking I’m crazy or something along those lines.

I groan as I can almost hear what my mom is going to say when she finds out. Because she will. All the women in her circle are gossips, The Real Housewives level. And while I enjoy watching the drama unfold on the screen, I loathe being involved, let alone the center of it.

Fumbling with my purse, I pull out the spare key that Killian made for me when I moved in, breathing a sigh of relief when I twist the lock and the doors open to my temporary home.

Ava looks up from the couch where she’s snuggled up to her husband. Her smile fades as she studies my expression. Extracting herself from Killian’s arm, she walks over and pulls me against her. “Oh, Fallon.” She murmurs, running her hand down my hair.

I cling to her, dropping my bag on the floor. A quiet cry breaks free from my chest as my body shakes.

“Shhh. It’s okay, babe.” Pressing her cheek to my head, she wraps her arms around me in a tight hug. “Do you want to talk about it?” Ava asks, her tone concerned.

I know what she’s thinking. What I would be thinking if the situation were reversed.

Shaking my head, I pull back and wipe the tears away. “No.” I hiccup, bending to pick up my purse. “I’m f-fine. I just…I think I’m going to take a bath.” I can feel two sets of eyes follow me as I trudge down the hall, but I don’t look back.

After I gather my things from the bedroom, I head toward the guest bath, pausing my steps when I hear low voices drift down the hall.

“I’m worried about her.” Ava’s voice sounds, the worry bleeding into her tone.

“I know, baby girl.” Killian soothes. “But she needs to figure this out on her own.” Ava sighs heavily in response.

I don’t wait to see if they say anything else. Slipping into the bathroom, I start the water, testing the temperature before putting in the drain plug and pouring in my rose scented foaming bath soap. I watch the bubbles form as the water fills the tub, my mind whirling with thoughts I don’t know how to fight.

I felt nothing.

My mind drifts back to the kiss, to Logan pressing his soft lips against mine.

No, that’s not true.

Tears fill my eyes, the drops falling to add to the liquid filling the bath.

I felt guilty.

Like I betrayed her.

A strangled noise leaves me as I bury my face in my hands.

If this is the right thing, why does it hurt so fucking bad?

“Hey, baby.”

I smile up at Arriana. Closing my book, I move to perch on my knees so we’re eye level. “Hey.” I breathe, running my hands along her sides and resting them on her hips.

A sly smirk lifts the corner of her lips. Glancing at my discarded novel, she bends to snatch it up. “And what do we have here, hmm?” My cheeks flame as I watch her open to the page I left off. As she reads, her brows slide higher up her forehead and her eyes widen. “Well, I…have some questions.”

I shrink back into the couch, wrapping my arms around my knees. Refusing to meet her gaze, I look anywhere but directly at her.

“Is that…are you interested in playing some of this out?” My head shoots up and I stare at her with wide eyes. Huffing a laugh, Arriana sinks into the seat beside me, pulling me into her lap. “I might have different equipment, baby, but you say the word and I’ll make your fantasies come to life.”

I open my mouth to reply, but the words stick in my throat as the room melts away. A scream catches in my throat as I watch Arriana disappear, only to find myself all alone, bound and gagged in a darkened room.

Thrashing against the binds wrapped around my wrists and ankles, I scream into the cloth, desperate to escape this hell I’ve found myself in.

“Fallon. Baby, it’s okay, I’m right here.”

I whip my head around the room, trying to find her in the darkness, but I can’t.

“Arriana.” My cry is muffled by the cloth shoved between my teeth, and no matter how many times I try to free myself, I can’t.

I’m trapped. Alone. And fucking terrified.

Gasping, I shoot upright, a hoarse cry escaping my lips as my consciousness fights for dominance. I blink several times, trying to adjust my eyes to the dark room. With a sense of relief, I lift my arms to find they’re free, the binds of my dream just that. A dream.

Sucking in deep breaths, I work to calm my racing heart. As my breathing evens out, a deep sense of loneliness settles over me, seeping into the deepest parts of my being.

I don’t know if I can keep doing this.

“I don’t know if I’m strong enough.” The thought slips out as a quiet whisper.

Curling up into a ball, I hug my knees to my chest and do something I didn’t think I would ever do again.

I pray.

“Please, just…help me do the right thing.”

My whispered plea goes unanswered as all my prayers have, but I still find myself crying out for help. Begging for someone to listen, because I don’t know what’s right.

When I remember that kiss with Logan, I feel sick, I feel wrong . But when I remember all the moments, all the memories with Arriana, I feel my soul crying out for her.

But does that make it right? Does me needing her more than I need the breath in my lungs, does that make what we had good ? Or does that mean they were right, that I’m wrong, that I’m broken and sinful and destined for hell because of who I love?

My questions whirl in my mind, a tumultuous blend of terror, hope, guilt, and shame. And even still, I get no answer, no divine sign from the almighty. No burning bush or strike of lightning.

I get nothing but an empty bed and an aching soul.

“Okay, spill.” Ava demands, leaning her hip against the counter.

I chew on my lip, looking down at the steaming cup of coffee in my hands. I’m exhausted. After my breakdown last night, I was able to doze off again for a few more hours of restless sleep as my dreams and memories bombarded my subconscious, only serving to further confuse me.

Huffing, Ava pushes off the counter and opens the cupboard. I peek up at her, watching as she stretches up and pulls down a bottle. I raise an eyebrow as she spins around, a conspiratorial grin on her face. “Don’t tell Killian.” She whispers, her smile widening when a small grin of my own pushes up my lips.

Walking toward the island, Ava unscrews the bottle of Irish whiskey before pouring some into my coffee mug with a wink. I giggle, bringing the spiked drink to my lips and swallowing some down. Choking on the harsh burn, I try to keep from spilling the hot liquid all over myself. “Jesus, Ava.” I laugh, shaking my head.

“What?” She asks innocently, turning to pour some of the amber liquid into her own coffee.

I chuckle and take another sip, enjoying the warmth traveling down my chest as I swallow. A few more drinks and I can feel some of the anxiety seep away, replaced by a fuzzy glow, a lightness I haven’t felt since before the wedding.

Ava watches me as she sips her own Irish coffee. “So,” She starts, raising an eyebrow. “Ready to tell me what happened last night?”

I roll my lips, reaching up a hand to adjust my glasses before running my fingers through my hair. “Nothing happened.” I mumble, my face flushing at the lie.

Ava rolls her eyes, scoffing, “Bullshit.” I glance up at her, my eyebrows raised. “Oh, don’t give me that look, babe. You came in practically in tears then ran off.” Leaning over the island, she holds my gaze while reaching out a hand to take my trembling one, stroking my skin with her thumb. “You can tell me anything, you know that right?” I nod, biting my bottom lip. Her lips tick up on one end as she snickers, “I’m not above chopping some balls off if I have to.”

I stare at her with wide eyes before bursting into laughter, the alcohol making us both a little giddy as we fall into giggles.

“Okay, but seriously.” Ava laughs, wiping her finger under her eyes. “Did something happen on the date?”

Staring into her hazel eyes, I gulp down one more drink of liquid courage and nod my head. Ava’s forehead creases, but she doesn’t say anything, giving me the space to gather my thoughts.

“Things were fine. Logan was…nice.” I shrug, chewing on my lip again. “Actually, I kinda had fun.” I admit, guilt eating me up at the admittance.

Ava offers me a small smile, continuing her soothing strokes on my hand.

Taking a deep breath, I press on. “We finished dinner and he drove me here and, um…” I trail off, squeezing my eyes shut.

It wasn’t cheating. We’re not together anymore.

It doesn’t matter how many times I tell myself it, I can’t help how I feel.

“He kissed me.” I whisper, ducking my head and hiding behind my hair.

Ava doesn’t say anything, the room falling to a heavy silence as she processes both my words and reaction. After several long moments, she squeezes my hand, waiting for me to look up before quietly asking, “Did you like it?”

Ava knows. She knows how I felt about her, how I feel about Arriana, how I’ve always felt about members of my same sex. But we’ve never talked about it, not really.

Something about having to form the words, to admit the truth out loud, it’s too much.

“It’s a phase.”

A tear slips down my cheek as I shake my head.

Ava’s eyes soften as she lets go of my hand and swipes away the teardrop. “That’s okay, babe.” She reassures me.

I shake my head again, setting down my mug a little more forcefully than I mean to. Leaping back to avoid the coffee that spilled over the side, I throw my hands up in the air. “Is it though?” I cry, all of my desperate feelings crashing into me, a storm of confusion raging inside.

Ava silently grabs a kitchen towel from its hanger on the island and wipes up the spilled coffee. I watch her clean up my mess and it makes me angry.

It’s my fault.

Gripping my hair at my scalp, I pull hard as I swallow down a frustrated shriek.

Why can’t I be normal?

The thoughts swirl in my head. The desire to be the perfect child, to do the right thing . The need to make everyone else happy.

“But what about me?” I mumble the words out loud. “Wh-why can’t I have what makes me happy?” Looking up at my concerned friend, my voice breaks as I sob, “Why is that so wrong?” What little energy I had left escapes with the question, an deep exhaustion settling into my bones. Sinking my head into my hands, I give into the painful ache and let the tears flow freely down my cheeks.

“Oh, Fallon.” Ava breathes, dropping the towel and coming around to wrap me up in her arms. “What will make you happy?” She asks, squeezing me tight against her.

I hiccup, shaking my head. “It do-doesn’t matter.” I mumble miserably. Because it doesn’t. It never has.

“Hey.” She snaps, holding me out at arms length to level me with a stern look. “It does fucking matter. And whatever it is, we’re going to make it happen. Do you hear me?”

My lips tremble as I nod my head, willing the words to be true. I want so desperately to be happy, to stop this aching emptiness inside of me.

Ava’s expression softens as she returns my nod. “Okay, good.” Rubbing her hands up and down my arms, she insists, “Now, tell me what you want.”

Taking a deep breath, I slowly release it as I feel something click inside of me.

I can’t keep doing this.

The right thing can’t feel this wrong.

The thought feels like an answer. Like I’ve finally gotten a response to my desperate pleas.

The right thing can’t feel this wrong.

I repeat it to myself, my certainty growing. Letting my eyes close, I picture the last time I was happy. A small smile spreads across my face as I relive the memory.

“You are stunning, mi vida .” Arriana hums, circling my waist and pulling me back against her. “How did I get so lucky? ? Qué hice para merecerte ?”

I giggle, trying to finish applying my makeup while being held captive in her arms. “You know I don’t understand a word you say when you speak in Spanish, right?”

“Hmm.” Arriana hums. “ Está bien. Te ese?aré. Tenemos todo el tiempo del mundo .” I roll my eyes at her in the reflection, unable to hide the smile on my face.

Sure, I really don’t understand anything she’s saying to me, but I love when she says it.

“Want to know another promise, baby?”

I giggle again. “My love, I didn’t even know you made me a promise.”

Ignoring me, Arriana gently moves my hair back, leaning to whisper in my ear, “ La próxima boda en la que estaremos es la nuestra, mi bella diosa .”

Blinking open my eyes, I can’t contain the smile that has spread across my face at the memory. I still don’t know what she said to me, but I do know one thing.

I was happy.

So, I open my mouth and voice the thing I want more than I’ve ever wanted anything. More than reality drama, more than books, more than the words themself.

Opening myself up, I finally make the decision to say fuck it to everything and everyone else.

Because this feels right. The way I feel when I think about us.

And that’s what I’m going to go with from now on.

The love that bubbles up at the thought of her.