Page 79 of Shattered

“I don’t know. I’m a doctor. I fix bodies. I don’t know how to fix this.”

We sat in silence, drinking scotch that tasted like failure.

“She blames me,” I said finally—the words I’d been holding inside for two weeks. “Delia. She blames me—for being with her when Elena fell.”

“That’s not fair to you.”

“Maybe. But it’s how she feels.” I stared into my glass. “She won’t say it, but I can see it every time she looks at me.”

“It’s not your fault her mother fell.”

“I know that. You know that. But Delia doesn’t know that. Or she knows it logically, but emotionally she’s still stuck.” I finished my scotch. Poured more. “She was happy. We were happy. And then her whole world exploded. So now being happy equals betrayal in her mind. And I equal being happy. So I equal betrayal.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“Wait. What else can I do?”

Daniel looked at me, then took a long sip.

“You really love her.”

“Yes.”

“What if she’s never ready?”

The corners of my lips twitched sardonically. “Then I guess I’ll wait forever,” I said.

I’d spent seventeen years wanting to love her. I’d wait however long it took for her to break out of it.

Delia wasn’t my mother. She was strong. Fierce.

The sea wouldn’t hold her forever. It was only a matter of time before she swam back to the surface.

CHAPTER 17

Delia

His texts came every day.Sometimes twice a day.

Axel

Thinking of you.

I’m here when you’re ready.

I read them. Every single one. Then I put my phone face down and hated myself a little more.

Because I was hurting him. I knew I was hurting him. And the worst part was I couldn’t stop.

The guilt had teeth. It lived in my chest and fed on every memory of happiness.

I painted nothing. The canvases stared at me accusingly from where they leaned against the walls. I’d tried once, about two weeks ago. Had picked up a brush, squeezed out paint, stood in front of a blank canvas.

My hand wouldn’t move. My brain wouldn’t connect to my fingers. I’d stood there for an hour before giving up and going back to the couch.

That’s where I spent most of my time. Lying on the couch staring at the ceiling, surrounded by the faint smell of Axel’scologne. Even if I couldn’t bring myself to see him, I could allow myself this much.

Maria’s call came on a Thursday morning.