Beautifully Shattered (The Beautifully Series Book 1) (2 page)

I grab my phone to see if any of the
guys have texted. Nope. I’ve been sitting here for almost an hour
staring into space. Fantastic. I can’t wait here and do nothing. I
become lost in my thoughts and that’s
never
good. I force myself off the couch and change into workout clothes.
Hopefully a few miles on the treadmill will chase this unnerving
feeling out of my gut. I send Logan a quick text while I press the L
button in the elevator.

Me:
Gonna hit the gym. Bringing my phone. Call when you guys
are leaving the office. Love you.

I don’t bother to put away my
phone. No matter what he is doing, Logan will always respond to me.
Always. Best brother award goes to him.

Logan:
No problem. You might get a full hour in. This is
taking longer than I expected or I would have waited until tomorrow
to handle it. Love you too baby girl.

Logan:
Oh and don’t forget to do weights too not just
cardio.

I roll my eyes. Of course my
meathead brother would remind me to do weights. He is such a body
builder.

Me:
I understand your need to take over the world so take your
time. Just give me a heads up so I can shower.

I tiptoe through the
lobby, hating how my footsteps echo on the marble floor. I look down
and avoid anyone I pass. I don’t have the energy to smile and nod.
Not today. Opening the glass doors to the gym, I ignore the Olympic
size pool I can see from the entrance. It’s impossible to miss with
the glass walls on one side. The pillars have vines wrapped around
them, giving it the appearance of a magical place. I’ve never
stepped in there even though it beckons me. From here, I know I’ll
secretly love the decor, though, because it reminds me of the Greek
Gods. Of him.

I head straight to the
treadmill to clear my mind. I still don’t understand the point of
continuing this stupid, futile charade of seeing Olivia White every
other Tuesday afternoon. I think the whole idea is crazy. Nothing is
going to change. I don’t want it to change. I don’t want to move
on. I can’t. I need to remember what I did, who we lost.

I deserve to suffer
unbelievable pain because of my actions. I am barely able to live now
and what Liv wants seems impossible. That little voice in the back of
my head thinks differently, though.
I
can do it. I can learn how to live again. I can have more. I want—

Nope, I shove that
thought in the furthest part of my mind along with all the useless
ones.

After a quick warm-up
on the treadmill, I increase the speed. I focus on the sound of my
feet hitting the belt with each step. I control my breathing the way
my brother hammered into me at a young age when I got serious about
working out. I wanted to strengthen my muscles for swimming. I spent
hours upon hours training daily, never obtaining enough sleep. A
small trail of sweat drips off my forehead and lands on the belt. My
surroundings start to disappear as I replay today’s therapy session
in my head.

“Adalynn, what do you
think?”

I glance up from my
hands and see Liv staring at me. I can tell from her disturbed
expression this isn’t the first time she’s attempted to jostle me
out of my thoughts.

“What’s the
question? Sorry, Liv, I either stopped paying attention the moment I
walked in, or the moment you brought up my dead parents and dead
sister.”

I gawk at Liv,
mortified. I can’t believe I actually said that out loud. I swear
under my breath. “Sorry, Liv, I’m just distracted today.”

“Addie, you and I
both know that I am used to your . . .” She pauses and I decide to
help her out.

“Unique sense of
humor?” I joke as I collect my long brown hair into a messy bun.

I wish that I took the
time to gather my waves into a nice updo like she has done with her
honey hair. She always looks so regal, something that I aspire to be.
Even in a simple pair of black jeans, I carry myself as if I don’t
have a care in the world. I refuse to let anyone see me as the broken
twenty-four year old that I am.

“Let’s go with
that. I’m used to your unique sense of humor by now. You can’t
offend me. I want you to speak your mind. If you need sarcasm to do
that, then by all means, just don’t shut me out, especially today
of all days.”

Liv is my favorite
therapist out of all of them. She always talks to me like I’m a
human being, not just someone she has to focus on for an hour to get
paid. I respect her as a person, but I still hate that she’s trying
to encourage me to talk about them today. Although I was expecting
it; after all it is the anniversary of their deaths. May 21, my
birthday.

“Okay, I’m paying
attention now. What was the question?”

I know the second the
words leave my mouth I’m going to regret it. I should have just
continued to tune her out until our session ended. My leg bounces up
and down, a nervous habit of mine, when I notice the look she’s
giving me. It’s the one that tells me I’m not going to take it
well, but she’s going to say it anyways.

“I know discussing
your family is extremely difficult, especially today. You can talk
about them here, to me.” She pauses. “You think you don’t want
to be here.” I manage to give a light nod. She is right after all.
I don’t want to be here.

My gaze wanders to the
panoramic window behind her like it usually does whenever she exposes
my past. I can never seem to hold her gaze. Her thoughtful eyes are
more knowing then I would like. I watch the outside world as she
studies me. I know she’s waiting until she has my undivided
attention before she speaks. I sigh loudly before turning my
unwilling violet eyes back to her hazel ones.

“You’re wrong. You
want to be here as much as your brother wants you here. There’s a
point to this. I want to help you. We can sit here silently the
entire time or we can talk. It’s up to you, Adalynn.”

I know I shouldn’t
ask, but the words fall out of my mouth before I can stop them. “How
are you so sure I want to be here, Liv?”

“You still come,
don’t you? You can walk out at any second, but you don’t. You
continue to show up for every appointment. Even though you fight with
yourself, you still stay until the session is over. You don’t stay
because of your brother. You stay because deep down you want to
overcome your past, and that scares you.”

Olivia sees the wheels
turning in my head. She waits for me to patiently digest what she’s
saying. I study my hands again. There’s no point in arguing with
her. As much as I hate to admit it, she’s right. It is scary. I
don’t think I can move forward, I don’t think I deserve it. What
if I fail and let everyone down again?

“Some people feel
anger towards their family members because they’re furious that
they left. It’s okay to be angry with them, Addie. Whatever you
feel is okay. You need to let it out or it will consume you. If you
don’t feel like you can talk to me, then talk to anyone you feel
comfortable with. Little by little, you need to open up or you will
never be able to move forward with your life.”

I bite my lip so hard
it bleeds. I focus on that pain then the emptiness inside of me. The
little bite isn’t enough so I dig my nails into my palms. Noticing
the blood, I slowly relax my hand. I interlace my fingers together so
that Liv doesn’t see. I stare at the tiny trail of blood that
barely shows. It doesn’t take away the emptiness. I need more.

“I am angry. They
died and I didn’t. I’m angry that my world stopped that night and
nobody noticed. All night I thought someone would see us, that
someone would help us, but nobody stopped. Everyone kept driving. So,
yes, I am angry, Liv. My world sank into the darkness and everyone
else went on with their lives while the most important people in my
life were dying beside me. I was helpless, unable to do anything but
. . .”

Words leave me. I can’t
finish that thought. It’s too much. Too painful.

The session drags on.
Liv continues to demonstrate patience. Towards the end of it, Liv
straightens her shoulders as if preparing for battle.

“I need you to start
living your life. Go out. Meet new people, even take a vacation. Just
live without thinking about the past and how you shouldn’t be
having fun because they’re gone, as you put it earlier. The past is
just that, the past. You can’t change it; no matter how much you
wish you could.”

My thoughts are
anywhere but in this gym while I run on the treadmill. I play
everything that Liv said on a continuous wheel in my head. It still
seems surreal that she thinks I can go a month without seeing her,
that I am ready to progress.

I have my doubts. My
mind is going in circles. Suddenly I realize that I am sprinting and
coming up on my ninth mile. I try to focus on the panel, but my
vision has blurred. While chugging my water, I press the down button
to slow my pace. As soon as I set my water down in the cup holder and
reach for my towel, I’m seeing spots. The world tilts. Blindly I
grope for the string to pull the emergency stop. Everything goes
black before I hit the still moving track.

When I come to, I’m
laying on the floor next to an unbelievably attractive man who’s
leaning over to get a clear view of my face. His lips are moving, but
all I hear is a loud ringing noise. My head hurts. I try to process
what other body parts hurt, but all I can focus on is that it seems
like someone took a sledgehammer to my head. I attempt to move and
pain shoots up my ankle.

I breathe through the
pain. Strong hands squeeze my shoulders. The hot guy is still
talking. I can’t understand what he’s saying, or why he’s
bending over me. He looks so edible, I end up staring into his dark
blue eyes. They remind me of the ocean and a peaceful calm takes over
me, but it’s short-lived when the pain comes back with a vengeance.
Once the pain subsides to a more manageable level, I can focus on his
words.

“Can you hear me?
What’s your name? Do you know where you are?” Concern is evident
in his voice.

He’s speaking slowly
for my benefit. I struggle to sit up, but he presses his strong hands
on my shoulders. Mr. Edible smirks at me.

“No you don’t,
sweetie. Stay still until I know you’re okay. Can you tell me your
name? Do you know where you are?”

The sudden desert that
has taken residence in my throat makes speaking impossible. Mr.
Edible lifts my head and tilts a cold water bottle to my dry lips.
When he starts to pull it away, I grab it and gulp half of the water
down.

“You should take sips
right now.”

Wiping my mouth with
the back of my hand, I roll my eyes. “Oh yeah, why’s that?”

“If you have a
concussion, you could throw up,” he says.

Today is just not my
day. Of course I would be the one to hurt myself on a treadmill and
attract a cocky Good Samaritan.

“Adalynn,” I say in
a calm voice, answering his question from earlier.

He raises an eyebrow
expectantly. Right . . . he asked two questions. He couldn’t just
walk away and leave me here. I find it hard to believe that he would
be able to turn his back on someone needing help. There’s something
about him that screams Mr. Good-Guy.

The light bulb goes
off.

“At the gym.” Who
has the smug smile now, Mr. Edible?

Gazing into his eyes,
I’m aware I’m not fooling him with my casual act. I also know
from previous experiences that I need to stay calm so I can talk him
down from doing something rash like calling 911. I need to extinguish
this situation so I can make it back to my apartment before the guys
return. I’ll pretend like everything is fine and go to the doctor
tomorrow. Ha, who am I kidding! I’m not going to the doctor
tomorrow. I can’t remember the last time I voluntarily went for a
check up.

“How are you
feeling?” he ask as he interrupts my thinking process. “You were
out for a couple of minutes. Your forehead’s still bleeding, not as
bad though.” Pausing, he moves so he can examine my leg. As he
touches my ankle, I wince. “You may have a sprain. You’ll need an
X-ray to be sure.”