Pieces of a Mending Heart (25 page)

             
“Unless it’s Jack the Ripper’s zombie, rising from the grave to attack the-” Sorren says, but is interrupted by Tristan.

             
“Shut up, Sorren. That’s not funny,” he says, voice dropping a few tones in seriousness.

             
Sorren slams her palm on the table and stands dramatically. “Jesus, Tristan! When did you become her freakin’ body guard? I was just joking, okay? Lighten up and stop being an asshole,” she yells.

             
An extraordinarily uncomfortable silence fills the room and I wish I was being consumed by quick-sand or taken away by an extra-large bird… Anything to escape this seriously awkward moment.

             
“You’re so insensitive! Can you not tell when someone’s upset? All you think about is yourself! That hasn’t changed one bit!” Tristan says and the venom in his voice shocks me.

             
“
I’m
insensitive?! Where were you for the past two and a half years, Tristan? When I needed you, where were you?”

             
“Are you calling me selfish? Do you seriously think I was in any position to help
you
? You completely deserted me when Sky died, and you know it,” raw emotion seeps into his voice, causing it to shake.

             
Sorren’s eyes fill with tears that don’t spill over, but glisten in her eyes like dew on a rose petal. “How was
I
supposed to know how to help you? Do you not remember the things you did before they sent you away? Do you not remember who you became?”

             
“I sent you a letter the moment I arrived at John Adam’s. I had already changed, Sorren. You didn’t even let me tell you that,” Tristan says.

             
I want to sink into the floor. The tension between the two of them has been growing since the moment Sorren walked in the door tonight, but I wasn’t anticipating being present when they hashed it out.

             
“A person doesn’t change in a week, Tristan. You’re claiming you turned your life around in one week? You were a mess! You felt
nothing
! You were a shell. The only emotion you ever showed at all was hatred, and even that was weak at best.
You can’t just wake up one morning and shout ‘Hallelujah’ to the heavens and be healed! That’s impossible, and you’re an idiot if you believe that.
”

             
That sparks a thought in me; is that when Tristan’s punishment started? Even before he tried killing himself? I wonder what God’s plan is. What the purpose of all this was. Surely there’s a reason things happened the way they did. I don’t have time to ponder these new thoughts, because I hear my name spewed from Sorren’s mouth.

             
“If you’ve changed as much as you claim to have, as much as you’re fooling everyone into believing, then why do you spend every waking moment with her?” I’m shocked to hear her vituperation continue. “She’s not me, Tristan. What happened to me? You didn’t even tell me you were back in town!”

             
By now, Sorren’s face is red
and portrays a wide range of emotions
. I’m not sure whether anger, frustration, sadness or confusion sent her over the edge, but maybe it’s a combination of
them all.
I know what it’s like to feel things amplified, and I am unable to be angry at her for bringing me into this conversation.

             
“Don’t bring Katie into this, Sorena! This is about you and me, not me and Katie. What we do is none of your business,” Tristan says, trying to diffuse the situation but failing miserably.

             
Sorren scoffs and continues. “You were always my business. You’ve known her, what… a month? At most? That’s pathetic! You’ve known me since birth and you’ve never looked at me the way you look at her.”

             
A tiny crinkle forms in Tristan’s forehead, one I’ve only seen a handful of times when he’s thinking particularly hard about something. I back away a little, looking to give them more space, but it seems like they’ve both forgotten I am here.

             
“Are you serious? You’re really going there?” Tristan asks, sounding annoyed.

             
“Of course! You agreed to give it a try, Tristan!” Sorren exclaims, stepping from around the table to stand right in front of the red-faced blonde haired boy.

             
“We were sixteen! I’m not the same person you thought you loved. Real love doesn’t exist when you’re fifteen and sixteen years old, Sorren!”

             
Another piece of the puzzle clicks together and my mouth pops open. In the moments I’ve heard Sorren talk about Tristan, she’s always used a softer, sweeter tone than she usually
speaks in. When she laid her hand on his arm until he pulled away. When she couldn’t even look at him in the parking lot. When she just complained about us being too affectionate in her presence.
             

             
Sorren is in love with Tristan. But not my Tristan; not the good,
nurturing
, soul-mate Tristan God sent just for me. She loves the boy she thought she knew. The boy who thought he knew himself until tragedy struck and he lost everything he once had. The boy she claims was never there for her.

             
“It doesn’t matter what you think! I refuse to just sit here and act like this,” she gestures to me and back to Tristan, “doesn’t bother me! I’ve waited for you to come back to me for two years, hoping you had found yourself again! And now that you have, you don’t even have the decency to set me straight?”

             
Tristan steps away from an approaching Sorren who looks like she’s about to smack him. “You want me to set you straight?” Sorren nods. “Okay then. I’ll just say it then. I’m in love with Katie. I’ve known her for two years. She and I shared letters; letters that helped me heal and become who I am now. So you cannot tell me that I don’t know her like I know you. It takes a special type of person to bring someone out from the dark, and Katie
did that for me when you weren’t here to do it
.”

             
Sorren slaps Tristan in the face before theatrically departing from the room. A moment later, the front door slams with enough force to shake the kitchen floor. We remain silent for a moment, both at a loss of words. I might have just lost the only friend I really made here; my ally and the person I have a strange connection with. Something in my heart tells me that things will work out for the best and not to fret, but the sting of her words sends bolts of sadness to my chest.

             
Arms wrap around me, comforting me in their embrace. Our breaths are in sync and his body presses mine against the counter. I don’t pull apart; I just stand there with my hands trapped against his chest and ear pressed to his heart-
my
heart- beating in the silence.

             
“I’m sorry,” is all he says.

             
He shouldn’t feel bad, and none of this is his fault, but the words help me relax. We do nothing; only hold each other until a crack of thunder shakes the house. Rain starts pounding on the roof in rhythmic taps, adding a very natural soundtrack to the atmosphere. Tristan and I end up curled on the couch as the sounds of thunder and rain lull us into sleep.

             
I awake gasping, shaking from head to toe with the sound of my scream echoing off the walls. It takes me a moment to come back to reality, but when I see the comforting walls of my
bedroom, I take a calming breath. I remember falling asleep on the couch, so Tristan must have carried me to bed. A knock on my door makes me jump.
             

             
“Hi, baby. You okay?” my aunt asks, wearing her sleep clothes and glasses. She looks exhausted.

             
My heart still pounds and my throat is so dry I can’t speak, but I nod. I don’t even remember what the dream was about, but it terrified me. My aunt leaves the doorway but the kitchen light flicks on seconds later and the sound of the water running makes me lick my dry lips.

             
“Here you go,” says Rachel’s sweet voice as she sits on my bed.

             
I feel like a child, but the sensation is new. The feeling of being loved and looked after and protected is foreign to me, and warmth drives away my terror. My aunt strokes my hair, calming me with her mere presence. I look at the scene in the mirror across from my bed, feeling like I’m watching a film. This is what a mother should do. This is who a mother should be. It makes me sad knowing that women like my Aunt Rachel don’t have children but people like my parents do. My parents, who are so deranged they don’t even deserve the title.

             
“Why don’t you have kids?” I ask, breathless from gulping my water.

             
She smiles a sad smile that adds years to her youthful face. “I can’t. I’m sterile. But there’re plenty of kids out there who could use someone to love them, and I’d happily oblige. Just because I didn’t birth them doesn’t mean I can’t love them the same way I would love my own child,” she says, kissing my forehead.

             
I wonder if I should be embarrassed; I’m a senior in high school for goodness sakes! I shouldn’t enjoy being babied by my aunt. However, I’ve never been one for traditional beliefs, and I soak up her attention like a sponge.

             
“Is there anything you want to talk about?” she asks, getting more comfortable on my bed.

             
“Did you know? About my father?” I ask, darkness creeping into my voice with every word.

             
She looks confused. “You’ve gotta be a little more specific than that, sweetie.”

             
“Did you know he hurt us?” I clarify, speaking for my mother, brother and myself.

             
A clouded look enters her eyes at my question and I get the distinct feeling that she doesn’t want to answer. “Not until your mom sent you here.”

             
Confusion must be splashed across my face because my aunt elaborates. “You really think your mom wanted to send you away? That she didn’t think she could help you more than I can?”

             
“Then why did she send David away?” I ask, still slightly unsure.

             
“David needs help, honey. He isn’t going to heal by himself. Your mom told me that from the moment you woke up in that hospital after your… accident, that there was a light in your eyes that only came with sanity and understanding. She said you finally
felt
again; that you showed emotions again. Your brother is not in a good place right now, Katherine. He needs professional help.”

             
My mother sent me here to protect me. The thought makes tears spring to my eyes, but I hold them back. I am so fed up with this crying business.

             
“It’s okay to cry, Katie. No one is expecting you to be strong all the time.”

             
I clench my teeth and force the tears back, refusing to let things I can’t change break me. There’s no use dwelling over
the bad. The point of life is to make the best of things and to do what God expects us to do: help others, try to forgive, and be the best we can be. However, my heart is still to broken to fully forgive. I know that, with God’s guiding hand, I can eventually become the full, complete person he said I will be. But for now, my heart is still mending. For now, there are still missing pieces.

Chapter 13

                       The next morning, I awake to a breeze blowing across my face. It’s chilly enough to raise goose-bumps on my skin and all I want to do is burrow deeper under the covers. A hand gently touches my shoulder and I would have been terrified had I not recognized the feeling that accompanies Tristan whenever he comes near me.

                     “Good morning, beautiful. I heard you had a rough night. It’s earlier than usual, but why don’t you get up and we’ll go get coffee?” he asks in a sweet voice that reminds me of how he speaks to Dino. I smile.

           He moves in to kiss me, making me move away. His face is so shocked I can’t help but release a tiny giggle. I want to brush my teeth before he kisses me. Wouldn’t want to scare him away.

          “You’ve got thirty minutes before I drag you to my truck, ready or not!” he calls as he walks out of the room. Rachel must already be gone for work; her schedule is so unpredictable.

I decided to shower, thinking the hot water would help me relax my nerves, which are on edge thanks to the revelations from the night before. The water works wonders on my skin, which was pale when I woke up but is now a healthy looking rose color. My eyes look especially green today, so
I
apply some mascara to intensify their already bright color. It isn’t often my eyes are this shade of green, so I intend to make the most of it.