Chapter 65

Iwas frozen, stuck on the living room floor in a mess of tears and broken coffee mug pieces. My hands shook violently as I tried to collect them. They kept falling. Or I kept dropping them.

I shouldn’t have thrown them in the first place. I was supposed to donate them—I wanted to donate them. What was the point in donating coffee mugs if they weren’t the right amount to make a set?

I shouldn’t have thrown them. A sob clawed its way out of my chest. I shouldn’t have thrown the stupid cups.

“Ginny?” The door slammed shut as Nolan let himself in. I couldn’t move. “Where are—hey! Hey! It’s okay.”

Tears made it impossible to see him as I tried to gather all the stupid little pieces again.

“Hey,” he said. His hands covered mine. “Talk to me, Ginny.”

“They’re broken,” I whispered, dragging in another painful breath. “They’re broken, and I can’t fix them. I can’t fix the pieces, Nolan. They’re broken. And the pieces are everywhere. I can’t fix the broken pieces, Nolan. They’re broken, and they don’t deserve to be broken. The pieces are everywhere, and I can’t fix them. I don’t know how to fix them, Nolan! How do I fix them? How do I fix them, Nolan? How do I fix the cups?”

I had no control over the word vomit spilling out of me. Panic clashed with a slew of emotions I had no hope of understanding.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Nolan replied, his voice gentle. His fingers tightened around mine. “I’ll get rid of the cups.”

“We can’t get rid of the cups!” I rushed to say. My sobs grew worse, wracking my whole body as I tried to gulp down air. “They’re supposed to go together, Nolan. They’re a set! They need to be together, and now they’re just broken and can’t be fixed and—”

“Breathe, Ginny,” he interrupted. Carefully, as if I were fragile, he guided me closer and hugged me tight. I gave in and clung to him, crying pathetically. “It’s okay. We’ll fix it, okay? We’ll find a way to fix it.”

I didn’t believe him. There were too many broken pieces everywhere—too much damage done.