Page 1 of Tangled Hearts (Mended Hearts #4)

Nic

I t’s strange watching everything be stripped away from your childhood home.

The couch you spent hours on while watching movies with your mom, the dining table you were sung happy birthday at, the pots and pans you used while learning to cook as a teenager because your mom was a firm believer that cooking was a life skill, and not a woman skill.

Even stranger is seeing photos disappear off the walls one by one. It’s almost like watching an entire life dissipate into nothing. Obviously, it’s not. My life was still mine. My childhood was still mine. The memories still live within me.

Everything else, though? It’s gone.

And maybe that’s for the best.

“I just need to finish clearing out the room,” Leo says, dragging me out of my thoughts.

I take in his features. The button nose I used to kiss, his blonde hair and bright blue eyes—his cheekbones, high and sharp but somehow still soft.

The man I once loved is nowhere to be found in the lines of his face.

This man is different somehow, indifference wrapped in casual loathing.

A sore spot in my heart that I’m not sure will ever heal.

“Thanks,” I mumble, turning my gaze away from him.

“I’m sorry it ended up like this.”

Before I can say anything, he’s leaving the room. Oddly enough, I believe he means that. In some ways. In his own way, maybe. His apologies mean nothing to me. Not really. There’s no coming back from what he did. Not that he wants to.

Fuck. Not that I want to. It’s just a lot of change all at once. Like anything, it’ll be an adjustment. But that’s alright. I’m nothing if not resilient.

I glance around the empty living room. The only reason I came back here today was for Leo to get the rest of his things.

The new buyers of my late mother’s house will get the keys tomorrow.

I probably could have trusted Leo here alone.

Hell, he lived here with me for two years during Mom’s decline and then for the few short months after.

Of course, that was before everything went to shit, and now it doesn’t feel right to have him without me.

Leo walks into the room, boxes stacked in his arms. “These are the last two.” Like before, he doesn’t wait for a response, simply walks past me, and goes out the front door.

There’s the slam of a car door, and then another.

Confused, I sit up straighter and look out the window.

Silas is here too. Perfect. Si’s car is parked behind Leo’s, and I barely resist the urge to roll my eyes.

Si comes around the front of the car, not paying any attention to his surroundings as he wraps an arm around Leo’s waist and pulls him in for a lingering kiss.

My stomach sours as I force my gaze away. There has to be a rule about your ex-childhood best friend not kissing your ex-fiancé in the driveway of your dead mom’s house, right ?

Like, maybe not, but a little decorum would be nice.

It’s not that I’m jealous. Not really, and if I’m being honest with myself, things with Leo hadn’t been good for a while.

Partly because Mom was sick, but partly because we weren’t what the other needed.

We hadn’t been for a while. Maybe it started that way, but at some point it shifted.

Turned us into something ugly and hateful, turned me into something ugly and hateful.

I think it’s probably telling that I was more upset about losing Silas than Leo.

But I do have some level of self-respect.

I couldn’t very well continue to be friends with the man after walking in on him fucking my fiancé.

Not that I didn’t try. The first time. Apparently, some people—like me—have to walk in on it twice to really get the memo.

The front door swings open and my eyes fly up to Leo and Silas, standing side by side, their hands intertwined.

I climb to my feet. “You said everything was out?”

Leo nods. He’s safer to look at than Silas. Mostly because I don’t understand how Si could do what he did to me. After almost twenty years of friendship. Some things I’ll never get answers to, I’m sure. “It’s all gone. Are you going to be okay?”

I can’t stop the bitter laugh that spills from me. “Ironic coming from you, don’t you think?”

Leo’s face turns beet-red and Silas steps in front of him, leveling me with a glare. “You don’t have to be a dick, Nic.”

“Well, you didn’t have to stick your dick in the man I loved, either, so it looks like we’re both doing things we don’t have to do, eh?”

Guilt flashes in Si’s eyes, but he says nothing. Probably because he knows there’s nothing he can say. Nothing he can do to right his wrong. I sigh heavily. I hate this. “I’m going to be fine,” I say softly. “I’m about to load down the Jeep and hit the road. ”

“Where are you going?” Leo asks quietly, probably afraid I’m going to snap at him again. I won’t. There are a lot of things he did wrong. A lot I did wrong too. But I’m sick and fucking tired of letting him make me into someone I’m not.

“Across the country.”

It’s really none of their business, and when I don’t go into more details, Silas sighs. “I really am sorry.”

He’s only said it about twenty-five times. It didn’t matter the first time, and it doesn’t matter now. “I’m sure you are.”

This time there’s no glare. I wouldn’t care if there was. I just need to get out of this fucking house, to run from the memories. Both good and bad. Try to start something new for myself, and I’m really hoping my something new is located in a small town in Montana.

No one—not even Silas and Leo—knows I did an ancestry test that led me to find out I have an older brother.

I know nothing about him. Well, I know his age, his hometown, and that his last name is not the same as mine.

I don’t know what he’s like, or if he wants to see me, or if he has room for me in his life or his family.

All I know is that I’m kept up every night with thoughts of what could be, and I’m ready to find out. Or at least try.

When my feet carry me to the front door so I can leave, Silas gets a hopeful expression on his face and his arms come up like he’s going to hug me.

I hold a hand up. If he touches me, I’m going to unravel, and I can’t have that.

I don’t need his comfort. Not anymore. I’m not sure why he’d assume I’d even want it after what he did.

“I hope the two of you have many happy years together.”

I slip past them and out the door, climbing into my Jeep without another word and back out of the driveway. I keep my eyes focused on the road, even though I want nothing more than to lift my gaze to the rearview mirror .

I’m moving forward now, and nothing good will come from trying to catch another glimpse of my past.

Driving across the country is more peaceful than I thought it would be. I’ve never traveled much. Not that I didn’t want to. I just never really had any time to go anywhere. First, I was busy in school and trying to get my feet under me with work, and then Mom got sick. And that was that.

Her dementia rocked the core of who I thought I was, changing me and molding me into someone else. I took care of her—moved out of my apartment and back home so she wouldn’t be alone.

I helped her with day-to-day tasks, and when she got worse and disappeared before my very eyes, I took care of her then too.

Through it all. I took care of her when she didn’t know who I was, when she couldn’t remember my name or why she loved me.

And I took care of her when she didn’t even remember that she did love me.

When I was no more than a strange man in her house, feeding her and helping her shower.

Those days were the worst.

But now they’re over, and she’s at peace. I’m not sure if I believe in a higher power or heaven or hell, but I’d like to think that wherever she is, she’s happy and free. No longer confused and scared or in pain. That’s all I want. If that’s heaven? Well then, maybe I’m a believer after all.

I pull into the hotel. I’m in a small town on the border of Wyoming and Montana.

It’s quiet and seems mostly empty, but it’s my last stop.

If I let myself think too hard about what tomorrow will bring, I’ll convince myself this was a stupid idea.

Maybe it was. But I have to believe it’s not.

Just like I have to believe Mom is free.

Maybe I can be free too.

I get checked in and collapse onto the bed. I don’t even bother taking my shoes off, although I probably should. If for no other reason than my feet hurt. Makes not a damn bit of sense considering all I’ve done is drive for days on end, but hey, life doesn’t make sense.

I close my eyes and try to relax.

I’m almost asleep when my phone buzzes. I pop my eyes open, confused about who would be texting me.

Leo

Are you alright? We haven’t heard from you.

And why would they? I really don’t understand. Sure, Leo told me I was distancing myself. That I had become unapproachable and that he was lonely. And fuck, maybe he was.

I run a hand through my hair in frustration.

Maybe I did everything wrong. Maybe I should have prioritized him better.

I did, when Mom first got sick. I balanced her care with being what he deserved, but then she got worse.

It happened so fast, and I was barely keeping my head above water.

He and Si kept urging me to put her in a home, but I couldn’t do that.

She spent her entire life taking care of me. There wasn’t a chance in hell I was leaving her alone or in some home. No. I don’t have any regrets about that at all. I wouldn’t change it for the world.

My heart gives a heavy pang at all the loss I’ve endured in the last couple of months.

In my weaker moments, I wish I could forgive Silas.

I want to tell him about the fucked-up mess in my head, how much I miss my mom, and how hard my breakup was on me.

But you can’t exactly have that conversation with the man who caused said breakup and fucked-up head mess to begin with.

From the time I was eight years old, and he sat down beside me on the playground asking to be my friend, I’ve told him everything. Not being able to do that anymore is strange. Probably more strange, even, than not having Leo in bed with me at night.

I stare at the message and huff at myself in irritation.

Me

I’m fine.

Without waiting for a response, I power my phone off and toss it to the nightstand. Sleep pulls me under in no time.

I wake with the sun and get back on the road. I have about eight hours of driving today, and then I’ll be at my destination. I’m not sure what I’m going to do when I’m there, but I’ve already booked a room in the town’s singular hotel.

I turn up the radio and roll the windows down, blaring music as I let the crisp spring air whip through my hair. It’s nice. It feels fitting too. That I’m driving to what, I hope, is the start of a new life just as the first breath of spring is filling the air.

By the time I’m halfway to the hotel, I’m doubting the wisdom of leaving everything I know and driving across the country to meet a brother who may or may not want anything to do with me.

Maybe there’s a reason he hasn’t reached out to me.

I’ve been telling myself that he doesn’t know about me, but maybe he does.

And if he does, then why hasn’t he ever tried to contact me ?

My stomach twists, and I push those thoughts away. They aren’t going to do me any good.

Even if this whole thing turns out to be a bust, between the proceeds from selling Mom’s house and her life insurance payout padding my bank account, I can afford to take time for myself.

Home will never be home again. Not with Mom gone.

Not with Silas and Leo together. Not with the tattered pieces of my heart still scattered everywhere.

No, I need a fresh start, and even if it’s not here, I’ll find it.

I stop at the hotel long enough to shower and change clothes, then I’m plugging an address into my phone and hitting the road again. My stomach is a mess, my heart pounding like crazy.

I’m nervous as hell, but I’m excited too. Ready. To either be welcomed or turned away. I know both are a possibility, and I’m ready to face either of them.

I pull up in front of a single-story brick home, and my GPS informs me that I’ve arrived at my destination.

There’s a trampoline in the yard on the left side of the house, bicycles tipped sideways on the grass in the front yard, and what looks like chalk drawings on the sidewalk leading to the front door.

My heart lurches. My brother has kids?

I climb out of my vehicle in a daze, my feet carrying me to the front porch.

I knock on the door, my heart lodged in my throat.

I can hear kids yelling. I can’t make out any words, but it sounds chaotic and fun. Like they’re screaming and running and chasing each other. I wonder if they know how lucky they are .

I’m listening intently, trying to see what I can pick out, when the door swings open.

The man who opens the door is shorter than me, with a shock of wavy brown hair, so much like my own that it makes my chest ache.

His bright-green eyes are lined in black, and he flashes me a smile. “Hello. Can I help you?”

I’m frozen for a second, my voice caught in my throat, my heart trapped right along with it.

“I, um—I’m Nic.” My voice sounds a little weak.

His eyebrows draw together in confusion.

“Nic Adler,” I say, trying to steady it.

“I’m looking for my brother.” I’m pretty sure this man is my brother, but I don’t want to presume. “His name is Holden Foster.”