Page 123 of The Ampersand Effect

She steeled herself, replacing the armor she’d so carefully shed over the past few weeks. She rebuilt her walls in an instant, cutting herself off from the inevitable loss she now felt looming. She had to end things—beforeGrier saw her for the broken disaster she’d tried to disguise over the course of their brief—but substantive—relationship.

She knew better. There was no healing her brokenness. She was just a hodgepodge of razor-edged shards, turned outward like a barbed fence—a defense against anyone who dared to get close. Grier had successfully dismantled a few, but now it was time to put them back.

She couldn’t let Grier end things. She had to do it first—before the hurt of yet another rejection found her.

GRIER—10:51 a.m.

I have a bad feeling. Please tell me I’m

wrong?

She growled—low and wet—from the depths of her soul, from that hollowed place where she was most vulnerable. She had allowed Grier to slink into her life, to convince her there was hope.Hope!And in a matter of moments, that hope had evaporated, taking with it any semblance of a future. It removed Grier entirely.

GRIER - 1 MISSED CALL, 11:02 a.m.

GRIER - 11:05 a.m.

Please don’t shut me out.

GRIER - 11:05 a.m.

We agreed to remember there’s an us at the

end of this, Tobin. Please…

Her hands shook, blurring the screen. Or was that more tears?

No.

No.

She wouldnotcry. She wouldn’t waste any more emotion on the inevitable. She had to push this aside right now; she had a float to build.

And she needed to look busy—because Eddie would call her out. And Tobin knew she didn’t have the stamina to fight her off today. If Eddie tried to pull her aside, she’d collapse.

TOBIN—11:08 a.m.

I’m fine. I’ll call you later. Building the

float.

She knew it was cold. She knew Grier would feel it, too. But it was all she had.

She’d call Grier when she got home. She’d end things. She’d put a definitive stop to today, closing off all the hope she’d amassed in the last several weeks. The perfect family—Grier by her side and a babe in her arms.

What a joke,she scoffed.

Anchor and Harrow were vainly trying to carry a sheet of plywood to the sawhorses. Tobin smiled at Anchor but didn’t say anything. The fewer words she had to speak right now, the better. Harrow approached her, a wary cadence to her gait. Quietly, she whispered, “Are you sure about this, T?”

“I’m fine. Let’s just get it over with.” Tobin slid her aviators in place. At least she could hide her sadness behind the lenses for a while.

For the next hour she measured, sawed, and hammered the hell out of any nail the crew put in front of her. The float came together quickly: a Snoopy-style doghouse anchored one end of the trailer, the Bell 206 perched at the other, and the puppy pen from the farmer’s market nestled between them. When Anchor hammered the “Ruffs and Rescuers” sign into place on the side of the doghouse, the group stepped back to admire their work.

Tobin was exhausted. She’d thrown every ounce of sorrow into the physical labor of the afternoon, and her body bent from the effort. She joined Harrow and Eddie at a small cooler. Harrow still wore a look of concern, but it was softer now—a little brighter. She smiled tentatively, and Tobin was a little shocked to find that it wasn’t all that hard to smile back. It even felt genuine—if slightly restrained.

Eddie watched her from the periphery. Arms crossed, face unreadable, she said in a low, discreet voice, “I hope you were able to settle whatever score all that scowling was about.”

Tobin deepened her scowl but appreciated Eddie’s indirectness. She grunted in response, knowing Eddie wouldn’t push. Not yet. She’d have to talk to her eventually, but they both knew it would go better when Tobin was ready.