A Million Shattered Pieces

Chapter Thirty-Six

"Healing is not linear."

May nineteenth. Prom night. Also, the mark of a month since Brock had tried to take his life. I tried to force a smile when my mother urged me to start preparing for the night at two in the afternoon, but my heart just wasn't in it.

I sat in front of my dresser, watching my mom do my hair and makeup. She curled it, placing it in a messy, loose updo. A few curls fell on either side of my face. She told me to smile, and it looked like I was in pain when I attempted to grin.

"Claire, it looks like you're going to a funeral. What's wrong?"

Sighing, I stared at my reflection. "He's going to be there. We're going to be sitting beside each other. How am I supposed to deal with that?"

My mother set down the eyeshadow brush she'd been using. "It will be fine. Brock looked happy last night. Is he—are things better for him now?"

"I don't know, Mom. We aren't exactly best buddies right now."

"Well, you can't avoid him, Claire. I know this is hard for you, but think about how he must feel. You both have gone through a lot the past month." She picked up the brush and started to work on my makeup again. "Besides, everyone can see that he still likes you."

I snorted. "It's not like he tries to hide that."

"Tell me something. Would it be so bad to give him another chance? I know you've just started to heal, and that your session with Dr. Weinstock have helped a bit, but you still don't seem happy. Not like you were when you and Brock we together." I glared at her, but she pressed on. "I'm not saying it will be easy at first, but that's what love is about, honey. It's about learning to live with the others flaws. You don't need to love Brock's depression, but you need to accept that it's a part of him and that will never change."

"I am seriously questioning why everyone who told me it was a bad idea to get close to him is now suddenly trying to convince me to get back with him. What's up with that?"

Mom laughed, the sound music to my ears. Her eyes wrinkled at the corners, and she gave my cheeks a gentle pinch. "It's because we've all realized how happy he made you. And I know that he's hurt you, but everyone deserves a second chance. He never meant to hurt you, Claire, you must know that."

"Yeah," I sighed, "I do. I'm just torn, Mom. Do I take him back and risk everything I've worked this past month to achieve, or do I spend the rest of my life miserable knowing I can't save him?"

"It's not your job to save him. He can do that all by himself."

A knock at the door made us both turn. Zoe stood in the doorway, wearing the dress she'd tried on the day we searched for our dresses.

It was a dusty rose, the neckline plummeting to the middle of her chest. Against Zoe's brown skin, it was lovely. The orange-red undertones of her skin made her look like she was glowing. She'd taken her hair out of their braids, allowing her curls to remain natural, flowing around her. Instead of choosing a full face of makeup, she'd chosen to apply a bit of eyeshadow the same shade of her dress with mascara and a hint of blush.

"Zoe! You look gorgeous!" My mother took in her slim waist, the curve of her hips hidden under the flowing skirt. "Who's the lucky boy who gets to spend his night by your side?"

Zoe laughed, sweeping into the room. "Oh, no one special." She caught my eye and winked. "I just decided to come and see how you guys are doing. We decided to head to the venue early. Brock's just finishing up. Are you sure you don't want to come with us, Claire?"