Hearts on Broadway (Book 2)

Chapter 13 - Torn between Two Worlds

The crisp autumn air of Gatlinburg had always brought Georgie comfort, but now, as she stood on the back porch of her mom's house, it felt unfamiliar. The trees surrounding the property were awash in shades of red, orange, and gold, and the mountains stretched out in the distance like a painting. It should've felt peaceful. It should've felt like home. But all Georgie could think about was Nashville.

She wrapped her arms around herself, staring out at the scenery without really seeing it. The sun was setting, casting a soft, golden light over the yard, but the beauty of the moment was lost on her. Her mind was somewhere else—still in the house she had left behind, with Morgan and Jackson.

A familiar ache settled in her chest, the same one she had been carrying since she walked out of their lives. She missed them more than she had ever imagined possible, but at the same time, the guilt of being away, of not being strong enough to stay, weighed her down. She wasn't ready to go back—not yet—but the loneliness was becoming unbearable.

She heard the screen door creak open behind her, and a moment later, Joan stepped out onto the porch. Her mother had been giving her space, but Georgie knew she was worried. Joan had always been able to read her like an open book.

"Mind if I join you?" Joan asked, her voice soft.

Georgie shook her head. "No, of course not."

Joan sat down beside her, the two of them sitting in companionable silence for a few moments. Then, as always, Joan gently probed, trying to reach the part of Georgie that had shut down.

"You've been quiet today," Joan said, glancing at her daughter with concern. "I know you've been thinking a lot about Morgan and Jackson."

Georgie nodded, her throat tightening at the mention of their names. "I miss them," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I miss them so much, but I don't know how to go back. I don't know if I can."

Joan reached over and placed her hand over Georgie's. "It's okay to miss them, Georgie. It doesn't mean you're ready to go back yet. But you don't have to punish yourself for feeling this way. Healing takes time."

Georgie swallowed hard, her heart heavy with guilt. "I feel like I'm running away," she confessed. "Like I should be there, with them, but instead, I'm hiding. I'm afraid of what'll happen if I go back and I'm still not... enough."

Joan squeezed her hand gently. "You're not running away, honey. You're giving yourself the space to heal, and that's important. You don't have to have all the answers right now. You just have to take it one day at a time."

Georgie bit her lip, staring out at the fading sunlight. "What if I never feel like I'm enough?"

Joan's voice was firm but kind. "You are enough, Georgie. You've always been enough. But it's okay to need help. You don't have to go through this alone."

Georgie closed her eyes, her mind flashing back to the days before she left, when everything felt like it was falling apart. The constant crying, the overwhelming sense of failure, the feeling that no matter what she did, she couldn't be the mother or wife she thought she should be. The memories were still raw, and they made her chest tighten with fear.

"I don't know how to fix it," she whispered. "I don't know how to fix myself."

Joan wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. "Maybe you don't need to fix yourself, Georgie. Maybe you just need to give yourself permission to heal."

That night, after Joan had gone to bed, Georgie sat alone in the living room, her thoughts still swirling. The house was quiet, save for the faint ticking of the clock on the wall, and the solitude felt both comforting and suffocating at the same time.

Her phone buzzed on the coffee table, and she hesitated for a moment before picking it up. A new message from Morgan appeared on the screen, along with a video attachment.

She stared at the message, her heart pounding. Morgan had been sending her videos for the past few days—little clips of Jackson, along with short updates about how they were doing. At first, she hadn't been able to bring herself to watch them. It hurt too much. But now, as the silence pressed in around her, she felt the urge to see them again.

With a shaky breath, Georgie opened the video. The screen filled with the image of Jackson, his wide, innocent eyes staring up at the camera as he babbled happily. He reached out, his tiny hands grabbing at the air, and Georgie's heart squeezed painfully.

"Hey, Georgie," Morgan's voice came through the video, soft and full of love. "Just thought I'd send you another update. Jackson's doing great. He misses you, though. We both do. He's growing so fast—you wouldn't believe how much he's changed in just a week. But we're doing okay, and we're waiting for you whenever you're ready."

Georgie watched as Morgan leaned into the frame, smiling at Jackson, who let out a giggle. The sight of them together—the two people she loved more than anything—made her chest ache. She wanted to be there with them, to hold Jackson in her arms, to tell Morgan that she loved him. But the weight of her own fears kept her rooted in place.

She played the video again, and then again, until tears began to spill down her cheeks. She missed them so much it hurt, but the thought of going back, of facing them when she still felt so broken, was too much.

I'm not ready, she thought, wiping her tears away. Not yet.

But maybe, just maybe, she could start taking small steps.

The next day, Georgie woke up with a sense of determination that she hadn't felt in a long time. She wasn't ready to go back to Nashville—not yet—but she knew she couldn't keep running from her problems. She needed to heal, and she couldn't do that alone.

She found Joan in the kitchen, making coffee, and sat down at the table, her hands folded in front of her.

"Mom," she began, her voice tentative, "I think I need to go back to therapy."

Joan turned to her, her eyes filled with relief and understanding. "I think that's a great idea, Georgie. I'm proud of you for taking that step."

Georgie nodded, though the decision still felt heavy. "I'm not ready to go back to Morgan and Jackson yet. I don't want to hurt them by coming back before I'm ready. But I want to start working on myself. I want to get better."

Joan sat down beside her, taking her hand. "That's the right choice, honey. And I'll be here with you every step of the way. You don't have to go through this alone."

For the first time in weeks, Georgie felt a small sense of hope. She wasn't fixed—not by a long shot—but she was starting to believe that maybe, with time and help, she could find her way back.

"I'll stay here with you," Georgie said quietly, "until I feel more like myself."

Joan smiled gently, her eyes filled with love. "Take all the time you need. We'll get through this together."

Later that day, Georgie made the call to her therapist. The act of dialing the number, of setting the appointment, felt like a small victory—a step in the right direction. It wasn't going to be easy, and she knew there were still hard days ahead, but for the first time in a long time, she felt like she was moving forward.

As she sat on the porch that evening, watching the sun set behind the mountains, Georgie let out a deep breath. The road ahead was still uncertain, but for the first time, she wasn't afraid to walk it.

She missed Morgan and Jackson more than she could put into words, but she knew that healing had to come first. And maybe, one day soon, she would be ready to go back to them.