Patchworked Hearts {SAMPLE}

Chapter 5

Helen tossed a small red ball against the back wall of her apartment, her eyes glazed with thought and her movements robotic as she threw and caught it, deaf to its rhythm as it slapped the wall and then her palm.

Thud. Smack. Thud. Smack. Thud. Smack.

It was around three in the morning on Friday, and Addy had left the day before, leaving Helen feeling more than a little cagey.

"Will you be alright?" her best friend had asked once Isaiah had said his hellos and then gone to take Addy's bag to his car.

"Of course," Helen had lied. "Have fun, alright? I love you."

Addy hadn't entirely believed Helen—the look in the other woman's eyes made that obvious—but she didn't push it and instead yanked Helen into a tight hug. "Love you too. I'll see you Sunday night, okay?"

Don't be so sure, the cynical part of Helen's mind had snarked.

Swallowing down her fear, Helen had returned Addy's embrace and whispered into her roommate's ear, "Don't worry about me—focus on Isaiah."

The words had confused Addy, but she didn't have a chance to question Helen before Isaiah was sweeping back into the apartment with a toothy grin, crooked glasses, and an excited, "Let's kick it!"

And then they had left.

Helen had immediately fled for work, and the city noise as she walked there had been a comforting contrast to the silent apartment. Work itself was always a good distraction, and she would have stayed there all night if not for Addy's text of You'd better be going home and sleeping, Nell.

Knowing her best friend would ask her (and know if she was lying) later, Helen had blown out a sigh and walked back to the apartment. That idea in itself was horrible, but it was one in the morning at the time and she hadn't wanted to wake Pat.

Thankfully, the streets had been relatively quiet, and she'd made it back without getting murdered in a dark alley.

Unfortunately, the quiet apartment had brought no relief, and there were only so many articles and advice columns she could write and edit before her eyes began to sting from the harsh light of her computer screen.

Which was why she'd been hitting a ball against the back wall of her apartment for an hour or so.

It was a mindless task she had, unfortunately, become familiar with in the years since the accident. However, she'd learned rather quickly that she had to use whichever wall faced the outside, since she'd gotten complaints from neighbors in the past.

She startled violently out of her thoughts when the ball slapped against her face, jolting backwards and barely catching herself before she tripped over her exhausted, clumsy feet.

"It's four in the morning," she told herself a bit deliriously, watching absently as the bright red ball rolled to a stop against the baseboard. "I should be in bed. Asleep." There was no response, of course, and she felt tears prickle at her eyes.

God, it had been a long time since she'd felt so utterly alone.

Flopping down on the floor, she swallowed thickly and croaked, "This sounds so stupid when I say it out loud, but you weren't supposed to leave before I did." Falling backwards, she hit the rug-covered floor with a thump and stared at the ceiling morosely. "The whole thing sucks, you know? It sucks."

But there was no way to change it, so Helen had no choice but to lie back and watch the popcorn ceiling, praying that she wouldn't fall asleep and, if she did, that it would be peaceful.