More Than Anything (Broken Pieces #1)(8)

Some pain was just too huge to be self-soothed away.

When she finally got home to her neat little one-bedroom flat in Cape Town’s picturesque Bantry Bay, she collapsed onto the comfy sofa and stared blindly down at where she knew the stormy ocean was. It was dark, and all she could currently see were the whitecaps of the waves and the lights from cars, streetlamps, and homes.

She had bought this flat five years ago, on her twenty-third birthday, dipping into the inheritance from her granddad. Her parents hadn’t approved, of course. They would have preferred she stay with them, where they could monitor her every move, control her comings and goings, and attempt to influence her decisions. Buying this cozy oceanfront flat had been Tina’s way of asserting her independence.

She practiced a series of deep-breathing exercises her therapist—back when she had still seen one regularly—had taught her. Fighting back the panic attack that threatened to overwhelm her.

“Don’t think about it,” she whispered urgently. “Don’t. Don’t. Don’t . . .”

But the memories were there, battering away at her skull, fighting to surface . . . the bet, the awful words, the difficult months that had followed. The heartbreak and disappointment she had suffered for so long after that one moment in time had all but ruined her life and completely shattered her self-esteem. She lifted her feet to the sofa, wrapped her arms around her legs, and buried her face in her knees. Sometimes, it was best to let the memories come. Cathartic almost. Maybe that would be the case this time.

Her phone buzzed, and Tina jumped, still so caught up in the past that it took her a moment to adjust to the present. Her face was wet with tears, and she impatiently scrubbed her palms over her face.

“Get it together, Tina,” she muttered. “You’re stronger than this.”

She looked down at her ringing phone. It was Libby. Tina’s brow furrowed as she wondered why her friend was calling so late.

“Hey, Libby?” she answered cautiously.

“Tina? I need you. Please can you come back? It’s urgent.”

“On my way,” Tina promised without a moment’s hesitation, already up and heading for the door even as she said the words.





Chapter Two

“He actually said that?” Tina asked her distraught friend in disbelief, not quite able to process Libby’s words. The younger woman was a mess, her face swollen and wet from all the tears she had shed. Her eyes were bloodshot and red rimmed. A far cry from the exhausted but glowing woman Tina had left just hours ago.

“Yes. I have to get out of here, Tina. You have to help me.”

“Of course, but . . .” She shook her head, not sure what to say.

“No buts,” Libby interjected angrily. “My husband just told me he doesn’t believe that our baby is his. There are no buts here. I’m leaving him.”

“That goes without saying,” Tina said soothingly. “But I’m not sure you can leave the hospital just yet.”

“I can. Both Clara and I are healthy enough to leave.”

“Clara?” Tina asked, her eyebrows rising.

“Yes. I’ve decided to name her Clara.” There was a defiant tone in Libby’s voice, and Tina knew why. Harris and Greyson had once had a nanny/tutor named Clara. Both of them had absolutely despised the woman. This was Libby’s way of sticking it to Greyson.

“It’s a pretty name,” Tina said truthfully, and Libby sagged back onto the bed, looking exhausted and heartbroken.

“Look, I’ll make a deal with you,” Tina said quietly, reaching out to take one of Libby’s hands into hers. “Spend the night in hospital, and I’ll take you anywhere you want to go tomorrow, okay? It’s best for both you and Clara.”

Libby lifted her free hand to cover her eyes and sobbed, tears seeping from beneath her palm and running down the sides of her face, to soak the cushion beneath her head.

“I don’t understand why he’s being so cruel.”

Tina said nothing, merely squeezing Libby’s hand comfortingly. Greyson had always been a bit of a cold fish. Harris was the passionate, impetuous one. Greyson was cool, calculating, and always distant. Tina could very easily see him renouncing his own baby if he truly believed he was sterile. What a complete prick. Seriously.

Any other man would probably have double-checked that he was indeed firing blanks before burning his bridges so definitively.

“We’ll get you discharged first thing in the morning, okay? It’s nearly midnight now anyway, and I’m sure they’re going to kick me out soon.” The hospital had flexible visiting hours, but Tina was certain that visiting this late was pushing it a bit. “Do you need anything before I leave?”

Libby shook her head, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

“Oh, Libby,” Tina whispered, her heart breaking for her friend. “I wish I could make this go away, I honestly do. Do you want me to speak with Greyson? See where his head is at?” Tina tended to avoid both Chapman brothers; Greyson was hard to communicate with, unapproachable, and surly, so Tina offering to speak with him was a big deal. And Libby surely knew that. Libby moved her hand from her eyes and met Tina’s gaze.

“No. It’s fine. Harris has already said he was going to speak with him about this. Against my wishes, I might add. He’s trying to fix it. It can’t be fixed. I won’t forgive Greyson for this.”