The Truth about Heartbreak (The Truth About #1)

by B. Celeste

I spent all night remembering the distraught expression on his face. Maybe it resembled mine, because I thought kissing David would make me forget about kissing Everett; forget everything I did with him that was off limits to me. It doesn’t really work that way, I guess.

Everything hurts. My eyes. My body. My heart. It hurts for Isabel and for my family. It doesn’t hurt for me, because I’m the maker of my own destruction.

“Do you love him, sweetie?” Her voice is quiet, curious, and maybe a little knowing. She’s watched me grow up, watched me blossom and change, so surely she’s watched me pine for Everett Tucker all these years. Pining isn’t the same as loving though. “Yes.”

If it’s truly love, and I believe it is knowing that boy, then you will find your way back to each other.”

Everything will be waiting for you when you’re ready.” But how will I know when that is? That annoying voice in my head answers, when it stops hurting.

But home isn’t as simple as four walls and a roof. Home isn’t a place. It’s a person. And mine is somewhere suffering as a wrecking ball threatens to tear down her walls. I’m the instigator. I’m the person who pulls the lever. All because of one night. No. All because of ten years. I just hope there will be a hell of a lot more to come.

Moving forward means redoing what I should have done to begin with.

“Stephanie Malone posted this picture the day before I confronted River. It was some lame throwback Thursday post I nearly skipped over. Recognize it? It’s the same moment Bridgette was taking the picture of us at the barbecue. I didn’t pay it much attention until I realized that your eyes weren’t focused on me in this picture. They’re looking at River. Funny how perspective can really change things, huh?

I don’t want Everett to drown in me. I just want him to float away.

“You really loved her?” “Sure did.” He brushes off crumbs from his hands and sits back. “But it wasn’t real love or she would have stuck around.”

“Signs are what people bank on when there’s too much doubt in something they want to believe,”

“You can ask the universe for a sign or guidance, but it won’t do you a lick of good, kid. We see what we want to when we’re good and ready.”

“Sometimes you meet that one person in your life who holds all of that love for you and then some.” But how could that be Everett to me? “Could those people hurt you?” He taps the edge of the table. “They’re the only ones who have the power to hurt us. But it’s only us who has the power to forgive.”

“I was getting you some aspirin when you told me you loved River. You said, ‘I’m sad, Robert. Not just for the Issy and the baby, but for River.’ And I asked why you’d be sad for her, you told me it was because you loved her, but you couldn’t be with her.”

Promises aren’t what make the foundations of good relationships, commitment is. We can promise people anything, stretch ourselves thin to maintain them, and then waste away from guilt when they can’t be achieved. You can’t promise people anything, son. You’re setting yourself up for disappointment, for failure. Sometimes it takes more than that to prove what you’re willing to do for a person.”

For the first time in my life, I realize that some people aren’t worth the pain.

“Remember not to give up on her. Sometimes distance is hope in disguise.”

all the times I knew he and Isabel fought, and how we stood a chance because he chose me in ways I shouldn’t be proud of, but my heart took as a victory anyway.

I’m a firm believer that things happen for a reason, and maybe Jill brought you to us, so we could bring you to him.”

And I manage to crack through the barrier of unknowns that hold me back to realize that this is right where I belong. River James. Daughter of Robert and Bridgette. Sister of Oliver. Best friends with Stephanie. And in love with Everett Tucker.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me,” he finally says, letting out a shallow breath. “But I do hope you understand that, for me, it has always been you.” He holds out the paper to me. Hesitantly, I take it, unsure if I should read it now or later. I’m afraid of what it’ll say, but also yearning to know how this plays into whatever we share between us. It has always been you.

We survived loss. We survived pain. We survived for each other. Death never claimed me even when I begged for it, because there was always something more for me out there; love of all kinds that I used to believe I didn’t deserve.

Mom looks at me with worry shadowing her eyes. “Are you okay, sweetie?” For the first time, I don’t lie. “Yes.”

“If my professor had told us to write down our feelings sooner, I probably would have admitted them long before that point.”

“But you know what would look even better?” Her breath catches. “What?” My hands skim her sides in a slow, sensual fashion. “Nothing but skin.”

As we walk to find River, I can’t help but wonder if she found this comfort in someone so soon after her adoption. When I find her and Everett holding hands in the kitchen, smiling lovingly at each other like they’ve known each other for ages, I feel like I find my answer.