Breaking Without You: A Fractured Connections Novel

by Carrie Ann Ryan

  Oh, God, why was I thinking about things like that? Bile rose in my mouth, and I tried to shake away the horrific thoughts. Maybe I needed to have sex again.

  It had been over a year, after all. Maybe sex would help things. Or perhaps drinking. Wine would help. Yes, wine.

  I didn’t have a migraine, wine would definitely help.

  “I just wanted to make sure that you were doing okay. You’ve been staring off into the distance rather than at your paperwork for a while. I did want to say that Kent and I are so sorry about your friend, Allison. The few times that we met her, she seemed so nice.”

  We. All of those we’s. Kent had known Allison better than Lynn because I was married to the man. But as was the way with overlapping friendships, she had known Allison, as well. But they hadn’t come to the funeral, and for that, I was grateful. Not because it had to be about me, but because I didn’t want it to be about me. I hadn’t wanted the additional whispers about the girl who had found Allison dealing with the fact that her ex-husband and his new wife were there.

  It was all so exhausting—putting all these labels on everything. It just made me tired.

  And it made me realize that I was once again staring off into the distance, and Lynn was giving me that sad, puppy-dog look that I hated.

  “I’m just thinking, no worries about me.”

  “Well, if there’s anything I can do, just know that I’m here.” She squeezed my shoulder again and smiled at me. I ignored the touch.

  I just nodded, giving her a smile. See? Everything was okay. Or it would be. I was a professional, and I got my work done, even if my brain sometimes decided to go off on a tangent. No, it wasn’t easy working with the woman my ex-husband had married, but it wasn’t the end of the world either. I had seen the equivalent of that. I had watched that end happen as they lowered Allison into the ground. Working with Lynn seemed like a small drop in the bucket.

  That oddly calmed me.

  So, I rolled my shoulders back and went back to looking at my data as Lynn walked back to her own paperwork, texting as she did. No doubt messaging Kent, but that was fine with me. I honestly didn’t care.

  Truly.

  I was an environmental chemist who worked at the University of Colorado at Denver. I was listed as an associate professor on the tenure track, but I wasn’t actually teaching this year. They’d dropped one of the classes that I normally taught, so now I just put in more hours in the lab. I worked under one of the tenured professors, but I had my own research team of grad students and undergrads that wanted to follow the grad-student track.

  I really loved what I did, even if it stressed me out sometimes. Lynn worked under the same professor, but she was actually teaching two classes this year—one with the undergrads, and one of the small set of grad students we actually got at the university. We weren’t the main University of Colorado campus, but we were growing bigger on the Auraria campus each year. As soon as they built the new science building and added more dorm rooms downtown, everything had changed just a little. It was far different than it was when I had gone here.

  I hadn’t actually decided to come back and work here until the position opened up and one of the professors that I’d had when I was an undergrad offered me the job.

  I didn’t make beaucoup money, but I didn’t need to. I got to study the ways the city of Denver and its suburbs affected the environment. Because we were surrounded by mountains and lush greens, yet we were still in a desert period. I enjoyed going down to Cherry Creek and running samples, then going up into the mountains to take samples there. It just depended on what area of study I was focusing on for the semester. There was just so much to the way Colorado’s environment impacted the city and vice versa. It made for a rich study.

  It would be easier if I could actually get more funding, though.

  I snorted, shaking my head. Since I wasn’t teaching this semester, I was on a federal grant, which was actually harder to come by these days than it had ever been before. And with the way things were turning out, I was afraid that it would be impossible come next year. A lot of my friends were having to either work on new areas of study or get second jobs not focused on research.

  Things were shifting dramatically, and I knew that I couldn’t just keep my head down and focus on my work. Not entirely. I had to be aware that, one day, I might not be able to do the research I was doing, despite the fact that it was desperately needed with the way our environment and climate were changing.

  But, right then, my focus had to be on the numbers in front of me. It was all about pH and other data for now.

  The information I worked with today would help me tomorrow, and maybe help someone else a few years from now.

  See? I loved what I did. Even if the lack of funding, the fact that I worked with my ex-husband’s current wife, and my migraines that came out of nowhere, sometimes made me not want to work at all. But I really liked shoes, and I liked a roof over my head. And, occasionally, I actually liked a good meal that wasn’t frozen or a can of green beans.

  My stomach rumbled at that thought, and I snorted. Apparently, it was lunchtime, even though I should probably keep working. So, I noted the time and worked for another twenty minutes, making sure I stopped at a place I could come back to later. Then I locked up all my stuff and went down to the break room to eat my lunch. We were chemists, so it wasn’t like I could just eat at my desk. My work area was surrounded by things I really didn’t want my food near or vice versa. I really didn’t want chemicals in my food as it was.

  Then again, my brother was a tattoo artist, and I knew he didn’t work while he was eating either. Yes, he may be able to have a drink when I couldn’t, but he still didn’t eat a sandwich with one hand as he tattooed someone with the other. The thought actually made me smile.

  I sat in the break room, looking out the window towards the mountains. Today was a pretty clear day, and I was grateful for that. We’d had a few horrible fires during fire season, and the haze from that had been ridiculous. When the rain finally came, it had cast a pall over the Rockies so even though the smoke was finally gone, there were so many clouds it was hard to see the mountains at all. It wasn’t until recently that I had been home one day as the sun was setting and I could see the sun from behind the mountains, turning them a dark purple. The effect was so vivid, I knew that I would actually be able to see the mountains the next day.

  Now, I looked out at what I studied, what I loved. With my job, there were a few places that I could live, but this was the best for me. This was what called to me. This was my home. My parents lived here, and the rest of my family. Yes, Mace was about an hour south, but I saw him often. Even more so now that we were making sure we didn’t lose touch.

  I loved Denver. It was a part of me. I would never leave my friends or my family.

  I looked down at my packaged salad and frowned.

  Allison had left us. She had left, and I didn’t know why.

  It was the idea that I had to come to terms with that, which scared me more than it probably should.

  I was a scientist. I needed answers. And there weren’t going to be any of those for me. Not for any of us.

  I let out a shuddering breath and wiped at a tear, grateful that there was no one else in the room. Sienna, Harmony, and I would have to go through Allison’s things soon, something that her parents had asked us to do.

  Although they had taken care of all the funeral arrangements and made decisions that I might not have agreed with at the time but understood, they were letting us deal with her apartment and her things. I wasn’t sure that they would have been able to do it themselves. And, one day soon, I would be grateful for that. But right now, the idea of going through things with Harmony and Sienna hurt me. It was like a sharp, stabbing pain that ebbed to a constant, dull ache.

  But I would do it because it’s what Allison deserved. I missed her with every breath, but I couldn’t bring her back just by missing her.

  I couldn’t do
a lot of things.

  For some reason, the memory of Cameron holding me when I broke filled my mind again.

  I knew that I would be forever grateful that he had been there to keep me away from prying eyes, but I truly wished it hadn’t been him.

  Because he’d brought back all sorts of feelings.

  So many memories and emotions that I shouldn’t feel.

  My life wasn’t as complicated as I was making it seem, at least to myself. But right then, with everything going on, I sometimes wished I could just go back to the way things were in college. When there was laughter before there was heartbreak. Before there had been loss.

  But there was no going back to that.

  This was my life now.

  And if losing Allison had taught me anything, it was that I would have to learn to live it.

  Even if it hurt.

  Chapter Four

  Cameron

  I worked at a bar, needed a damn drink, and wasn’t going to get one anytime soon. I should be used to it by now though, because I didn’t really get what I wanted often.

  And that made me sound like a petulant child, but sitting here listening to my brothers who didn’t really feel like brothers anymore, trying to change everything that had once brought us together didn’t make me feel like I was winning.

  But maybe there was no winning in this. Maybe there couldn’t be any winning in this.

  “There needs to be more changes, Cameron.” Brendon paced the office floor, pinching the bridge of his nose. He had been sitting behind the desk at first, pouring over accounts and paperwork. The ledgers might be mostly electronic, but my brother had wanted to look at all of them in hard copy again so he could focus. That meant they appeared to be piled almost to the ceiling at this point. The fact that my brother was probably the best tech wiz out of all of us was a non sequitur. Brendon just needed something tactile when he was stressed.

  I was also stressed out, and that meant I needed a damn drink. “I know we need to make changes, but that doesn’t mean we have to change everything. Next, you’ll want to take down that prop from Titanic and remove everything that was Jack and Rose.”

  Above the arch to the hallway that led to the restrooms was an old, carved, wooden sign that said, I’ll never let you go…unless you need to. I loved that damn sign.

  Aiden let out a grunt and shook his head. I glared at my twin. “You have something to say?”

  “You know, I think you’re saying enough for both of us, don’t you?”

  “Stop it,” Brendon snapped. “We don’t have time for bickering.”

  “We always have time for bickering,” I said casually. “It’s what we’re good at.”

  “Now you’re just being a dick,” Brendon said, looking down at his papers again.

  “Why don’t you say that to my face, asshole?” I stood up, clenching a hand into a fist. I needed to punch something. Needed to do anything but sit here and listen as everything changed, while I felt completely out of sorts. I wasn’t an idiot. I knew that we needed to do some things to help the business. But going in and changing the entire menu, the atmosphere, and most of the things that were done for years seemed like a lot all at once.

  And maybe it was because I was stressed out about Dillon and my own life, but the fact that I was back here at all when I didn’t know if I would ever come back didn’t help.

  But it didn’t matter.

  Nothing mattered.

  And maybe that was the problem.

  Brendon looked up then and clenched his jaw before he spoke. “Stop it. Just stop it. We’re not going to fight. We’re not going to act like we’re teenagers again. You came here knowing that there would be some changes. You came here with Dillon for us to figure out what we needed to do next. We don’t want to lose the bar. Hell, I know it sucked when the brewery shut down, and we weren’t even here then. We’re not going to lose this part, Jack’s legacy. But we’re going to have to make some changes. Something you damn well know. We’re in the red. Jack was in the red for long enough that we may lose the place unless we get some steady business.”

  “I know all of that. I looked over the numbers just like you did. I’m the one who used to run bars and breweries in California.”

  “I know. That’s why I’m so confused that you’re pressing back so hard.”

  I sighed into my hands and then ran my fingers through my hair. “I know it doesn’t make any sense, and I know that I’m being unreasonable about some things. But can’t we just go slow?”

  “We can go slow and still change the food options. We don’t need to have the same bar food that’s on all the menus around us that nobody wants to eat anymore since they’re clearly not doing it here. People are only coming in for the beer, which is great. But we make more money with food.” Aiden folded his arms over his chest and glared at me. My twin was really good at that, but I couldn’t really fight back. I had moved away, and Aiden hadn’t followed.

  Maybe we needed to deal with that, too. Just not now.

  “But what are you going to do? Make something pretentious and froufrou?”

  Aiden flipped me off. I kind of deserved it, I was being an asshole. “Shut the fuck up. I left my job at a Michelin-starred restaurant to come work at a pub. So, yeah, I’m going to implement some changes. I’m going to add tapas and different things that will make us stand out. You can fight all you want, but that kitchen is mine. So, you better back the fuck off.”

  Aiden stood up then. Looked like I might be getting my fight, after all.

  Brendon stood in between us, shaking his head. “I can’t right now. I seriously cannot with the two of you. Yes, Aiden, we are going to use some of your new food. But you aren’t going to take away all of the bar food. Because we are a bar and grill.”

  “We don’t actually have grill in the name,” I said, knowing that both of my brothers would glare at me.

  Aiden turned, his hands on his hips. “I’m not going to take away your precious wings or anything like that, but I’m going to add some things. We are in foodie nation. People like to try new things. We can have the normal fare, and then we can have a dash of something different. Let me do what I need to do in my kitchen. I’m good at my job. There’s a reason I was the top sous chef at my restaurant.”

  I didn’t add that my brother never would have made it to the head chef position because the owner of the restaurant had let his son take the job. Aiden wouldn’t have made it to the next step in his career because the new head chef and the owner would have made it impossible for him. I didn’t know everything that had gone on, but I knew enough. Aiden might have left everything behind when he came back to work at Jack’s place, but he also needed a new start. We all did.

  “I have a few other ideas, but I need to work them out before I bring them to the table.” Brendon played with the cuffs on his shirt, rolling them up on his forearms. The man always wore a button-down, even when he was in jeans and trying to be casual. I never really understood it, but I knew it’s what made my brother feel comfortable, so whatever.

  “Fine. Do what you want. I’m going back to the bar to help Beckham because I know we’re going to get our one rush of the day soon.”

  “We’ll have more rushes.” Brendon sounded so earnest, I wanted to believe him. I truly didn’t want to think about the fact that this could be the last few months that we worked at this place. Maybe it would have been easier to shut it all down and start over somewhere else, but that was only in the numbers. That didn’t take into account the memories, or the sweat and tears. This was Jack and Rose’s place. We weren’t going to fuck it up.

  Apparently, we were going to change it.

  “I’m heading back to the kitchen to see what I can do. I don’t want to change everything, Cameron.” Aiden glanced at me then, and I froze. He looked so honest, so much like me when I was lost. It startled me sometimes to remember that we were twins. We had been best friends, brothers by blood, and foster brothers. And then we walked a
way from each other.

  It was hard coming back, but it was even harder to face the fact that I had left at all.

  “Just don’t add an amuse-bouche or something that takes dry ice or requires changing states of matter.”

  Aiden snorted. “Molecular gastronomy is not my favorite thing. I know it works in some restaurants, but I’ve always been more of a meat and potatoes guy.”

  That made us all laugh, considering that Aiden had tried to be a vegetarian at one point for Allison, though neither of them had ended up remaining so for longer than a month. Aiden might like meat and potatoes, but he also made it fancy as fuck. That’s what made my brother so good at what he did. But that didn’t mean I had to enjoy all the changes coming at me. And maybe it was because I was feeling a little lost about not being able to help Dillon and being back in town with all of these memories slammed into me, but it all made me feel on edge. Or maybe it was the fact that I kept thinking about Violet and how she’d felt against me when I held her.

  Damn it, I really needed to stop thinking about Violet.

  “Seriously, though, I’m going to work at the bar. Let me know if you need me.”

  “Is Dillon busing tables?” Brendon asked, his voice deceptively calm.

  “He is. He’s not old enough to work behind the bar yet, but he can bus tables and, eventually, if he’s not a brat, he can be a waiter.”

  “And is that what he wants to do? Be a waiter?” Aiden asked, his voice emotionless. Damn it. I needed to figure out what to do about Aiden and Dillon since I wasn’t sure the two had actually spoken a complete sentence to each other, but tonight wasn’t that time.

  “No, he wanted to be in the next big band. But that didn’t work out all that well. So, we’re working on figuring out college forms. And don’t even get me started on the student aid. FASFA is the devil.”

  Brendon snorted. “It really is.” He paused and then looked up at me. “If, uh, you need help with that, let me know. Numbers are sort of my thing. And I’m pretty good at paperwork.” He held out his hands, gesturing at the papers on the desk. I nodded, a lump in my throat.