Page 9 of Shuttered Hearts

Melissa was a good woman. When I say I’ve known her my entire life, I mean it. Our families had always been connected toeach other, what with being co-founders of the small town we lived in. And I honestly thought I loved her.

Melissa, her older brother Ryan, my younger sister Ava, and I had all been friends growing up, and it wasn’t until a few years after I graduated high school anything more happened with Melissa.

We had shared a few kisses over the years, but she was two years younger than me, and I knew she didn’t really want to stay in Harborview—which was something Ihadwanted. It never felt right doing more when we weren’t on the same path in life.

But one day, the summer after she graduated high school, we were all hanging out by the river, and things changed. Ava and Ryan had been in the water with some friends, and Melissa and I had been sitting in the shade of a tree, talking. I honestly don’t remember exactly who made the first move, but I remember the look Melissa had given me.

We should have talked more about what we both wanted out of life and how we saw the future playing out. But by that point, I had sold my first painting for more than I ever thought possible, and I think Melissa expected me to want more than what I had.

I tried to make it work. I did the networking and the major art exhibits. I took her on trips to places she had always dreamed about. But all of it came at a cost, the biggest being our happiness. We both made sacrifices for the other, and those sacrifices led to bad decisions.

When I left Harborview, I had been running from my family and everything my life had become—a life I never wanted in the first place. My parents couldn’t understand why I wasn’t willing to make it work with Melissa. They knew about her affair, but from their point of view, it had been a one-time mistake—and entirely my fault.

The truth was, both Melissa and I had been unhappy. If we were being honest with each other, we were unhappy for most ofour marriage. Things were ending one way or another. It’s why she hadn’t gone with me on that last trip.

She’d told me about the affair as soon as I got home. She’d been lonely and gone out to the bar with some friends. She got drunk, and a tourist had given her the attention she thought she had been craving. She was sorry it happened and was willing to do whatever I wanted to make everything right again.

We finally really talked to each other—about everything—how we both felt about our marriage and what we both wanted for our futures. In hindsight, it was probably the closest I had ever felt to Melissa. But it also became clear we would never be able to make it work. We wanted different things out of life, and if the six previous years had taught us anything, it was that neither of us were happy with the compromises we were making.

So, we decided to get divorced. Not something either of our parents were thrilled with, but Melissa’s family quickly jumped on board, while mine didn’t understand. I tried to explain it, but their traditional beliefs made it difficult to move on from.

My parents weren’t rude or harsh about it, but they made it known they weren’t happy. They didn’t agree with divorce, and they were worried ours would ruin their close friendship with the Whitakers. While things had been a little awkward during those first few encounters, they quickly went back to how they were before Melissa and I had gotten together. I don’t know if I would say Melissa and I ever became close friends again, but we did pretty well, considering everything we’d been through.

Either way, my parents made it difficult for me to find that peace I once had in Harborview, so I left and ended up in Ashford Falls, where I met John Lewis.

I’d been at the local diner, grabbing dinner one night, when John approached me and introduced himself. I was used to being recognized when attending an art event but had neveractually been recognized in my normal day-to-day life. So when John told me he was a fan of my work, we started talking.

I’d told him I wasn’t actively painting anymore and was looking for other ways to spend my time. I mentioned I still wanted to do something with art, and somehow he convinced me to apply to be the high school art teacher, a position he was retiring from at the end of the school year.

Now, here I was, getting ready to start my sixth year of teaching, and I couldn’t love my job more.

A week later, I met Caleb at the bar, where we became fast friends. His dad had recently been diagnosed with cancer, and I was still struggling to process the tenuous relationship with my parents. While we may not have been going through the same things, we were both trying to find peace with where our lives had taken us.

Caleb introduced me to his father shortly after that. And Scott, being the kind of man he is, took me in and made me part of his family.

For five years, I’ve heard all the Marks men, including Max, speak very highly of Quinn. How, even though she wasn’t home, she was always there for them when they needed her. How she never missed a Saturday phone call or their monthly FaceTime, even if she was in some foreign country with limited access to Wi-Fi or service. How proud they were of everything she’d accomplished in her career. How she wasn’t afraid to go for what she wanted out of life.

I didn’t know the specifics of Quinn’s life, but I knew who she was as a person, and that alone was attractive. Now that I had seen the grown-up version of Quinn and everything else I knew about her, I was struggling to ignore whatever this feeling was.

But now isn’t the time to think about that. I still have a class to teach.

“All right, folks!” I clap my hands to get everyone’s attention. “Let’s get into it.”

five

QUINN

I pullup to the middle school's pickup line, still thinking about my two brief encounters with Declan.

There’s something about him that made it easy to talk to him, but that didn’t stop me from being shocked I shared anything about my past. I lived in New York for ten years, had co-workers and neighbors, made friends with some of them, and none of them knew any of the things I shared with Declan. Which, if I’m being honest, wasn’t much. But that’s how closed off I was to people. I didn’t want them knowing anything about my past.

I can’t stop my thoughts from drifting back to him, though. No matter how much I know there is too much going on in my life for me to dwell on any of it.

He’s a co-worker, and apparently, close friends with both my dad and my brother. He’s going to be part of my life, no matter what. I can be his friend, but that’s it.

It wouldn’t hurt to have someone else to lean on, but there can be nothing more than that. Even if these feelings have me questioning what I think I know about my future.

I still don’t know what I’m doing after this year in Ashford Falls. There is nothing keeping me here. Even if a miracle happens, and Dad somehow makes it through this recurrence, he wouldn’t want me to stay in town if it isn’t where I want to be.

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