Pieces of Summer (A stand-alone novel)

“I’ll go to a judge. They’ll rule in my favor that you don’t have the mental capacity to make your own decisions,” Aidan argues, getting right in her face.

That one really pisses me off, and my fists clench at my sides.

“Or they’d just lock her back up,” I bite out.

Hunter and Aidan snap their gazes toward me, but Mika turns away as though she’s embarrassed, making me regret speaking up.

“I won’t be deemed unfit to make my own decisions,” she says coldly. “You know that. Dr. Stein will never sign off on me being incompetent.”

Aidan cuts his eyes back to her, but she’s gone. Physically she’s still right in front of us, but mentally, she’s a thousand miles away.

Both of them see it as well, because Hunter looks crestfallen as he stares at the distant look on Mika’s face.

“I’m starving,” Hunter finally says. “Let’s get some food and regroup afterwards.”

Mika turns and moves toward the back door. “Go without me. My appetite is gone.”

Aidan curses as she walks out and gently pushes the door shut behind her. When he tosses a vase against the wall, it shatters and clanks to the ground in pieces.

“You have to get control of yourself. You’re acting more irrational than her right now,” Hunter tells him.

“She’s not acting irrational at all,” I point out, earning a glare from Aidan. “If anything, she’s using cold logic. You’re never going to get through to her.”

“She’s my fucking sister. If anyone can break through, it’s me.”

I’ve kept quiet all morning, but I’ve reached my limit. Standing slowly, I take a step toward him. He doesn’t back down. I think he’s looking for any excuse to fight me.

“Calling her incompetent is getting through to her?” I growl. “You think Mika enjoys feeling like you think of her that way?”

Some of his anger ebbs, revealing his true desperation. He sags to a chair, and he groans while gripping his hair. He doesn’t say anything for a few moments, but he finally looks back up to Hunter.

“Let’s grab that food. I need coffee or something and a second to calm down.”

Just as I toss Hunter my keys, I look back at Aidan.

“If you know her so well, you’d know that pissing off Mika only solidifies her decision. She might be different, but she’s still the same. She’s stubborn as fuck. The angrier you make her, the easier it is for her to keep her resolve.”

Hunter’s lips twitch, but Aidan won’t meet my gaze. It’s not fair to him for me to act like I know her better, but I’ve learned a lot about him over the past two months in Mika’s absence.

He’s more dependent on her than she is on him. He feels like she’s his purpose in life. As admirable as it is that he’s trying to do right by his sister, it’s also sad that he never took the time to truly learn all there is to know about her.

What gives me hope is the fact Mika is still the same Mika. It’s everyone treating her like she’s so different that pisses her off. It’s probably why she’s doing so much better than Aidan after the long separation.

She’s strong independently. He’s only strong in her presence.

No more words are exchanged as Aidan stands and leaves with Hunter. As they walk out, I push open the back door to find Mika sitting on the deck railing and staring out at the vast woods.

“This is nice, but not as nice as the lake view,” I state softly.

She doesn’t react or even acknowledge I’ve come out here, and my lips twitch. She can handle arguing, which is why I stopped arguing last night. She can handle yelling—it just fuels her. There’s only one way to crack that wall she’s managed to put back up.

I prop up beside her, leaning against the railing, and she tenses noticeably. When my arm barely brushes hers, she turns into stone.

“This is hard enough to deal with, Chase. Please go,” she says quietly.

“Sorry. Can’t do that,” I say with a shrug and a smile.

She darts a sidelong glance at me before returning her gaze to the woods again.

“I just realized something,” I tell her, scooting closer until our arms are fully touching.

She doesn’t move, but I can hear the hitch in her breath. When she doesn’t respond, I go on.

“This is the first time I’ve seen you after summer.” I smile broader, but it backfires on me.

“Funny. It’s not the first time I’ve seen you after summer,” she says flatly. “Maybe I should have fucked someone else to end things the way you did.”

Fuck.

“I was a kid. As stupid as it sounds, I thought I was being strong and noble, when in reality I was being weak and a coward,” I confess.

Slowly, some of her tension leaves. “You did what you thought was right. In the end, it worked out. Everything happens for a reason. Now leave me alone so I can return the favor.”

The coldness is gone from her voice, and her pain carries through despite her attempts to mask it.

“Eleven years ago, summer came and you weren’t there,” I tell her on a sigh. She tenses again, but I continue. “I’ve spent all this time thinking I did the right thing, even though I resented you for deserving better. But in truth, I used it as an excuse.”

C.M. Owens's books