Broken Heart (The Hearts of Sawyers Bend #7) Read Online Ivy Layne

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Billionaire Tags Authors: Series: The Hearts of Sawyers Bend Series by Ivy Layne
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Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 93002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
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As suddenly as the thought came to life, I realized as capable as she was, she probably couldn’t crack Alan Buckley’s codes. I might not be as competent and capable as Savannah, but I wasn’t useless either. I had skills. I was smart. I thought of my coding classes and Hawk calling me brave.

I watched Savannah lay the silverware on the table, her brows furrowed as she adjusted the place setting just so. She’d married my brother Finn a few months before. Technically, we were sisters now. But before that, she’d been a widow and a single mother. I’d never seen her shy away from a challenge. In my mind, Savannah was one of the bravest women I knew.

“Should I give Forrest another chance?” I asked into the quiet room.

Savannah looked up from the place setting, her eyebrows raised and her gray eyes serious. “I don’t know,” she said. “Do you want to give Forrest another chance?”

I didn’t know what I wanted. That was why I was asking Savannah. No, that wasn’t true—I did know what I wanted. I was just afraid of it. And I realized it wasn’t just that I was terrified of the pain of a broken heart. I also didn’t want to be a fool, not again, not after I’d felt so stupid when Forrest had confessed he’d lied about who he was. With that realization settling into place, I rephrased my question.

“Would you think I was stupid if I gave Forrest another chance?” I asked, my stomach unsettled a little at my need for her approval. Savannah had never taken any shit from me, even when I was at my worst. But she’d been one of the first people to reach out a hand and help me up when I decided I wanted to be better.

“No,” she answered immediately. “I wouldn’t. And that’s not me telling you what I think you should do,” she said, turning to straighten the plate she’d set down. “I can’t answer if you should give him another chance. That’s something only you know.”

“Why wouldn’t you think I was stupid if I got back together with him?” I pressed. “He lied to me. He lied to all of us.”

Savannah nodded. “I know. And while I understand him lying to the rest of us, lying to you is harder to forgive. He betrayed your trust.”

“I think I forgive him,” I admitted, “but I’m afraid to trust him. I’m afraid to trust myself. I don’t want to mess up again.”

Savannah gave me a gentle smile and closed the space between us, pulling me into her arms for a tight hug. Slowly letting me go, she said, “Sterling, you need to give yourself more credit. You have a good heart and a sharp brain. Between the two, I know you’ll figure out what you need.”

Savannah’s compliment filled my heart as that restless thing inside me finally settled. Other people might be nice to placate me, but not Savannah. She’d once handed me a spray bottle of tile cleaner and a rag after I’d gotten sick in my bathroom, telling me her staff didn’t get paid to clean up after spoiled children who didn’t know when enough was enough. Then she came back to check my work, armed with a fresh rag. With a shake of her head, she’d handed me the second rag and told me to try again. She’d pitied me, but she’d forced me to scrub every tile.

Not long after that, I’d stopped drinking. These days, I had a glass of wine with dinner occasionally, but that was it. I didn’t want to be pitied, and scrubbing my puke got old fast. But Savannah didn’t pity me now. She sounded like she admired me, and that felt pretty fucking good.

“What I need?” I echoed. “Don’t you mean what I want?”

Savannah shook her head. “Maybe. But I don’t think this is about what you want. I think you know what you want. I think you have to figure out what you need.”

“I’m not sure I know the difference,” I said slowly.

“I can’t tell you what I think you should do because I don’t know. I’m not you. But I can tell you that when I was falling in love with your brother, it turned me inside out,” she said quietly, her voice pitched low so no one wandering by could overhear. “I didn’t want to be in love with anybody, especially not Finn. He was complicated, and I felt like I’d just gotten my life together. I didn’t want to take a risk again. I was scared.”

“And?” I asked, setting out the silverware following her example, caught by the idea that Finn hadn’t instantly won over Savannah. I’d seen them bicker often enough—the whole house had—but I’d assumed it was mostly foreplay. I’d only seen their courtship from the outside—the sparks and drama, then both of them blissfully happy. It had never occurred to me that Savannah might be scared of anything, much less Finn.



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