An Unbroken Heart by Kathleen Fuller Page A

want to spring the news on her at the last minute.
    A few moments later he heard a knock on the door. He opened it and she burst inside.
    â€œI got your message,” she said, panting slightly after climbing the flight of stairs
from her apartment to his. “Is everything all right? Nothing’s wrong with Lacy, is
it?”
    â€œNo,” he said, surprised at her panic.
    â€œThank God.” She collapsed into his only living room chair as Cameron shut the door.
She fanned herself, her bright green shirt and navy-blue pants clashing with the
orange-and-brown-plaid chair. “When you said you needed to see me and it was important,
I thought something had happened to the baby.”
    â€œShe’s fine. I’m sorry I worried you.” He sat down on the sofa near the chair. It
would be so hard to leave this woman, who had been more of a mother to him than his
own mom ever was. He tugged at a loose upholstery thread, unsure how to tell her
he was leaving.
    â€œCameron?” She leaned forward. “You look upset. Just tell me what’s going on.”
    He met her concerned gaze. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Rodriguez. I need to break my lease.”
    Her fingers touched her red lips. Then she put her hands on each arm of the chair.
“You’re moving?”
    â€œYes.”
    She touched her mouth again, as if in thought. “Cameron, if you’re having trouble
with the rent, I can lower it. I own the building. I can do whatever I want.”
    Her generosity touched him. “The rent is fine. More than reasonable, actually. You
should probably raise it after I leave.”
    â€œI don’t care about money. I care about my tenants.” She leaned back in the chair.
“Where are you going?”
    â€œSouth.” He refused to be more specific. He didn’t want to drag her into his mess
if the police came around asking about him.
    â€œSouth Langdon?” she said, her tone hopeful.
    He almost smiled. There wasn’t a South Langdon, but he understood what she meant.
“Farther south than that.” He wished he could tell her he had family somewhere in
Texas or Florida. Or friends. Or a job. But he didn’t want to completely lie to her. And he had decided to go to West Virginia, which was technically south from here.
“I need a fresh start.” It was the closest he could come to the truth.
    She angled her plump body toward him. “It’s the memories, isn’t it?” She sighed.
“When my Diego passed away ten years ago, I wanted a fresh start too. But no matter
how hard you try, you can’t outrun the past. Or the pain. They’ll always be there,
although the ache will fade with time.” She pressed her hand over her heart. “And
you’ll always carry the beautiful memories you have here, in your heart. I know it
seems impossible right now, but someday you’ll be able to think about your Mackenzie
with joy instead of sorrow.”
    He looked away, stupid tears stinging his eyes again. How many times had he cried
since Mackenzie’s funeral? He’d been alone with her before the cremation while the
funeral director’s wife took care of Lacy. There had been no service. No visitation.
No phone calls, even though Cameron had reached out to Mackenzie’s mother and told
her what happened. He’d gotten her voice mail. He hadn’t wanted to leave that devastating
message. Although he’d never met the woman and knew Mackenzie had hated her for
caring more about scoring drugs than about her, he felt a duty to let her mother
know she’d lost her daughter. He shouldn’t have been surprised not to get a call
back.
    There was no one to mourn Mackenzie but Cameron. His sweet wife had deserved more
than that, more than the short, mostly unhappy life she’d had. No, he didn’t believe
the ache would ever go away.
    Neither would the guilt for what he’d done. He would never think about his wife