It Comes Back to You (Woven Hearts #1)

Chapter 1

It isn’t until I glance up at the clock on the wall opposite my desk that I realize I’m late for lunch with Liv. “Shit,” I mutter to myself as I quickly hit save on the draft I’m working on and rush out of my office building.

Olivia and I have been friends since we were kids, and I was over-the-moon excited when she moved to Columbia with me. Her office, where she works as an interior designer, is a couple of blocks from mine. Even though we live together, we meet for lunch whenever we can.

I remind myself to slow down as I approach the restaurant.

Walking in, I immediately spot Liv at a table and see she’s already ordered drinks for us—her long, blonde hair glistens in the sun shining through the window.

I used to wish my light brown hair looked more like hers. But I’ve learned to love my uniqueness.

Liv is wearing a funky, burnt orange, boho-style shirt with long sleeves shaped like bells. Her outfit starkly contrasts with my simple black A-line dress and gray suit jacket. I laugh at myself as I think about how perfectly our respective outfits match our personalities.

“Liv,” I say, a little out of breath.

“You went into hyperfocus mode again, didn’t you, Katherine?” Her vivid blue eyes gleam with laughter I know she’s trying to hold back. Ugh, I know I’m in trouble when she uses my full first name.

“I’m so sorry! I’ve been working on this motion all morning, and I was just in the groove and lost track of time.” The words come out too fast as I sit down across from her.

“No biggie. I get it.” She shrugs, eyes still gleaming. “But that’s why I ordered you unsweetened tea, ya bitch!” A grin spreads across her face as she gestures at the drink on the table in front of me. I groan internally. I hate unsweetened anything.

“I deserve that. I would say it won’t happen again, but you and I both know that would be a lie.” I give her a contrite expression and stare at the offending unsweetened tea.

“So,” I begin slowly, “how did dinner go last night? You got home late.” I take a sip of my tea and grimace. Placing the glass back on the table, I search for a packet of sugar and sigh, resigned, when I don’t find any. I settle for putting my hands in my lap.

Liv blows out a breath. “Fuck, dinner was rough. I swear, Talia’s dad hates me.

Or maybe not me, but the concept of me. I’m the first girlfriend she’s brought home, and I think her dad was…

I don’t know… shocked? That I’m a woman.

” Liv audibly breathes and spins her glass on the table.

“I know she talked to her family beforehand, but I think her dad seeing me made everything more real to him. I don’t think he’s handling the fact that his baby girl is gay very well. ”

“Yikes. I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, well, we both knew going into this that there would be challenges.” She sips on her drink, “I really like her. I want this to work, but sometimes I worry about our families accepting us. Because… fuck everyone else that judges us for who we are. But not having our families on our side? I think that would crush us both.”

The server takes this moment to ask us if we know what we want to order. We’ve been here more times than I can count, so I don’t have to look at the menu. Once we place our orders, the server leaves us to our conversation.

“Do you think your parents wouldn’t accept Talia?”

She shakes her head, her hair swaying with the movement. “No. They’ve known for a while who I like. It’s really about her family accepting her, and then accepting me. She’s kept that side hidden from her family for a long time, even though she’s dated other women.”

“I guess the bright side is that she obviously cares about you since she’s ready to share this part of herself with her family. If you have strong feelings for her, just give them time to accept her and you.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” She spins her glass on the table again. “You know, Sam called me yesterday afternoon.” Liv’s voice is tentative. The last thing I want to do is talk about Sam. But she continues before I can stop her. “Do you think you’ll ever let him back in?”

Frowning at her words, I fiddle with my hands under the table, nervous and a little upset with the turn of conversation. “Liv, please.”

Samuel Harris is my brother Ethan’s best friend.

We all grew up together. Ethan and Sam are the same age, two years older than me.

When we were kids, Ethan, Sam, Liv, and I were inseparable.

We would frequently come up with wild schemes.

When we weren’t scheming, we were out riding our bikes through the neighborhood.

“Come on, Kat. It’s been years,” she scolds me, making me feel like a berated child.

“Yeah,” I lean back in my chair, “and I still don’t know how to have a relationship with him when I still—I don’t know how—I don’t want to talk about this.” I glare at the glass of unsweetened tea again, avoiding Liv’s attention.

“I’m sorry, I just—”

“I know.” It comes out softer than before. I know she means well. This isn’t the first time we’ve had this conversation.

I’m saved from talking about Sam when our food comes, matching grilled chicken, spinach, and strawberry salads with balsamic vinaigrette dressing.

We quickly eat our food, partly because I was late for lunch and partly because she has a client meeting to get to, and I have a document I need to finish writing.

***

I'm back at the office and deep into the draft again when my phone starts ringing, interrupting the music playing through my earbuds.

Looking around my desk, I realize that, distracted, I left my phone in my purse after lunch. Sam… I shove the thought into the recesses of my mind, just as I open the drawer in my desk and pull out my phone.

Glancing at my phone’s screen, I see that Dad is calling. He doesn’t usually call during working hours. He’s an attorney, too, and understands the grind.

Declining the call, I start typing a quick message that I’ll call him later.

But before I can hit send, he’s calling again.

“Ok. Something must be up.” Answering the call, I greet, “Hey, Dad, what’s shakin’?

” As I lean back into my office chair, my attention fixes on the photos of outdoor scenery I’ve hung up across from my desk.

The images are mostly of pictures I took while hiking in Seattle… with Sam.

Sam went to college in Seattle, and I followed him shortly after. These photos inevitably remind me of him—even when I don’t want them to.

“Kat.” Dad’s hoarse voice interrupts my wayward thoughts. His tone sets my nerves on edge. “It’s Ethan.” He pauses, and I hear him take a ragged breath. “He was in a car accident.” His words are slow, like he's choking on them.

"Is he ok?" Still leaning back in my chair, I try to stop my mind from reeling. I don't know anything yet.

“He’s in rough shape. He’s in surgery now, but it doesn’t look good." Tears stream down my face, and I choke back a sob.

I immediately shoot up from my chair, unable to sit as I process Dad’s words. I just talked to Ethan this morning and asked for his advice on a case I’m working on.

I can’t speak yet, and there is only silence on the other side—like Dad knows I need a minute.

I force myself to look at the potted plants I keep on my windowsill. Anything to try to ground myself so I don’t spiral.

Standing still isn’t working, so I start pacing back and forth in my small office. My heart thumps too loudly in my ears as the world turns too quiet.

“Kat?” Dad’s voice breaks.

“An accident?” It comes out wobbly. I lean over the front of my desk and place my hands on the surface, feeling the grooves of the dark oak beneath my fingertips.

Just breathe.

I look at the neat piles of documents scattered across the flat surface of my desk, not really seeing anything.

"You should come home," Dad says softly.

I clear my throat, “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” My voice sounds like I’m sucking down molasses.

“Drive safe.” I can hear the tears in his voice now. “I love you, baby girl.”

“I love you, too, Dad.”

We hang up, and I stay leaning over my desk, my hands planted in place. After a few moments, I stand up and wipe the tears from my cheeks as I walk around my desk. Thankfully, I don’t wear much makeup and don’t have to worry about it smearing.

Like most junior attorneys, my office is small. Truthfully, I’m just grateful to have a spot where I can shut the door and tune out the noise of the bustling law firm I work at. I’m even more thankful for this space right now; I don’t want anyone to see me crying at work.

Sitting back in my chair, I quickly send the draft I’ve been working on with a quick overview to my boss before walking to his office. As calmly as I can, I begin to explain the situation.

I don’t get past saying my brother was in an accident before my boss cuts me off. “Go home, Katherine, we have everything handled here.”

I don’t hesitate at his words; I walk back to my office, gather my purse and phone, and leave.

I stop at my apartment long enough to change into leggings and a T-shirt and fill a bag with some necessities for the trip. Mostly clothes and my toothbrush.

Throwing my bag into the trunk of my car, I send a quick text message to Liv:

Ethan was in an accident, and I'm headed to Charleston. I don't know much but it sounds bad. I'll call you when I know more.

Shit, girl

Ok. Please keep me posted and drive safe!

Briefly, I contemplate sending a message to Sam. The thought of messaging him makes my stomach churn. I know he would want to know. He deserves to know. I wish someone else could tell him. But I can’t put this on my parents.

I can’t remember the last time I texted him outside of responding to his holiday or birthday greetings—usually with something vague and noncommittal. I type and retype the message several times before I bite the bullet and hit send.

Hi Sam. I'm not sure if you've heard. Ethan was in a car accident and is in surgery. I don't know much but it sounds bad.

I don’t wait for a reply before shoving my phone into my purse and tossing my bag on the passenger seat of my car. Right now, all I can think about is Ethan.