The Two Halves of my Heart: A Friends-to-Lovers Romance Read online

  The Two Halves of my Heart

  Rachel De Lune

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Epilogue

  Blush

  Also By Rachel De Lune

  About Rachel De Lune

  ©All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced without written consent from the author, except that of small quotations used in critical reviews and promotions via blogs.

  The Two Halves of my Heart is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  The Two Halves of my Heart ©2020 Rachel De Lune

  Cover design by LJDesigns

  Book design by LJDesigns

  Editing by BNW Editing

  Proofing by Roxane LeBlanc

  Rachel De Lune on Social Media:

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/racheldeluneauthor/

  Instagram: www.instagram.com/racheldeluneauthor

  Website: www.racheldelune.com

  To my beautiful daughter.

  You've grown from a girl to a young woman in the time it's taken me to finish writing this story. I find myself fighting the hands of time to keep you as my little baby girl, and no matter how hard or valiantly I might try, I'll lose.

  But that’s okay.

  Know that you will always be my baby girl, no matter how much attitude you throw at me or what adventures you embark on.

  I love you.

  Chapter 1

  Grace Seven Years Old

  It was the spring before my eighth birthday when we moved. I remember because everything looked so lush and green. Outside the front of our house was a large area of grass with a path running alongside a small river. Beyond the river was yet more grass, with trees, and fields for as far as I could see. Cows grazed in the field and came down the muddy bank to drink from the water. Scenes from the picture books I used to read were now right before my eyes.

  I was like a ball of compressed energy, desperate to go out and explore—the lure of all the space, so different from the city where our house was next to more homes and roads with nothing in between.

  But my mum was cautious. She’d never fully explained why, nothing more than the usual ‘don’t talk to strangers’ or ‘stay away from the edge of the road’, which meant that the freedom that teased the air could only be enjoyed from my bedroom window, even though I was desperate to go outside and play more than anything else in the world.

  Finally, after a week of badgering her over and over again, she relented and let me walk across the small, quiet road our house was on and onto the green. I could still see her in the living room window. She never took her eyes off me, but that was okay. I walked up and down and made sure I could still see the house. The fun of being let out soon disappeared, now I didn’t know what to do with myself out in the open. So I picked up a long stick to drag behind me. Now I was outside, I felt a bit lost. There was no one else to play with.

  But that soon changed.

  The next day, after I’d convinced Mum I could go out on the green again, I met them. Two boys came tearing past me with a pretend gun and crossbow. They were loud and shouty, and it was hard to ignore them. But I didn’t want to. My heart raced as they rushed past me, and my eyes stuck to them like glue. Play with me, I silently begged as they kept running.

  Sadly, my mum had other ideas, and as soon as I had worked up the courage in my little chest to ask one of them if I could join in, she hoisted me back to the house. My chest got tight, and my eyes stung, but I didn’t want to cry. Crying was for little girls who weren’t allowed to play on their own or find friends for themselves. That’s not who I was.

  I ran up to my room and watched them from my window. The boys yelled and screamed at each other, and it made me wonder if they were friends at all the way they argued. But they also wore great big smiles on their faces and raced off together every few minutes after agreeing, or not agreeing, who’d shot who.

  That night, I went to bed, hoping to find a friend to play with the next day, and I even wished it would be the loud boys whom I’d watched from my window.

  The spring sunshine lit up the world day after day and gave me no reason to stay inside. The Easter holidays meant no school, at least for now. When the holiday ended, I would be starting at my new school. Part of me knew that it would be fun because I’d meet a whole bunch of new friends for the first time. But that funny, swirly feeling in my stomach wouldn’t go away when my mind pictured what it might be like. And every day, it got worse.

  The outside was beckoning me with bright clear skies and thick green grass. Mum had relaxed enough that she wasn’t waiting at the window for the entire time I was outside. I would be eight in a few months, but to my mum that only meant I still needed to be watched.

  This time, as I ran about with my stick and drew patterns in the grass, the boys’ voices and shouts were an early warning of their arrival on the green. They didn’t have any pretend guns with them today, but the smiles they shared the first time I’d seen them were still firmly on their faces.

  “Hi!” One of them skidded to a halt in front of me. “My name’s Maddison. Want to play?” He had light, yellowy hair that looked like he hadn’t brushed it after getting out of bed.

  I wrung my hands together. The giddy feeling circling in my stomach and the bubbles in my chest that were ready to explode turned my voice soft. He’d stopped to ask me to play. That was everything.

  “Sure,” I muttered.

  The other boy stopped and watched, his eyes switching back and forth between us. I hoped he didn’t mind that his friend had stopped to say hi. He might not have wanted to share him or play with me at all.

  “I’m Oliver,” the second boy finally said. “Maddison is my younger my brother.” His voice held so much pride as he introduced himself and his relationship to Maddison. His voice was deeper than Maddison’s, and under both their gazes, I had to force my feet to keep standing in front of them and be strong. The turning in my tummy had grown worse, and I couldn’t resist twisting back to the house for a second, to check it was still in view, in case I had to escape. I kept looking at Oliver, though—his hair was brown, like mine, and he didn’t look like he was Maddison’s brother at all.

  “Hi,” I squeaked.

  “What’s your name?”

  “I’m Grace.” It was barely a whisper, but I didn’t care. To me, I’d been brave enough to get over the nerves that ran all over my body like horrible insects. If I could do that, then I could be friends with them. Not one, but two new friends.

  That introduction, standing in the grass outside my new house, meant
the world to me. I went home feeling taller than when I had gone out to play. It was the missing piece that filled my heart after the move from my old home and set the foundation for my future happiness in my new one.

  For the next four days, all I wanted was to be outside and explore with Oliver and Maddison. They’d worked out which house was mine and sent my excitement into overdrive when they came to call for me the next afternoon. Seeing them behind the front door put a grin on my face even my mum couldn’t remove with her constant hovering.

  She was always careful and was full of questions before she deemed I would be safe in the boys’ company. And she insisted that later on we go and meet their mum. That was almost as exciting as being allowed out to play. I’d find out where they lived, what their house was like, and then maybe I’d be able to go and call for them. With the promise and reassurance from Oliver, as he had a watch, to be back in an hour to go and visit, we were let out. Mum’s watchfulness remained though.

  “What do you want to play, Grace?” Maddison asked as we all sat beneath the big tree that shaded the edge of the river on the other side of the green.

  “I don’t mind. What do you normally play?” I said quickly, pushing the job back to them. What if I suggested something silly and they didn’t want to play with me anymore? Their approval of me and acceptance was so important.

  “Oh, we don’t mind. We can’t play some games as there’s not enough of us. What about freeze tag?”

  “Sure.” At least I knew what that was.

  “Great. I say Oliver is it!” Maddison jumped up and sprinted off. I tried to follow, giggling as I went, and looked over my shoulder for Oliver. My legs ached, and my lungs burned, but it was worth it.

  For the next hour, we raced about, catching each other, releasing and swapping who got to race around. The smell of the sweet grass and the warmth of the sun completed the perfect afternoon. Neither Maddison nor Oliver shouted at each other like the first time I’d watched them. They still wore the smiles they had on the first day, but they swapped the yelling with sniggers of laughter and warnings of ‘run faster’, or ‘you’re it’.

  All too soon, Oliver announced our time was up, and we walked back home. Mum was waiting on the drive for us. “Right then, you two. Want to take us back to yours?”

  They both turned around and started walking, almost running to lead the way. We crossed the green and headed to the far end of the lane. We were just out of view from our house, and then we crossed over the small bridge and followed the road around the corner. We passed a small farm which had a stable and horses in a side paddock. My heart lurched at the thought of learning to ride, and I turned to look at Mum.

  “We’ll see, sweety.” Her smile was soft, and I knew she was thinking the idea through.

  “This is us.” Maddison raced the last few metres up a small gravel driveway to an old cottage. Oliver stayed and walked with Mum and me.

  “Mum! Grace’s mum is here to see you,” Maddison called through the house as we waited in the porch. I wanted to race in after him, but I knew it wasn’t polite, so I stayed put and resisted the urge to put my hand in Mums.

  “Oh, hi. Come in. Come in.” A woman with a warm smile welcomed us. She was a little bit older than my mum. Her hair was curly at the ends and the colour of straw. “You must be Grace.” She looked at me.

  I nodded, and then she looked at my mum.

  “I’m Charlie, Grace’s mum. I hope you don’t mind, but we’re new to the area, and it looks like Grace has made some new friends.”

  “Not at all. I’m Vivien. It’s great that the boys have found a new friend.” Vivien invited us in.

  Their house was much bigger than ours. As we walked in, the back opened up into a huge kitchen with a table to fit the whole family. They had wide glass doors leading out into their garden.

  “Do you want to go and find Maddison? Your mum and I can talk?” Vivien encouraged me to go off, but I looked at Oliver. His lip quirked up at the edge, and he took my hand and pulled me through to the side room and up the stairs.

  “He’ll be in his room. He always is.”

  “Okay,” I said nervously. Oliver hadn’t let go of my hand, and I didn’t know if I liked him holding it or not. It was small, like mine, and clammy, but it made me feel like he wanted to be my friend.

  “This is my room.” We’d stopped on the landing, and he’d pointed at a door, but we didn’t go in. “Maddison?”

  “In here,” Maddison answered, and Oliver led me into the door opposite his. Maddison was sitting at his desk, frantically pressing buttons on a computer game console. He looked very serious, his eyes frowning at the screen.

  “You can play that later. We can play with Grace now.” Oliver tried to get his brother’s attention, but Maddison didn’t seem interested.

  A little of the excitement deflated from my chest realising that Maddison didn’t want to play now we were back at his house.

  “Fine. Be like that. Come on, Grace.” Oliver pulled me out of Maddison’s room and over to his.

  I lingered in the doorway, not sure about entering. The inside stifled the easy freedom that had come from playing outside.

  “Want to see my dragons?”

  “Dragons?” He’d captured my interest the very instant he uttered that word.

  “Well, not real ones. I have these.” He opened a drawer next to his bed and pulled out several small figures—all different. Some small, some big. Their wings were all distinctive shapes, with colours painted on them in patterns. I loved them.

  Oliver spent the next half hour explaining the different names and abilities of all of his dragons. I was in awe, of both the dragons and him. He told me he was two years older than Maddison, and that when I started school on Monday, I’d be in the same class as Maddison. They both went to the local primary school, too.

  Vivien popped her head around the door a while later. I wasn’t keen to stop playing, but I guessed my mum was ready to go.

  “See you at school?” I asked, hopeful that seeing Oliver would make my first day a little more stable.

  “Sure.”

  We went downstairs, and even Maddison came to say goodbye.

  “The boys walk back from school. I’m sure they’d be happy to walk with Grace?” Vivien offered before we left.

  “Oh, thank you. Maybe next year. Grace is a little young at the moment.”

  “I’m the same age as Maddison.” I protested, although as I had no idea where I was walking home from, it wasn’t as powerful as it could have been.

  “We’ll think about it, okay.” She used her ‘don’t push it’ voice, which translated to, ‘I’m not changing my mind’. It was the one thing I wished she’d think about changing. I wasn’t a little girl anymore.

  Mum fussed with my hair and my uniform until I pushed her hands away, forcing her to leave me alone. In the next few minutes, I’d have to walk into my new class with everyone looking at me—staring and asking questions in their heads. It turned the swirly feeling in my stomach into overdrive, and I just wanted to get it over with. I knew Maddison would be in the class, but he hadn’t said much when we’d visited. The genuine happiness at finding friends had faded a little after that, dimming in my chest like a candle burning out.

  Finally, I enter Class Three. And as I cast a shy glance over the room, I saw a big smile from Maddison. He beckoned to me, drawing a magical line to him which I followed and went to sit on the carpet next to him.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Hi,” I whispered back.

  The rest of the day flew past, but Maddison stayed next to me for the entire day. We saw Oliver in the playground at lunch, and he came over to talk with us. The other kids in the class were busy talking about chocolate and holidays, but all I wanted to do was play with the boys.

  When we came back in from lunch, our teacher sat me at a table away from Maddison. I looked back at him and forced the worry away. Nerves were normal. At least, that’s what my mum kept te
lling me. But as I turned away, Maddison moved off his chair and came to sit next to me. He crossed his arms in defiance and didn’t budge.

  Any thought that he might not want to play with me vanished, and I wasn’t worried any longer. He stayed at my table for the rest of the day.

  For the next three months, things played out much the same.

  Mum would walk me to school, even though Oliver and Maddison called for me in the morning. They walked me into the playground, and Maddison didn’t move from my table in class. Every day after school, they walked me home, with my mum a step behind us.

  The weekends became my favourite time. We’d play out in the fresh air and spend every minute we could together. Hide and seek, tag, or any other games we felt like making up. If it was raining, we’d go to the boys’ house. We’d play top-trumps, watch the telly, or draw pictures of dragons we made up in our heads. Oliver told me tales of different worlds he had invented where dragons were real and protected only the noblest and daring of humans or elves.

  We grew inseparable. Desperate to be around each other. Every minute we were allowed to be together, we were. And I’d never been so happy.

  Until everything changed.

  Chapter 2

  Grace Eight Years Old

  The summer holidays arrived, which meant two things: my eighth birthday, and weeks on end with nothing to get in the way of playing with my two best friends.