"TWICE IN THE SAME WEEK?" Doc arches an eyebrow when I stomp into his shop. "That's some sort of record."
"I'm glad you're in a good mood, Doc, but I'm starting to think that you wasted your time with me."
"And why is that?"
"Because some broken things can't be put back together." I push my hand against a nearby car, suddenly exhausted. My hair falls into my eyes, hiding my face from Doc's view.
His footsteps thud in my direction. "People come to me with broken things." He tucks one finger into a rag and swipes. "Sometimes, those things can be repaired. Sometimes, they can't. But the only hope for fixing what's broken is bringing it into the shop."
I wilt against the car. "Harriet saw someone from my past." "An old girlfriend or…?"
I glance up. "The last woman I broke up with before I started putting my all into my marriage."
