Free My Heart Lingers (A Hearts of Misty Mesa Story): BWWM Interracial Romance by Brandi Boddie Page A

at the multiple missed calls on her phone. Cole tried to contact her Saturday night and again on Sunday. She listened to two of Cole’s voicemails asking her to return his calls. “Kyra, I’m sorry. We had a misunderstanding. I want to straighten this out. Give me a call when you get this.” On Sunday night, she fought the urge to hit the “call back” option on the touchscreen.
    No, she told herself firmly while she went into the kitchen to pour herself a cup of instant coffee. She didn’t want to speak to Cole, but it had little to do with reading his mother’s letter. It had mostly to do with him and why he thought it was a good idea to mention her past pregnancy.
    They had been getting along well since she first came to town. Maybe a little too well, as she allowed herself to rekindle her old feelings for him. But did those feelings ever truly go away? Kyra studied the area in front of the kitchen sink where she and Cole acted on their feelings. Those few moments of stolen kisses came very easily, as though their decade apart only served to heighten their need for each other.
    Perhaps those kisses were exactly what made Cole want to pick up right where they left off. He needed to talk about the baby who never got to see the light of day. He needed closure.
    A deep sadness washed over Kyra. And maybe, just maybe, closure was all Cole ever wanted. She poured the mediocre-tasting coffee down the sink. Tomorrow after she went down to city hall and filed the youth center’s accreditation paperwork, it would all be over. She could meet with the realtor, get the For Sale sign on the front lawn, and be out of town that same week
    But what place was there for her to go? She didn’t have a job waiting for her in Chicago, no real friends. Most of the people in her social circle were those she met through networking for the firm. News of the scandal reached the local Chicago media last week, and not one person called to ask how she was doing. They wanted to distance themselves from her as much as possible so her mess couldn’t get on their fancy Italian leather shoes.
    Kyra motioned her head in bitterness. “The more things change…”
    She had to rebuild her life from scratch. Once again, she struggled with learning where to start.
     
    ***
     
    City hall opened at nine sharp in the morning. After a quick trip to a public notary at the bank, Kyra walked into the city hall building and waited to go through security check. Once cleared, she carried her shoulder bag past the guards and went forward to the clerk’s office.
    “I’m filing paperwork for the McCrea Youth Arts Center,” she informed the male clerk at the desk. He held up his index finger to signal for her to give him one minute. It was three before he looked up from the computer.
    “Sorry. Had to enter something into the record system. Who’d you say you the file was from?”
    “McCrea Youth Arts Center,” Kyra repeated. She set the stack of papers on the desk. “I’m the attorney who prepared it for them. I already sent the electronic file. This is the hard copy for your records. Everything’s signed and notarized.”
    The clerk rubbed his eyes, slightly red from strain. “Did you go to Crestfield High?”
    Kyra nodded, now used to being stopped and asked the same question over and over. “I’m Kyra Grayson. I’m sorry, but I don’t remember you.”
    “Name’s Seth Rockne. I had history class with you senior year.”
    “Hi, Seth. You’ll have to excuse my bad memory. That class was at first period, and I slept through it almost every day of the school year.”
    Seth laughed. “You said you’re a lawyer? Wow, I didn’t see that coming.”
    Kyra took the high road and made light of his unintentionally offensive remark. “Neither did I. Funny how the world works, isn’t it?”
    “Sure is.” He stamped the documents and scribbled something at the top. “I’ll put this into the system. The youth center should receive a notification from