Shattered Love: Book one of the Forever us series

by Nivia Borell

  “Hey, that wasn’t a question. It was more like an affirmation,” I say feigning irritation.

  He tickles me before asking me so seriously, his eyes penetrating my soul. “Would it matter, B?”

  My answer is biting my bottom lip and a shy shake of my head. His entire attitude switches once again to self-assurance and control. He’s such a bastard, but he is my bastard, and I adore him.

  “I will only marry the love of my life,” he exclaims. “It doesn’t matter if I ask or say it because the love of my life would never doubt me nor my intentions and never my feelings. Plus, it’s not like you would say no, now, would you, baby?” And with a smirk, he lifts me up to straddle him and lavishes my face with gentle kisses. That causes only one effect every time—an army of butterflies takes up residence in my belly, and then passionate, wild ones steal my breath away. He knows I’m his, and I don’t mind at all.

  “Well, mister, since you put it so damn eloquently, I wouldn’t stand a chance.”

  He beams, and I lock my arms around his neck playing with the ends of his hair. Damien pecks the corners of my lips which are curved into a grin and melts my insides.

  It’s one of the most treasured memories I possess. We made love that day for the first time. It was real, sweet, and innocent, and it’s how we sealed the deal. I gave him another part of myself, and I would continue offering him parts of myself until I took my final breath, and he gave me himself in return.

  Afterward, Damien presented me with a gold necklace. It was heart-shaped with two barn owls engraved on it, and the wings of the owls formed the heart with their heads touching. One had blue eyes, and the other had hazel eyes. He had designed it himself because of the symbolism, and he said I deserved something unique. Apparently, barn owls find their other half, and the bond lasts a lifetime. On the back of the necklace are engraved the words which will haunt me for my entire life— B, you are my forever in eternity.

  The necklace was a promise of our future, and we would be it for each other for our entire lives. It was also appropriate since on that day, the eighteenth of August, we were celebrating his birthday, and our fourth anniversary of being each other’s everything.

  Two years later, he began to celebrate his birthday on August nineteenth instead. I heard he always disappeared on August eighteenth, and no one knew where he was or what he did.

  I stopped wearing my necklace and having birthday parties as well. Everything became nothing in the blink of an eye.

  BRIA

  Present day…

  As I let the past go, and as the memory fades away, I answer Sophia’s comment about keeping an eye on the guys, “How suitable. Well, let’s hope Damien behaves, Sophia, until Monica comes back.” I ask myself if she wanted to gain a reaction from me by mentioning Monica, or if it was a matter of fact for her. I shake my head at my assumption of importance.

  “Sophia, have a great night and party yourself into oblivion.” I am about to swirl on my heels when I notice my words have stirred a reaction in her. My eyes widen as hers reek of determination. She grips my arm, so I have to turn toward her as her gaze drills into me.

  “Does it work for you, Bria?”

  I try to discern what she’s asking me, but because undiluted stupor engulfs me, I push her too by muttering, “What exactly, Sophia?” Her lips contour into a fake smile, and, of course, it’s aimed at me. Well, people, I am that awesome. I bring out the absolute worst in people. Where is the champagne to celebrate my maddening skills? Ugh.

  “Are you happy enjoying your oblivion, Bria?”

  I realize she has no clue about my condition. It’s the best-kept secret possible, similar to FBI material which is filed in a secret folder under lock and key, never to emerge or be inquired about by the general public.

  “Sophia, I’m oblivious as to what you’re suggesting because I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

  She raises a brow and crosses her slender arms, her jaw is set. After I inhale a deep breath, I articulate, “Sophia, I keep the past in the past because it’s where it belongs, and we both know it. I made my decisions a long time ago. I have no time for reminiscing something long forgotten.”

  Wow! I think. That was a low blow. Her cheekbones and neck turn fire red as her chest expands, and I hug myself in response to the wrath of Sophia du Sky for the seven-year-old bottled wrath. I hope it won’t leave scars on the outside. On the inside, I beg for them as they will be a nice addition to my collection.

  Then, her whole expression dulls and shifts into something I’m not prepared for and freeze—acceptance, softness, and understanding. I’m not so sure anymore if my heart will survive the events of tonight. Maybe this time, a heart attack with no doctor around will finally offer me what I crave like an addict who doesn’t know where to get her next fix. Well, my drug of choice, except for wine, is peace. I’m unprepared for what Sophia tells me next.

  “Bria, you were like a sister to me. You broke my heart. Do you realize what the consequences are of your so-called decisions?”

  My jaw drops. My hand vaults to my heart, and I hate she’s noticed my slip before I resume my stoic position. Her face lights in challenge as the blows keep coming in the worst way possible, delivered with a broken voice full of affection. And now I have to take it because I gave her the ammunition she needed. Her brother would be so damn proud of her. Me, I simply scan the room for the exit until her words drag my attention back to her.

  “Are you at least happy, Bria? Is your life the way you envisioned it? Because you can pretend as much as you want that you stopped being the same person seven years ago. And yes, it seems you are so damn good at pretending so no one can see the difference. But, hey, I see you when you let your focus slip for even one second. In that second, I notice the shell you are, the emptiness inside you. Do you know when I see how broken you truly are? When you work like a robot every damn day for… how long, Bria? Fourteen to eighteen hours a day? Do you think I’ve forgotten how you enjoyed life, and now everything revolves around work and more work? Yes, we all identify you as a badass. You and my brother succeeded in expanding triple so fast as when our fathers were in charge. I resented you so much for so long, but in the end, the problem is that hate is measurable. Hate can never outlive love. So I gave up hating you and put you in a box with all my happy memories along with sixteen years of blissful life. It’s a special box for someone special… for you. Do you at least care, anymore? Was I nothing to you? I looked up to you. You were my role model. What you and my brother had was what I dreamed for every night… to find my soulmate in my best friend. So, why, Bria? I just want to know why.”

  For a few moments, I wonder if my shield will crack and with it my sanity. Her words, although true in their essence, feel like poisoned arrows directed toward my ill heart. A sigh escapes my dry mouth.

  “Why now, Sophia? Do you think it will set you free? What do you want to achieve from our conversation?”

  “Bria, you stopped partying altogether seven years ago. You don’t even celebrate your birthday, anymore. And now this… this place? How it looks, the flowers you chose, the decorations.”

  Her words are only magnified by her dramatic show of waving with her hands around us like I was blind to the decorum I chose. She continues, “And let’s not forget the name of the party… Oblivion. It’s like you’re saying goodbye while you’re still alive. Although my regards to the catering firm. Sarah did well in hiding the whole macabre touch to a point, or did you have an epiphany and embraced the gothic style?”

  As Sophia draws her brows together, I realize she’s always been very perceptive, but I never guessed how her perception has improved with time. Although she’s the head of the human resources department and always has good instincts regarding people—something like a sixth sense heightened by education—I’ve never feared she could observe anything other than what I purposely displayed. I assume I was wrong and conceited, I might add.

  “Sophia, believe what yo
u wish,” I say in a matter-of-fact tone.

  “Stop it, Bria, just stop it! I can’t take it anymore. Just please. I am begging you. You owe me, and you know it.”

  Raw pain clouds her delicate features. In the middle of the vibrating floor, covered by dancing and tangled bodies, and with her in my face as we’re eye to eye but with masks hiding the thick tension brewing around us, I grip her upper arm and yell, “Do you want me to admit what we both already know? That what I did almost destroyed everyone? So, okay, yes, I owe something to the whole family, but you’re the first, and I’m sure the only one, who has asked the forbidden question. In fact, all of you decided the same thing… never to bring it up.”

  “All of us? What does that mean, anyway? Didn’t you need a coping mechanism? Why?” Interest transforms her expression.

  “Let’s just say, Sophia, that I have another coping mechanism. It’s my salvation and my curse, and I will live with the consequences for the remainder of my life.”

  I snatch my gaze away from her demanding one. It’s too much. Everything’s so raw, and the sheer intensity plays havoc with my heart, and it unnerves me. We’re both bleeding, and we have no bandages.

  “Where were you, Bria, when everything fell apart? And let’s not forget it fell apart because of you. Where were you during the first year? You were not in America for three years living the Upper-East-Side life in Manhattan. Where were you when my brother swam in alcohol, more drunk than awake for six straight months, and when our parents had not only to run the company but also find a solution for the fucked-up mess you left behind?”

  My mouth drops at her cuss.

  “Your brother is more than fine,” I retort as I scrunch my nose. “Everything with the company is in top condition. Our parents have always managed to function in worst-case scenarios, so why, Sophia, don’t you let the past rest?”

  Her expression hardens at my harsh answer.

  “My brother is fine? Are you, like… out of your damn mind?”

  That’s her second curse only highlighted by her finger pointed at my chest, eyes blazing with fury, and her nostrils flaring. I think right here and now my mask will melt and slip.

  “Do you know he dreamed of you every night and woke up screaming your name? His best friend became a bottle of Lagavulin 12 whiskey as nothing would alleviate his pain or fill the hole you left in the place of his beating heart.”

  Her words rip my heart from my chest, and I can almost feel it in her hand pumping weaker by the second as if bleeding out the last drop which ensures my life.

  It’s worse than I’d imagined.

  She’s not finished ranting as she winces and continues, “After months when I thought I’d lost him, too, he woke up one morning like another person. He moved out and arose to become a notorious and heartless playboy. A cold man. His eyes were like those of a soulless madman. When I told him that he scared me and I didn’t recognize him anymore, he deadpanned with a blank look on his face and said, ‘Good, because I got rid of that person.’”

  She’s fighting back the tears shimmering in her eyes. In a moment, she adds through a pained exhale, “He buried that man in a certain hotel room with a certain person. Then he returned to his chosen residence, London, and in only a few months, I’d lost two of the most important people in my life.” Her lips quiver as I have an out-of-body experience and am frozen in time.

  “Well, the last time I was with him, he professed his love to Monica. She’s his salvation. Aren’t you happy about that?” I pause to exorcise the recollection of that night. I glare at her. “It’s been seven years, Sophia. What do you expect from me? We adapted pretty well, I would say.” My mouth feels like sandpaper.

  Her brows snap together as she shrieks. “He loved only one person his entire life, and that was you. You, Bria, were his destruction because you turned his capacity to love again off.” Her lips contour into a grotesque sneer. “And Monica has come to accept it, I guess. This has to be the only reason she succeeded in ‘taming’ him, as everyone believes. But to answer your question… no, I’m not happy because my brother lost his happiness seven years ago.”

  “Why did you tell me all this? What do you think you’ll achieve, Sophia?” I ask as she draws her lower lip between her teeth.

  “The truth? To finally understand what happened.”

  “You know what happened. My so-called dirty little affair. The truth will set no one free, I guarantee you.”

  I don’t know how long I can keep up with her until the last pieces of my sanity disappear, but I remember a determined Sophia is an unstoppable force.

  Sophia fidgets with her fingers. “Oh, of that I am certain. But I wish to hear your side of the story. So tell me.”

  “Let’s make a deal. I will grant you some answers. You can have three questions and no more, so use them well, Soph. But after I satisfy this rather sick desire you have, and believe me the answers are not pretty, and I can bet you’ve never imagined what they are, you will turn around and never ask about it again. And you will tell no one about it because this conversation never took place. Do you agree?”

  “I agree to your conditions, I swear. Now for your part. Where were you, Bria?”

  Grabbing her hand, I let the warmth chase away the cold from mine and lead her through cheering voices and bobbing heads, hidden faces and bodies grinding under the spell of pummeling beats. I halt as I reach our destination and unlock the door with a light hand tremor of the relaxation area in the bathroom.

  With questioning wide eyes, Sophia follows as we’re met by large mirrors spread throughout the entire place with white marble and golden accents adding to the luxurious area. A lonely violet cushioned, curvy couch is set in the middle. Different scents ranging from sweet to fresh are heavy in the air, turning my stomach. I gesture toward the couch, but she shakes her head and opts to lean against the basin. We aren’t two women trying to freshen up, rather we are indulging in a little innocent chat. I lock the door and lean against the powder-white wall.

  “You wanted to know. I’ll show you first.” I take off my shirt and shed it on the couch. I squeeze my thighs as Sophia peers at my battle scars exposed by the blinding spotlights in the ceiling. Above my heart, covered in a heart-shaped barn owl tattoo, she could see what I was hiding, the scars from my heart surgery. Chills erupt, and my whole skin is a field of goosebumps.

  Her face sinks. She puts her hand over her open mouth and tears cascade down her cheeks. One visual, and her emotions flow like water from a faucet. I take hold of myself as I tear my eyes away from the hideous reflection of my scars as I confess about my condition.

  “I was giving up the fight for life in a hospital bed, wishing for peace. That’s what I was doing, Sophia, after I was diagnosed with broken heart syndrome. I had multiple heart attacks over the months. They operated on me two times, but the damage was too severe. The result… a weak heart.”

  “But how? I mean, you were always so healthy?” Her question is hushed as her forehead creases.

  “Thank you for making your question so easy for me. Now, that’s a simple one. It’s how my heart reacted when I lost the love of my life. It gave up and ceased beating. I was in a coma. It was the only way to keep me alive between the heart attacks and surgeries. It’s what happens, Sophia, when your life shatters into a million pieces before your eyes. My heart failed the moment I saw your brother’s expression transform from adoration to hatred. It happened within seconds without my knowing what caused it until I looked beside me. The world I knew ended when this guy opened his mouth and said, “Thank you for the most amazing night of my life,” bounced up, got dressed, and disappeared. And I don’t even recall his name because I can’t remember a thing that happened, Sophia. That night is a blur in my head. I’ve tried so damned hard to remember what happened, but nothing comes to me.” Saying it out loud makes my entire body shiver. It’s as if I go through the wreckage of my life once more. I put my arms around me as Sophia mirrors my posture.

/>   “I only know for sure that I adored your brother, and I would never have cheated on him because I never belonged to anyone else. I’ve always been his. And then I woke up to the nightmare that became my life.” All the while, I focused on her blinking blue eyes, and it grounded me and offered me a fleeting sense of peace. It was just a memory. I wasn’t in that hotel room anymore. I repeat it like a mantra as I continue, “When I got home, I wasn’t the same anymore. And in the next days, I had the first heart attack of many to come. My dysfunctional heart just one of the two conditions I have. I am ill and ceased caring whether I live or die seven years ago. And I have never cared much about my health again because I deserve this.

  “I hope I’ve set you free once and for all. I think I’ve paid the debt, and now, Sophia, please leave and forget about it.” My eyes collide with the ones in the mirror as I watch my sagging shoulders, my hooded eyes, and my crestfallen face, almost a shock as I study myself. I shut my eyes trying to shove the vision of the past from my mind.

  “I have one more question left. You promised me three answers, Bria,” Sophia murmurs, her face drained of color and her voice meek as she chews on her lower lip.

  “Do you still love him, Bria?”

  My heart flutters, and my breathing speeds up. I never expected this question, not in a million years.

  What is wrong with the people in my life?

  Two different people asking me the same question in one night?

  My palm slams on the marbled washbowl as I shout, “I’m incapable of feeling anything, usually,” I say as my eyes catch her quivering lower lip and glossy eyes, “and when it happens, it’s always pain. When my brain fought for my life, it formed walls and shields around me, and gave me another condition of not being able to feel a damn thing anymore except for pain. Pain is the evidence of not being dead, of still being alive. Part of me went on even though altered, and in the end, it will be my damnation as I’ve had enough of it over the years. But Sophia, Damien was the love of my life, and I loved him until my heart gave up on him and my love for him just so I could function again. Pain is what I feel when I think of your brother, excruciating agony every time I see or hear about him or when he looks at me as if seeing through me. Realizing he will marry… well, at this point, I know when his marital life commences, it will be the end of mine. Hurt for what he did to me one year ago…”