Bent not Broken

by Lisa De Jong

  Locking the door behind me, I step down the stairs from my porch, stopping suddenly when I see the street lined with cars. They haven’t had a get-together in months. My chest tightens as my eyes scan the cars, and I see Ava’s, Adrian’s, and Luke’s, along with a few others I don’t recognize. As much as I want to see Gabe, I don’t think I have the strength, and my anxiety lessens slightly when I don’t see his truck parked in the driveway, or on the street.

  Shuffling across the street, I tuck my hands into the pockets of my jacket. I’m so nervous and scared, and for the first time since I decided to leave, a wave of nausea overcomes me. Standing at the front door, I raise my hand and knock lightly. I think to myself that if I knock lightly enough, maybe they won’t hear me. I can then leave, knowing that I tried, but was unsuccessful in seeing them. I owe them more than a half-hearted attempt though, so I knock again, this time a bit harder. It seems so weird to knock on the door of a home that was basically mine for over fourteen years. Where I could walk in anytime unannounced. It was my home.

  The door cracks open slightly, and there stands John with a look of disbelief on his face. A small smile washes over his face as the door opens wider, and he pulls me into the house and into his arms, squeezing me tightly. Pulling my hands out from my pockets, I wrap my arms around him in return. This is the first real touch I’ve encountered in weeks. Tears fill my eyes and a lump forms in my throat.

  “Mija, we’ve missed you,” he says, tightening his squeeze. It’s a comforting embrace, and hearing John call me “Mija” warms my heart. They have always considered me their daughter and have never treated me as anything less.

  “I’ve missed you too,” I choke out as a tear slips from the corner of my eye. Pulling out of John’s strong arms, I wipe my cheeks with my fingers and take a deep breath to calm myself.

  “Sit down, please.” John motions to the couch.

  “I can’t,” I say, dropping my eyes to the floor. “I just came to say goodbye.” That lump is back, stuck in the back of my throat, stopping me from saying anything further.

  “Goodbye?” he questions me.

  I nod my head in short, fast movements. “I’m leaving tomorrow morning. I’ve taken an internship on the East Coast,” I say, my hands fidgeting. I’ve always looked to him for guidance and support, and here I am, just telling him what I’m doing.

  He stands, looking at me as he nods his heads slowly, running a hand over his face. Looking up, I notice Angelica standing in the entryway between the living room and kitchen. She’s wiping her hands on a dishtowel.

  “Why so far away?” she questions me as she walks towards me, closing the distance between us.

  Shrugging my shoulders, I can feel my chin quiver as I force the words, “I just have to.” Not able to say anything else, the tears overtake me again and Angelica is now pulling me into a hug.

  “Mija, please,” she begs, hugging me and rubbing my back. “We are here for you. All of us.” I know that she is implying Gabe as well when she says “all of us.”

  “I know,” I whisper back.

  “Then stay. Let us help you,” she pleads with a whisper in my ear.

  “I can’t. I have to do this,” I say, trying to pull out of her arms. She won’t let go, and her hands are now holding my upper arms. Running her eyes over me from head to toe, she studies every inch of me as if it’s the last time she’ll see me, and it very well may be.

  “When is the last time you ate? You look too skinny,” she says, releasing my arms. She offers me a kind smile and a gentle kiss to my cheek before she turns and heads into the kitchen.

  “I should go,” I whisper to John. Standing there, with his arms at his side, he nods his head and looks back towards the kitchen.

  “There are a few folks out back who would be disappointed if they didn’t get to say ‘goodbye’ to you.” I swallow hard, knowing who he means. “They’ve been worried sick about you. You stopped taking their calls and returning their text messages. I hope you will at least go say ‘goodbye’ to them.”

  I know I owe them this. At the very minimum, I owe my best friend, my sister, a goodbye. I nod my head in agreement and move slowly towards the kitchen to the patio door. Just as I’m almost out of the living room, John’s words stop me. “You know you can always come home to us. We will always be here for you.”

  Looking over my shoulder at the man who was more of a dad to me than my own, I offer him a small smile. “Thank you,” I say as I walk into the kitchen. There stands Angelica at the kitchen sink, her hands resting on the counter as she stares through the window into the dark backyard. I’m met with the most mouthwatering aromas as I stand there and watch her. Everything I ate growing up with the Garcias was spread across the counters: enchiladas, tacos, rice, beans. My stomach immediately growls in hunger, but stops quickly when I see the patio door and realize I have to walk out back and say goodbye to Ava.

  I reach for the patio door handle, but stop again to look at Angelica. I can’t help but smile at the woman who raised me, taught me how to cook, comforted me while I was sick, went to my school conferences, and is the closest person I’ll ever have to a mom. For almost fifteen years, she has cared for me like I was her own. Looking at her, I am comforted by her presence, and for the first time, I’m feeling sad to leave the Garcias behind.

  Turning back to the door, I grasp the handle and slide it open. Stepping onto the stained concrete patio, I can hear the sounds of laughter and conversation from the small groups of friends gathered around the fire pit. I scan the backyard, looking for Ava, and find her snuggled under Adrian’s arm.

  As I take in the group of people gathered around the fire pit, my heart thuds rapidly with nervousness but nearly stops altogether when I see him. Gabe has his arms wrapped around a tall, blonde woman, embracing her in a hug. She looks to be around his age and is pencil thin. Her arm is thrown around his neck with her head tipped back, and she’s clearly laughing at something he said to her.

  My heart sinks as I watch him pull out of the embrace with the mystery woman and I see the wide smile that covers his tan face. I can’t do this. I can’t see him with someone else. I’m not strong enough for this. But this is what I want him to do. This is why I asked him to let me go, so he can be happy. My hands are sweating and my eyes fill with tears. An angry heat takes over my body as I feel my chest tighten and struggle to breathe. Turning quickly, I make a run for the patio door just as a firm hand catches my elbow, stopping me before I can move any further. At the very same time that hand connects with my elbow, I hear my name.

  “Jess?”

  Snapping my head in the direction of the body holding me hostage, I see Luke gripping my elbow. He is clearly shocked to see me standing here in his backyard. I try to pull out of his grip, but he tightens his hand around my elbow to keep me from running away. When the sound of my name comes from Luke’s deep yet surprised voice, the backyard goes silent.

  Looking back over my shoulder, I can see everyone has fixed their attention on me. Ava, Adrian, Max, Gabe, and even his leggy girl, who I now recognize as Heather, the EMT from the fire station where Dad, Gabe, and Luke all work. How fucking convenient. As my eyes continue to shift from person to person, Luke breaks the silence.

  “How are you?”

  Glaring at Gabe, who is still standing ridiculously close to Heather, I flash him the meanest look I can. I want him to know I’m pissed, even though I don’t have any right to be. I cut him loose. This is what I wanted.

  “I’m...just leaving,” I say, my voice cracking. “I just came to say goodbye.” My eyes drop to the concrete patio as giant tears spill down my face.

  “Goodbye? Where are you going?” Ava’s voice is frantic as she moves quickly from Adrian’s embrace over to my side. Luke still hasn’t let go of my arm, holding me firmly in place. She is now standing directly in front of me, blocking my exit to the patio door.

  “I leave tomorrow,” I tell her, meeting her glossy eyes. “I’m moving out
East for an internship.” I barely manage to say the words through the lump in my throat.

  “Where?” she asks quietly.

  “Please.” I beg her with my eyes to stop asking me questions I’m not ready to answer. “Just, out East.”

  “Why? Please, stay here. I’ll transfer back. We can get through this—together.” Her voice breaks, and I watch the giant tears spill from my best friend’s eyes. Wiping them with her sleeve, she continues, “We’ll get an apartment together. Just, please don’t go.”

  “I can’t,” I whisper as I watch more tears fall from her eyes. “I have to go.” I jerk my arm back, pulling away from his vise-like grip. I mouth the word “bye” to Ava, who is standing with her hands over her mouth, choking back sobs. Because I’m a glutton for punishment, or maybe because I never stopped loving him, I turn to take one last blurry look at Gabe. Even through my tears, I can see him clearly. His mouth has tightened into a straight line, and he’s stepped forward away from Heather. One of his hands is flexed into a fist and the other is holding a beer bottle that looks as if he could crush it if he squeezed it any harder. I can see the veins in his arms as he’s flexing his hand around the beer bottle.

  As I turn back toward Luke and Ava, I see the side gate is open and know that this is my fastest escape out of this backyard. Taking a deep breath, I gather myself and walk quickly toward the gate, willing myself not to turn around again.

  Just breathe. Just breathe. I keep repeating this to myself over and over in my head. Just breathe. Just breathe. I’ve made it out of the backyard and onto the driveway safely hidden by the fence. I stop and bend over. My stomach is twisting, I feel like I’m going to vomit right here on the driveway. Since I haven’t eaten in three days, it appears I’ll just dry heave here instead. Just breathe for fuck sake. I feel like I got the wind knocked out of me. I try to catch my breath as my stomach coils.

  As I stand up, there is a violent crash and glass breaking, along with raised voices, and seconds later, more glass breaking. Walking as fast as my legs will take me, I cross the street. Stepping onto my front patio, I turn around to look one last time across the street to the house where every good memory of my childhood resides.

  Opening my front door, I step in and shut the world out again. Collapsing onto my couch, I curl myself into a ball and cry. I have no reason to be mad at Gabe. I pushed him away. I broke up with him. But it killed me to see him hugging Heather, and it hurt me to know he could move on so quickly. The vision of him hugging her is burned into my memory as I try to fall asleep.

  For hours, I lie on my couch, whispering words to Gabe that he’ll never hear. How much I love him, how much he deserves to be happy, and how proud I am of him. Words he’ll never hear because I’m too weak to talk to him, and I pushed him into the arms of another woman. Sleep finally finds me as I feel the last tear roll down my face.

  Chapter 24

  Gabe

  “What did she say?”

  My heart is going to beat out of my fucking chest. I can feel it bouncing off the walls of my ribs. I saw the look of pain, of utter disgust, on her face when she saw me hugging Heather. Fuck. I couldn’t hear what she was saying to Luke or to Ava, but she was crying. I tried to move closer, to hear her voice, but before I even had time to think, she was gone.

  “God dammit, what the fuck did she say?” I yell this time.

  “She’s leaving,” Ava chokes in between sobs, tears still falling down her face.

  “What do you mean she’s leaving? Where is she going?”

  “Out East. That’s all she said, out East,” Ava cries, her eyes glistening with tears.

  At this moment, every ounce of self-control I’ve ever had vanishes. I take my beer bottle and, as hard I can, toss it at the side of the brick garage. I’ve never seen glass explode and shatter like that green beer bottle did. People near me duck, and back away. I’m like an out of control animal. My heart is beating violently, and rage courses through me.

  I grab another beer bottle that’s sitting on the table and throw it against the garage, shattering that bottle as well. Just as I’m looking for a third one, Luke grabs my arm and pulls me away from the table. Everyone is yelling at me to calm down. Calm down? The only person I have ever truly loved is moving out East, wherever the fuck that is, and I’m supposed to just calm down?

  Luke now has me in a bear hug so that I can’t destroy anything else, and Ava is holding onto my arm. “Please, stop,” she cries.

  I’m breathing so fast and so shallow that I feel like I could pass out. My head is dizzy, mostly from rage, and I’m sure the beer hasn’t helped. Feeling my chest rising and falling with every sharp breath I take, Luke continues to hold me in this position for a couple of minutes while my mind has time to absorb everything that just happened. As my breathing settles, Luke lessens his grip on me until he lets me go altogether.

  “Sorry everyone,” I say, pulling away from the small group that is now watching me as I walk straight to the patio door. Sliding it open, I move quickly through the house and up to my room, the room I don’t stay in anymore. Shutting my door, I lock it and sit down at the only thing left in this room, my wooden desk. Leaning forward, I drop my head into my hands and fight to control my emotions. I can’t believe she’s leaving. She’s really leaving. A million thoughts are racing through my head. I know she won’t talk to me, or listen to me, but I have so much to say and so much to tell her before she leaves.

  My laptop is at Luke’s apartment, but I won’t let her leave without telling her exactly how I feel. Opening the desk drawer, I pull out some paper and a pen. Pushing the stacks of notebooks aside, I start writing. She may be leaving, but she will never be able to run from my heart.

  Chapter 25

  Jess

  “Jess, I know you think this is a good idea, and I promised you that I wouldn’t tell anyone where you’re going, but are you really sure this is what you want to do?” Dad asks quietly. I stare at him, and all I see in his eyes is regret. I don’t want to regret my life.

  “Dad, I have to do this. I have to move forward, and I can’t do that here. There is too much pain here. I’m suffocating,” I say, my voice void of any emotion.

  Dad nods his head slowly in agreement. “You going to go say goodbye?” he asks, shifting his head back in the direction of the Garcia house across the street. My eyes sting with the tears forming in my eyes, and the large lump in my throat will barely allow me to talk.

  “I did last night.” I think about Gabe in Heather’s arms, the yelling, and the breaking bottles. “It didn’t go so well.”

  With a deep sigh, Dad walks toward me and pulls me into a tight hug. I can’t remember the last time he touched me, let alone hugged me. Dad doesn’t show his emotions; he’s a master of disguise when it comes to displaying any emotion. I snuggle my head into the crook of his neck and let the man, the father I barely know, hold me and comfort me for the first time in fourteen years. He didn’t hug me after I was raped. He didn’t hold me when I was young and sick with a fever, but today, I let him hug me, and I try to bury the anger I have toward him and simply find comfort in his arms.

  The hug is warm and caring and loving, and exactly what I need from him. This is confirmation that after everything I’ve been through in the last eight weeks, that he does love me and supports me and my decision. Dad pulls out of our embrace first, grabbing both of my cheeks like I’m a little girl again. Raising my head so that I’m looking at him in the eyes, he says, “I’m so proud of you. You are the strongest person I know. I mean that. I’m so blessed that you are my daughter. Your mom would be so…” He pauses while collecting his thoughts. “…so proud of you. You remind me so much of her, Jess. Your mannerisms, your laugh, even the way you walk. You are exactly like her.” His voice breaks.

  This is progress for him. In fourteen years, he has never talked to me about her. When I was young, I would ask him questions, and he always found a way to distract me and not talk about her. Wrapping h
is arm around my shoulder, he guides me to my car, giving firm instructions to call every three hours from the road and every time I stop for gas. Giving him one last hug, I slide into the driver’s seat and buckle my seatbelt.

  Backing out of the driveway, I will myself not to look in the rearview mirror at the house across the street, the house that holds my heart. But I do. Out of my side mirror, I see him sitting on his front step. His head is hanging, and his arms are resting on his knees. With a deep breath, I put the car in drive, wave to my dad, and head east, hoping for the strength and sanity to start over while a small piece of my heart dies as I see Gabe grow smaller in my rearview mirror.

  ****

  Exhaustion does not even begin to explain what I’m feeling. I just spent three days driving from coast to coast, literally—Pacific Ocean to Atlantic Ocean. Arriving in Wilmington, North Carolina, I head straight to the TV station where I will be interning. I am meeting my new boss, Kevin, for the first time. He is renting his small, mostly furnished condo to me. Kevin is also the General Manager of the TV station where I will be spending most of my time, working and building my resume.

  The TV station is a small local affiliate. This means I’ll be working long days for no pay, but walking away with a shit-ton of experience. I won’t be just serving coffee and answering phones. I’m actually welcoming the long hours as a form of distraction, a mental health break from the chaos that is consuming my head.

  Pulling into the parking lot of WXZI, I pull into the first open spot marked “visitor.” Shifting my SUV into park, I roll up the window and flip my visor down. Taking a long look at myself in the mirror, I assess the damage. Fortunately, I travel well. I don’t look awful, just tired.

  I grab my purse and pull out my lip-gloss, smoothing it over my lips. I tussle my hair to give it a little body and decide that this is as good as it’s going to get for a Tuesday afternoon.

  I open my car door and slide out. My legs are stiff from the last six hours of driving, so I stop to stretch a bit. As I make my way towards the large glass doors of the station, I find the main doors are locked. Noticing a small call box on the brick to the right of the entrance, I push the button, and a man answers, “WXZI, how can I help you?”