Bent not Broken

by Lisa De Jong

  “Okay, your mother is waiting for you. I’ll write up your discharge paperwork, and you’re free to go. If you feel abnormal pain or are bleeding excessively, you should contact me immediately. Also, I’ll need to see you in two weeks to follow-up, and, Mia, I’m very sorry.” Nodding my head again because that’s all I could do, I watched as he turned and walked out the door.

  The nurse returned a few moments shortly after Dr. Lee left. She handed me a cup of ice water, and I gulped it, almost choking on the cold that was soothing my dry throat. She also gave me a bag with clothes that my mother brought for me. The bag contained jeans, a blue t-shirt, and flip-flops. The jeans and shirt were a little loose, but the flip-flops fit perfectly. When I was finished dressing, the nurse returned with a wheelchair. She wheeled me through the halls, and I kept my head lowered the entire ride.

  Before the procedure, my mother was able to visit me. We talked for only fifteen minutes before I was taken to the prep room. We cried about the miscarriage together. She asked about him—if I wanted her to call him. I told her we were no longer together, and she didn’t ask any questions after that. I guess she didn’t want to seem too pushy. Maybe she felt she needed to earn the privilege of my confiding in her.

  No matter how close our relationship develops, I would never disclose everything. There were things between him and me that were too personal and confidential that would always be just between the two of us.

  The nurse locked the wheelchair in place once we exited the building and entered into the pick-up lot of the hospital. My mother was already up front in her old beat-up Toyota Camry with the passenger door opened. She rushed to my side, scooping her arm through mine. We walked to her car, and I got in. Closing the door, she thanked the nurse and took her place behind the wheel.

  Shifting to place her seatbelt on, she quickly glanced at me. She sighed and leaned the side of her temple against the headrest. Reaching out her fingers, she tugged a piece of hair behind my ear. “Are you hungry?” she whispered.

  The softness of her tone forced tears to spring my eyes. I shook my head. Food was the last thing I wanted or needed. Shifting away from her, I stared out the passenger window. The rest of the ride was in silence.

  When we finally reached her tiny two-bedroom apartment, I just wanted to lie down and fall asleep again. When we entered her place, she hurried around to grab fresh towels and blankets. I stood in the living room. Well it was the living room, dining room, and kitchen all-in-one. With my arms hugging my chest, I admired how she took a small place and made it welcoming and warm.

  I wasn’t sure how long I would stay. As much as I liked her place, it wasn’t home. Though when I thought of home, my first thought wasn’t the place I shared with Jeremy. It was his place, and my eyes burned as fresh tears began to form once again. How much could one person cry, not just here and there, I mean really cry for several hours straight? I had a feeling I’d spend the next few weeks crying, and the thought seemed exhausting.

  Sara entered the small room and guided me to where I would be staying. The room could possibly be the size of my walk-in closet. It only fit a futon and a dresser. I watched as she pulled the metal frame, transforming the sofa into a full-sized bed, making the already tiny room smaller. Placing the blankets and pillows she held on top of the bed, she glanced over at me and shrugged. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not the best place to sleep.” Shaking my head, I walked over and hugged her as tightly as I could. She returned the embrace.

  “It’s great, thank you for everything, Sara. I appreciate your letting me stay here awhile.” I whispered.

  Pushing away, she held me by the shoulders. “Of course, Mia, it’s the least I could do. I’m glad you’re here … well not under these circumstances. Get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.” Leaning in, she pressed her lips against my forehead. I’m not sure why that small motion brought him to mind. It was a gesture he always used, and when Sara closed the door behind her, I sank into the futon.

  With soft sobs, I drenched the pillow until I drifted into a deep sleep, dreaming of him. I hoped that if I closed my eyes tightly enough I would wake in his bed, wrapped in his arms, laughing and giggling as he tickled my belly, bringing his lips close, singing our baby a lullaby. Yes, this nightmare was just a dream, and soon I’d awaken.

  Unfortunately I was forced back into reality when I woke the next day. With burning, dry eyes, I stared at the ceiling the rest of the morning. Sara knocked a few times, but I didn’t answer. I could hear the door screech open. She whispered my name, but I kept my eyes shut, hoping she’d go away. Eventually she did. I wasn’t ready to face the real world. Instead I wanted to dwell in my misery. Here in this tiny box, I was safe and away from everything else. Nothing could hurt me in here—nothing but my haunting thoughts.

  Sara grew impatient when day two came around and I hadn’t moved from the bed. After opening the door, she sank down beside me. I opened my eyes when I realized she was not giving up. Her soft smile brightened her eyes. Her eyebrows pulled in, and her lips pouted at my resistance in acknowledging her with the same greeting.

  “Sweetie, you can’t stay in here forever. You haven’t eaten a thing. How about you take a nice long hot shower, while I make us some dinner?” I wasn’t hungry, nor did I want to take a shower. However her sad eyes grew in sorrow, and I didn’t want anyone to feel sorry for me. So I caved in, lifting myself onto my elbows, and I nodded. Smiling a little brighter, she stood and closed the door behind her.

  The warm shower soothed my aching body. Massaging the cloth along my skin, I stared blankly at one of the pink tiles in front of me. The day he opened up to me was in the shower when he told me about his involvement with the Sorrentos. Everything reminded me of him. After all the things we’d been through, I knew I’d miss everything about him: the way he would enter the shower uninvited, wickedly grinning as he would take over and wash me himself; those big brown eyes, the way they looked into mine; and the way he held me at night, tightly against his chest, whispering how much he loves me in my ear. Deep down I knew I would never get over him. He would always hold a special place in my heart. He would always be the love of my life.

  ****

  My mother busied away by the stove as I sat on the tiny table for two. Gulping down water, I hadn’t realized how dehydrated I was. As she slammed away on the pots and pans, I heard a small buzzing sound. The sound grew louder. Sara turned around giving me an apologetic smile. I eyed her questioningly. “I hope you don’t mind, but your phone was going crazy all night, so I placed it on vibrate. It’s on the charger by the window over there.” She pointed to the window by the couch then turned and went back to her cooking.

  I dreaded walking over to the phone. I knew what I’d find, and I wasn’t sure I was ready to confront it. Taking a few deep breaths, I found the courage to stand and head toward the window. A small blue light flicked on and off as it did to notify me when I missed any calls or received any messages. I took the phone off the charger and sat on the couch. Staring at the black screen for a few seconds, I tried to mentally prepare myself. After one more deep breath, I pressed the side button. The screen lit, and it revealed that I had several missed calls, voice messages and text messages. My heartbeat began to rapidly pick up its pace.

  Deciding to view missed calls first, I noticed I had too many to count from Marcus. Just seeing his name on the screen made nervous butterflies flutter in my stomach. There were a few missed calls from Jeremy as well. That led me to believe that Marcus went by my place as I expected. Thankfully I was at the hotel and now here. I wouldn’t have been able to handle the sight of him. I viewed the text messages without reading them. There were several from him and a few from Jeremy. Deciding to skip Marcus’, I viewed only a couple of Jeremy’s messages.

  JEREMY (6:00am) yesterday: What’s going on Mia?

  JEREMY (8:30am) today: I’m worried. Call me. Please.

  Oh God, I wonder what Marcus had said to him. Placing the phone to m
y ear, I hesitantly listened to Jeremy’s voice messages. “Mia, I don’t know what’s going on, but Marcus was just here. He was … I never seen him like this. He’s going crazy. He said the two of you had gotten into a huge argument, and you left. Mia, please call me. I want to know you’re safe.”

  The next two were similar, but on the third one, Jeremy was leaving a message, “Mia, can you please call me,” when my entire body froze as I heard Marcus in the background, “I will not leave, Jae. I have to hear she’s okay!” Then Jeremy said, “Dude calm down, I’m trying to find out. Ugh, Mia, please call me. I need to know you’re okay. Please.”

  Maybe because I wasn’t expecting it, or maybe it was the desperate need in Marcus’ tone, but hearing his voice made my heart skip and pick up in speed. I felt faint hearing him. I decided to wait to actually hear Marcus’ messages. If I couldn’t handle that little piece, there was no way I was ready to hear what he had to say.

  Biting on my thumbnail, I sat on the couch a little longer and wondered if I should pick up the phone and call Jeremy or shoot him a text to let him know I was … What am I? I’m not okay. I’m definitely not fine. Sara was still in the kitchen, so I decided to call Jeremy privately from the closet-sized bedroom.

  I nervously paced in the small room as the phone rang. I was going to hang up on the third ring when Jeremy eagerly answered the phone. “Mia?” I could hear the fear in his voice.

  “Yes.” I whispered.

  Sighing in relief, he said, “Jesus, Mia, I’ve been freaking out! Where are you? Come home.”

  Stopping, I sank into the futon. “Jeremy, I’m fine. Well not really, but I’ll be fine. I can’t come home yet. I’m not ready to face him.”

  He was silent over the phone for a second. “Yeah, he’s here you know, but asleep. He won’t leave. He sleeps by the door, hoping you’ll walk in soon.” Letting out a deep breath, he continued. “Are you sure you okay? Do you need me to bring you anything? Some clothes? Any of your things?”

  “No, um, I’m afraid he’ll somehow follow you. I’ll buy whatever I need. I’m not sure how long it will be before I’m home, Jeremy, but I’ll keep you updated. Just let him know that you spoke with me, and that I’m okay. Maybe that will keep him out of your hair.”

  He lowered his tone to almost at a whisper. “He’s waking up now. Okay, I’ll let him know. Love you, be safe.”

  Swallowing back tears, I whispered, “I love you too, Jeremy.” He ended the call.

  ****

  After a quiet dinner with my mother, I hibernated back in the bedroom. I felt extremely bad. I knew she was trying, but it was so hard for me to try back. I couldn’t laugh at her jokes or engage in conversation. I was too distracted. My mind would wander off when she began to talk. I thought of Jeremy and how he was handling Marcus. I also wondered if Marcus was drunk at this very moment.

  Before me, he didn’t know how to handle his emotions, so he poured it into drinking. Then when he met me, he poured it into sex. Now that he doesn’t have me, did he go back to drinking, or was he still pouring it into sex but with others? That thought upset my stomach.

  I sat on the bed, my back leaning against the wall, my knees up against my chest. I knew I shouldn’t do it. I knew that I’d just be setting myself up for another night of full-blown tears, but I couldn’t help it. Placing the phone on top of the pillow, I laid my head next to it, and lowering the volume, I heard his voice through the speaker as I listened to his messages.

  The first message was right after I left him. “Mia, please come back. We need to talk. Please, don’t drive while you’re upset. Please call me. I love you so much.” He choked on the last sentence.

  “Mia, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I wish I could go back and change everything. I wish I could make it better. I know I fucked up. Please call me back. I love you.”

  “I know you don’t want to speak with me. I completely understand, but please let me know you’re okay. I can wait till you’re ready to speak to me. Just please send me a text. I have to know you’re safe. Please don’t shut me out. I love you so much, Mia. Please. I’m begging.”

  The next few were similar with him apologizing and pouring out his love for me. Listening to his broken voice made my heart ache. The most recent message was not long ago. I left my phone in the room after speaking with Jeremy. Marcus called during dinner. He called after Jeremy told him that we spoke.

  He spoke in a low tone. His words broke my heart as I heard the sadness in his voice. “I spoke to Jeremy. He said he’d talked to you. I’m relieved you’re safe. I thought maybe something might have happened to you.” He paused and continued in a raspy, out-of-order tone. “Mia, I know you hate me. I know there’s nothing I can do to change that. I just want you to know that you and our peanut mean everything in this world to me. Without you, I’m nothing. I will always be here for you, no matter what, and I know it’s best the two of you stay away from me.” I cried along with him on the last sentence. “Make sure to tell our baby that his father loves him every day of his life, just like I will always love you every single day.” The call ended.

  Burying my face into the pillow, I sobbed in soft, painful screams.

  I have to tell him.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  After listening to that message for the hundredth time, I worked up the courage to send Marcus a text message over two weeks later. I told him that I needed to talk to him and to meet me at a coffee shop near the university.

  A public place should prevent us from breaking down hopefully. A week ago my mother picked up my vehicle from the hospital parking lot. Still not having the courage to go home, I decided to stay with her until today. Packing the few things I had left, she sat on the bed and watched me load my small duffel bag. She looked sad that I’d be going back home.

  “Sara, thank you, again, for all of this. You know you’re welcome to stop by my place anytime.” I wanted her to know that just because I was leaving didn’t mean it was the last she’d see of me.

  “I know. Hey, my niece, well your cousin, will be moving here from Philly. She’ll be staying with me awhile until she can find a job and get herself situated. She’s close to your age. Maybe we can all go out for dinner, and you can show us around?”

  I softly smiled. “Yeah, that sounds nice.” Not really. Don’t get me wrong. I was looking forward to slowly meeting my mother’s side of the family, but I didn’t want her to meet me while I was in this state of mind. I still needed time mentally before I could get back to being me. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be me again. Only time would tell. After placing the bag in the trunk of my car, I hugged and thanked her again.

  When I pulled into a parking spot, my stomach fluttered with butterflies in anticipation. Then when I got there, I didn’t think I could do this. I’d wanted this in a public place because I was afraid of how I would react when I saw him in person. Now I was afraid that I’d collapse in front of everyone. He had a right to know, and he deserved to be told in person. Taking a long deep breath, I exited the car, and in a slow steady pace, I made my way to the café. Arriving a half hour early hoping to sit and wait for him, I stopped in my tracks when I saw him through the glass wall. He was already there.

  Biting my lip, I studied him. He hadn’t noticed me. It had been over two weeks, and from this distance he seemed slimmer. His hair was a mess, though an adorable mess. He wore jeans and a navy blue fitted shirt. His hands were folded together on top of the small table. He stared down at them while his leg nervously bounced.

  Running his hand through his hair, he began to mumble something then spread his hands as if speaking with someone sitting in front of him. No one was there. Shaking his head, he sank his face into his hands. Both legs were bouncing now.

  At that moment, I was going to turn around and walk away, but after rubbing his face, he looked my way. His entire body froze when he laid eyes on me. His lips parted and eyebrows creased. I tried to swallow a few times, but my throat was too dry. He slowly brought
his arms down to the table, and his eyes remained locked with mine. Looking down, I broke from his stare. Unhurriedly, I made my way through the glass door and to him.

  The entire few seconds it took me to finally reach him, I thought of how I should greet him. Do I kiss him or hug him? Either way it would feel awkward, or was I more afraid that once I hugged him, I wouldn’t let go?

  I took the easy way out and just slid in the seat across from him. Not bringing my eyes to his, I waited as we sat in silence. The leg bouncing had stopped, and I watched as his hands and fingers spread and pressed down on the table. His fingernails turned white with the pressure. It was like he was keeping them from reaching out. He cleared his throat before speaking, and even though the familiar sound of his low deep voice pulled me in, I kept my eyes down. “Hi,” was all he said. It was short, yet there was so much more behind it.

  It worked, that simple word forced my eyes up and to meet his again. Both of our chests moved in a matching rhythmic speed. I shied my eyes away, looking out into the parking lot away from him. I couldn’t look into those eyes and break his heart with the news I had. I began to ache, knowing that I would have to relive the emotional heart-wrenching pain all over again. Lifting my hands from my lap, I laid them on the table and looked down at them. We were a mere inch away. His fingers flexed, I stilled, and with my reaction, he brought his hands under the table, rubbing them along his thighs.

  “Would you like something to drink?” His voice was low yet steady; I knew it was an attempt to get me talking. I nodded. “Tea?” he asked. When I nodded again, he stood and walked over to the front counter to order our drinks.