Bent not Broken

by Lisa De Jong

  Exhaling deeply, I stared at his back as he stood in line. I wanted to run up to him, throw my arms around his neck, and tell him I love him so much and that the past couple weeks had been nothing but miserable without him. Then I thought of all the lies, my brother, his still working for that man, and I couldn’t bring myself to do it. He looked over his shoulder, and a very small, crooked smile formed when he saw I was staring. Pressing his lips together, he glanced down and then focused back on the line.

  Tearing away, I blankly stared out at the trees. I knew this was going to be hard to do. Even though I practiced over and over how and what I was going to say, each time I cried. In person, it would be even harder, and I knew my tears would take over, and it would be so difficult to concentrate on what I’d practiced.

  Marcus returned, sliding into his chair. He placed the tea in front of me. Looking up at him, I gently smiled. “Thank you,” I said softly. He nodded while taking a sip of his coffee.

  Closing his eyes, his eyebrows came together. He seemed to be thinking, and then before I could say anything, he placed the cup aside and brought his hand to mine. “Mia, I miss you so much.” He breathed out as if he were holding it in the entire time.

  Searching my face, he remained still. His touch shot warm, familiar electricity through my veins. “I miss you too,” I admitted. I did. It wasn’t a lie. His eyes grew wide with hope, but I couldn’t lead him on. “But, that’s not why I’m here, Marcus.” His brows furrowed with confusion.

  Attempting to swallow again, I bit my lip, trying to think of the best way to say this. There was no best way. No matter how I said it, it would destroy him. “Marcus, I asked you here because I thought you had a right to know in person.” Looking down at our joined hands, my eyes stung with tears.

  He gently squeezed my hand. “The right to know what?”

  I brought my eyes back to him, “A right to know that the night we’d gotten into the argument, that night I bled a lot. I called Dr. Lee, and when I arrived at the hospital ...” I paused to hold back my sobs as the tears rudely escaped my eyes. Still keeping his hand locked to mine, he brought the other against my face, cupping my cheek. He repeatedly stroked his thumb along the moisture. I closed my eyes, allowing slow steady breaths to calm me before opening them. “Marcus, I lost our baby. I miscarried.” I cried.

  “What?” He shook his head, not wanting to believe what I just said. He searched everywhere in our area, letting out deep breaths, taking in the words, the loss. Fixing his gaze down on our hands, panting, he cocked his head to the side, studying our hold. “It’s my fault,” he whispered.

  Squeezing his hand tighter, I lowered my head, trying to fix his eyes with mine. He didn’t stare at me. “Marcus, it’s no one’s fault.”

  His eyes finally met mine, “Oh yeah? Then how did it happen?”

  Shaking my head, I slightly shrugged. “Dr. Lee said anything could’ve happened: lack of nutrition, stress, anything, Marcus.”

  “You were always stressed because of me.” He pointed at his chest with his free hand. “You were always worried about me: scared every other night, afraid that something would happen to me. Then the whole Romeo and Lou situation and the documents you found … all because of me, Mia.”

  “Marcus, I …” I couldn’t say anything to that. Yes, it was true I was always worried sick about him, but to blame the miscarriage on him was too much. I couldn’t allow him to think it. It wouldn’t be fair to him. “Marcus it is not your fault. Things like this happen all the time; it’s normal. I’ll be fine, and so will you.”

  “You went through it on your own? You must’ve been scared, and I wasn’t there. I was … ugh.” He shook his head disgusted with himself.

  The anger I felt towards him slowly drifted as I looked into his wounded eyes. Yes, my body was the one that physically went through the changes of carrying and losing our child, and yes it would take time for me to physically and mentally heal. But I knew he fell in love with our child the moment I told him I was pregnant. His love grew even more when he saw the peanut-shaped body on the ultrasound. This was just as hard for him as it was for me.

  I wasn’t exactly sure what I was doing; all I knew was that we couldn’t stay in here any longer. I stood, his hand still with mine, and began to move towards the door. He followed behind me as we slowly walked out of the café and into the parking lot. Spotting his all-black, tinted Mercedes, I headed towards it. Once we were by his car, I leaned against the back-passenger door and pulled him into me. Wrapping my hands under his arms, I hugged him tightly. I wanted to comfort him. I wanted him to comfort me. With his arms firmly around the middle of my back, we did just that for a long time. We said nothing, did nothing—just soothed each other.

  It was bizarre how out in the parking lot even while people walked by minding their business, this felt more private to me than in that secluded, tiny shop. Not bothering to see if anyone was staring at us because at this moment I truly didn’t care, I closed my eyes and sank my head into his chest. I took in his oh-so-familiar lingering scent, allowing myself to savor this moment, not sure how long it would last, but knowing that it would eventually have to end. He did as well when he lowered his head, burying it into the base of my neck.

  A tiny painful sigh released from him as he tightened his arms around me. The slight movement lifted me to the tip of my toes, causing the side of our cheeks to lightly brush. The brush of his growing beard was a strange feeling. His face, always smooth and freshly shaved, now pricked with tiny hairs. I didn’t mind though, allowing him to gently tickle my smooth skin with the hair. He slowly brought his head around, pressing his forehead to mine, and the tips of our noses brushed. His lips faintly parted, and the warmth of his breath throbbed against my chest.

  My eyes traced the lining of his full lips; the ends of his perfect, pearly white teeth barely showed. My eyes slowly made their way up to the dent on his upper lip, up to the tip of his nose, to his cheeks, and then to those gorgeous big, brown eyes. He was watching me watch him. I lost air for a second as he brought his chin out, his lips inches away from me. “Marcus,” I whispered in a way to stop him, but I didn’t pull away.

  “Please, Mia.” Closing his eyes, he pressed his soft lips against mine. A tingling sensation shot through my core at his touch, and it warmed as he slipped his tongue through my parted lips. I closed my eyes to savor this too. Oh, how I’d missed those lips, that soft stroking tongue, and his greedy kisses. I brought my hands around his neck and pulled his kiss in deeper. His small, gentle groan vibrated against my lips. His hand quickly left my back, and he reached in his pocket, all while never moving his lips away from mine.

  An alarm beeping sound went off, and then I heard his car doors unlock. In a swift movement he opened the door, leaning me against the open space. Not second guessing, I bent down into his backseat, pulling him on top of me. On his way in, he shut the door, only taking his lips away from me for a mere second.

  He returned his mouth to my face, spreading gentle stroking kisses along my eyebrows, my eyes, my nose, down the side of my cheek, and my jawline. When he reached my lips again, he mumbled in between breaths, pulling away gently to list everything he’d missed. “I love you so much. I’ve missed you so much, Mia. I miss your scent, your lips, your touch, the way your hair falls against your face … the way you smile. I’ve missed you so fucking much, especially,” pulling away for a second, he cupped my face with his hand, and narrowly stared into my eyes saying, “those eyes, those beautiful eyes. I’ve missed looking into them every morning when I wake up and every night before I fall asleep. I have done nothing the past two weeks but dream of your eyes.”

  I closed my eyes as a single tear escaped and rolled down the side of my face. His thumb wiped it away before he continued to place several gentle pecks against my lips. On the last peck, he kept his lips firm against my mouth, and his tongue once again found mine, twirling in delicious delight. I knew I had to stop, to not lead him on and let him think t
hat we were okay because we weren’t. But his words, his touch, and his lips momentarily persuaded me to cave in, to briefly break down that wall I slowly began to build once again.

  I told myself over and over again in my head as he slowly slid his hand up my shirt that this was what we needed … that we both needed to comfort each other … that we needed this last goodbye. We needed closure.

  I moaned against his lips when his hand reached my aching breast. Neither one of us was able to hold it any longer. We quickly ripped our clothes off, and he sank into me relieving the pain in my inner thighs. My body trembled as I felt the fullness, the hardness. I realized that I needed this, that I needed him at this very moment. “Mia ...” He groaned, dipping his head into my neck, leaving feather-like kisses along my collarbone.

  “I love you.” He choked in pain as he continued in soft, gentle thrusts, joining our hips. My entire body ached with longing for him, wanting him, and I eagerly wrapped my legs around his hips pushing him in deeper. “Oh Marcus, I’ve missed you so much. I love you.” I moaned into his earlobe. My confession ignited him, and he picked up pace. Crushing his lips to mine, his tongue reached far back into my mouth, and I sucked on it, craving his taste.

  Our bodies, damp with sweat, trembled with the sensation, trying to hold on to every peaking moment. Eventually we both gave in, allowing our bodies to release the aching tension. Breathing heavily, he lay flat on my chest.

  I stared at the roof of his car, trying to control my breathing as well. What the hell did I just do?

  I began to squirm underneath him, and he sat back on the heels of his feet, watching as I sought to find my clothes and throw them on. “Mia, what are you doing? I thought we …” I stopped half way through putting my shirt on and turned to look into his puzzled eyes. I led him on: He didn’t think of this as a goodbye. He thought of this as rekindling our relationship.

  Biting my lip, I slowly rolled the shirt down. “Marcus, I’m sorry for leading you on.”

  His head snapped back. “Leading me on? What do you mean leading me on?” He brought his fingers to the middle of his stomach. I didn’t say anything since I was afraid to say the wrong thing. He gulped in a mouthful of air when he finally realized what I meant. He tilted his head, and his shoulders slumped. “But you said you missed me too. You said you loved me!”

  Shifting and lifting my legs, I sat as he was facing him. “Marcus, I love you so much. I will always love you. And yes, I’ve missed you. I will always miss you, but too much has happened to go back to the way we were. Don’t you see that?”

  With his head still tilted and his hand still at the pit of his stomach, his chest heaved in and out, and his growing painful expression felt like a knife just stabbed my heart. “And this? What was this!” he snapped, his hand leaving his belly, sprawling along the seat where we just made love.

  My heartbeat began to speed up at the tone of his voice. He was beginning to get angry. I didn’t blame him. It was wrong of me to make him believe for one second that we were back together. Slightly shrugging my shoulders, I looked down ashamed. “It was for comfort, I guess, closure.”

  “Really?” With his jaw clenched tight, he quickly grabbed his shirt and tossed it on, not caring that it was inside out. Straightening his legs to the floor of the car, he adjusted his jeans. Once they were secured at his waist, he zippered and buttoned them. Opening the door beside him, he glared at me. “Well, I hope you got your fucking closure.” The door slammed shut after he stepped out. Startled by the loud noise, I quickly stormed out of the car.

  He was walking down the parking lot at a fast pace. I had to jog to catch up to him. Where was he going? It was his car we were just in. When I was finally close enough, I reached out and grabbed his arm. “Marcus, please don’t walk away—talk to me.”

  He stopped, turned, and looked down at me. “Why? What’s the point! If I poured my heart out to you at this moment, would it make a difference? Will it change your mind? Will you take me back?”

  I wanted to, but I couldn’t. “No.”

  “That’s what I thought!” Pulling from my grip, he went back to walking down the lot.

  Hurriedly rushing back to his side, I began to feel angry. “How could I? After what you did? You lied to me, remember? You kept a secret from me. You knew my brother. Worst of all, you know who killed him, yet still you work for him!”

  He stopped again. Biting his lip, he turned to face me. Lowering his head until he was only inches away from my face, he looked me straight in the eye. “Yes, and I’m sorry for that. I knew that it would be hard for you to accept it. Can you only imagine how difficult it is for me to work for him, knowing that he killed my father?”

  I froze, tilting my head. I studied him, trying to rationalize what he just said. “Are you saying that Lou Sorrento murdered your father?” His eyes grew baffled as he realized he gave away something he wasn’t supposed too. Straightening, he shook his head, and turned walking back to his car. He picked up the pace at almost a jogging speed.

  “Marcus!” I yelled after him, I had to run. Meeting up with him once again, I brought myself in front of him, placing my hands on his shoulders to stop him. I’d never been more confused in my life. If Lou killed Marcus’ father, why would he still be involved with him? He’s obviously trying not to let me in. “You’re shutting me out again, Marcus. This is why our relationship was the way it was. You kept things from me. That’s how someone loses trust in another by keeping secrets.”

  “My secrets, Mia, are meant to be kept hidden because in the end, they could potentially harm you.” Shaking his head, he looked away from me. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe this should just be what it is … closure.” He brought his eyes back to me, and tears sprung to my eyes. This is it. This is finally the end.

  “I will always love you, Mia. You’re the love of my life.” Cupping my face with both his hands, he brought his forehead to mine. “No minute will ever go by without a thought of you. If I can’t have you physically, you will always be a part of me spiritually in my dreams and memories.”

  He was leaving me. “I love you Marcus.” I sobbed.

  Bringing his lips against the side of my mouth, he mumbled, “I know, baby. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for showing me what true love is. I will always cherish you for that.”

  Before I could protest, he was gone, leaving me alone in the middle of the parking lot with aching tears. He left me this time, and it felt like the earth swallowed me into its core: I was buried alive and suffocating.

  I’m not sure how I made it to my car. I’m not sure how I found the keys and entered the vehicle, and I’m not sure how I made it all the way home. The entire ride was a huge haze. My entire life would never be the same. In fact my future looked like nothing but one huge block of blurriness.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  When Marcus left me standing in the parking lot, I was sure my life was over and I wouldn’t know how to breathe or live again without him. Well, there I was thirty days later, and I was still alive and still breathing. A day hadn’t gone by without my mind drifting off to him. I still cried sometimes, but I was a little grateful it wasn’t every night anymore. The first two weeks were hard, really hard. Jeremy had to fall asleep with me to make sure I didn’t suffocate with my face buried in the pillow as I sobbed till I drifted away.

  He spent a lot of time with me, and I was grateful for that. It made Stacy extremely jealous, and soon they broke up. I felt horrible. I told him to go win her back, that I was fine, but he assured me it was more than just me. He also said that if a girlfriend of his couldn’t accept his being there for a friend, then she was no girlfriend at all. I loved him for that also. He was just too good to me. Honestly if it weren’t for him, my mother, and Megan, I’m not sure I would’ve made it this long.

  Megan is my cousin who moved here from Philadelphia. She was staying with my mom, and although her upbeat, bubbly personality was totally the opposite of mine, we hit it off right away. W
e’re similar in age, and I was helping her fill out college applications. She was able to find a job as a cocktail waitress at one of the local night clubs. Megan was beautiful: she was tall, slim, had light brown hair and the lightest brown eyes I’d ever seen. I wasn’t sure if they were hazel, but they turned to a small hint of any light color she wore. She came over to my place a lot, and I was sure it was because she had a thing for Jeremy. He, of course, didn’t mind her company as well.

  The three of us became close, doing everything together. We watched late movies, went shopping, and went out to dinners. Though they kept my mind occupied a lot, there was always something missing. They would crack jokes, and I would watch them goof around. I was the third wheel, never chiming in on their jokes and never laughing at them either.

  Megan said I needed to lighten up and get loose. If she only knew the person I was before Marcus and I broke it off, maybe she would understand. I never told her about Marcus. Well she knew that I had gotten my heart broken and that I was trying to heal from the aftereffects. Jeremy and my mother made sure not to bring him up in any way, afraid that I would run into the other room crying. Seriously it was ridiculous.

  This was the last weekend before school began, and I knew that I would be swamped once Monday came around. This was Jeremy’s last year, and he would soon graduate, pass the bar, and go off on his merry way to become a successful attorney. I knew he’d be a great one. He wanted to practice contract law. I thought it was boring, but he has an eye for viewing documents and catching things that most people would miss, and he’s at great negotiating.

  I wasn’t sure what type of law I wanted to practice once I finished. Maybe I’d start off in general law, doing a little bit of everything until I found out what I really wanted to do. I was viewing my roster that came in the mail. Criminal Law II and Ethics were my courses that semester. Fun … not.