Bent not Broken

by Lisa De Jong

  I shrugged my shoulders, still embarrassed by my tirade. “Sorry.”

  When we reached her Suburban, she grabbed me in a hug and hissed into my ear, “How do you know him?”

  I’m sure I sounded like an idiot when I answered flatly, “He was one of my cases when I worked at Fairbanks.”

  She looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “You’re dating one of your former clients?”

  “It’s a lonnnnggg story.” I dragged out the word so she’d know that there just wasn’t time to explain it all right then. I shook my head discreetly, widening my eyes in a secret promise to tell her later.

  “Well when I call you tomorrow, you better tell me everything,” she demanded.

  I nodded my head like a bobble-head doll. “I will. I promise.”

  Paige gave me a quick squeeze and hopped into her car. “Talk to you later,” she called before shutting her door and driving away.

  When I turned around, Chris was waiting for me by his Range Rover. He leaned against it, crossing his feet in front of him. I stomped toward him, trying to ignore the sexiness that exuded from him.

  I folded my arms across my chest and cocked my hip. “You don’t get to hurt me then walk back into my life as if nothing happened and expect me to forgive you on the spot,” I snapped, glaring at him.

  Chris took a step toward me, reaching out for me. “Salem, please…if you’ll just let me explain,” he pleaded, looking at me with hurt and pain in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t have any excuses for it, okay? I got wasted, and I fucked up.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut. I was not going to allow my tears to fall. He ripped my heart out and now he’s back, thinking he can ask for forgiveness and I’ll just forget it ever happened. No! I wouldn’t open myself to the possibility of heartache like that again. I’d been through enough. Just then, I snapped my eyes open again. “No. It’s not that easy,” I said coldly and full of disgust as I took a step back. “For all I know, you’re a walking petri dish from the Center for Disease Control.”

  Chris denied my accusation, shaking his head adamantly. “I didn’t fuck her, Salem.”

  “You’re lying,” I growled, stomping my foot on the ground.

  Chris reached out, grasping my shoulders. He was an arm’s length apart from me, but I already felt as though he were creaking open the door of my heart and climbing in. My hurt and stubborn side quickly shoved those thoughts aside. No. He’s not getting to me.

  “Salem,” he rasped, the agony of defeat lacing his voice. “Look at me.”

  I didn’t. I couldn’t. I closed my eyes again, wishing I could just go back to the night before the concert where I would rip those backstage passes to shreds and toss them in the trashcan.

  “Please, baby. Look at me,” he pleaded desperately, clutching my shoulders, “Open your eyes and see the truth.”

  My heart was weak, and the word ‘baby’ was my kryptonite. The gentle pressure of his hands on my shoulders reminded me of the closeness I felt to him that night in my bed. I missed that. I missed him. I took a deep, staggering breath. The refreshing scent of cedar and sandalwood took me back to the night we shared our first kiss. Slowly, my eyes fluttered open, and I peered up at him in the warm glow of the street lights.

  Chris’s dark irises pierced mine, and I knew he’d already won me over.

  ****

  CHRIS

  There they were—those beautiful eyes I’d been dreaming about since the morning I’d left her alone in her bed. God, I’d missed her.

  I’d stood there, frozen by the fear that I had already lost her forever. I knew if I could just get her to open her eyes that she’d see the pain in mine and my strong plea for forgiveness. She’d understand me, just like she always had.

  I took a deep breath. Here goes nothing. “Salem, I swear,” I whispered, “I know I screwed up, but I didn’t screw her.”

  Salem glared at me, deepening the crease in her furrowed brow. “I don’t believe you.”

  “It’s true,” I pleaded, gripping her shoulders. “I swear.”

  She cocked an eyebrow, unconvinced. “So, you’re telling me you didn’t fuck some chick in the hotel room that night?”

  “No, I swear, I didn’t,” I vowed. I could already see her shutting me out. Fear gripped me, and my tone became needy, desperate to make my plea. “I couldn’t go through with it. All of a sudden, I could see myself in the moment. I knew I was about to fuck things up, just like I’d always done in the past, but I’m done fucking things up, Salem. I just couldn’t hurt you like that.”

  Salem released her folded arms, dropping them down by her sides. I wondered if she could hear the truth in my voice because her glaring hostility was beginning to fade a little. “So, you stopped because you didn’t want to hurt me?” She cocked her head a little, trying to grasp my explanation.

  Reaching up, I clutched the back of her head and met her at eye level. My face was inches from hers as I whispered, “Of course I stopped because I didn’t want to hurt you, but beyond all that, Salem, I’m done hurting me.”

  In that moment, her expression softened. “Oh, Chris…” her voice faltered and her hands flew to her gaping mouth.

  I took a step closer, pulling her me. “I’m not fucking this up. No one else gets me the way you do. I don’t want to lose you. No matter what I do or where I go, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than with you.”

  She looked up at me, tears pooling in her eyes. “What about…?” She hesitated to finish.

  She didn’t have to say it. I knew what she was asking. Her voice was like an uncertain child, and she looked so fragile, I just wanted to hold her and kiss her until she felt strong again, until she knew how certain I was about us. “I can’t pretend that Kaitlyn didn’t exist. She was a huge part of my life. You know that. But, what’s past is past. I can’t keep living there. I need to move forward, and so I am. With you.”

  ****

  SALEM

  The tears I cried as he held me in his arms were not for his apology, but were tears of joy for witnessing firsthand his emotional growth. I’d met him as a broken teenager, who’d coped with his struggles by building walls around his tender heart. Our fleeting time together at Fairbanks proved little progress in reversing the years of heartache and pain. I’d kept up with him, through the media, on his rise to fame, as he dealt with life the only ways he knew how—alcohol and sex. I’d seen him self-destruct, little by little, year after year. He’d made some progress over the past few months, but like a lot of addicts, self-destructive ones included, he’d experienced a small setback. But thank goodness, he caught his mistake before it was too late. No, the tears I cried weren’t for myself or for the fact that he’d hurt my feelings. Rather, they were tears of relief, knowing he’d finally had a breakthrough.

  It was the moment he lifted my hands to his lips that I noticed it. He’d added more words to the tattoo on his forearm. The calligraphy letters sprawled across his skin.

  Dum spiro spero. Dum spero amo.

  “Your tattoo,” I whispered in the darkness.

  He smiled against the tops of my hands. “You like it?” His breath was hot against my skin.

  I remembered the note he’d left on my pillow the night after we’d made love.

  While I breathe, I hope. While I hope, I love.

  “It’s beautiful,” I sighed.

  The softness in his eyes weakened my already weary heart. He brushed strands of hair away from my face. “It’s how I feel. I hoped for you, and in you, I found hope.” Running his thumb down my cheek, he gently caressed my skin. His face was so full of emotions, strong feelings he hadn’t allowed himself to experience in quite some time. He softly kissed my trembling lips and whispered, “I love you, Salem.”

  Hearing those words took my breath away. I felt the same way, and I sensed his urgent need to hear me say it back. I stared into eyes, seeing the years of heartache lifting away when I whispered, “I love you too, Chris.”

  As his
lips crashed into mine, the threads of our souls tangled together, carefully stitching the broken pieces of our shattered hearts.

  Chris pulled away first. “Come on,” he said, pulling me toward his car. “I wanna take you somewhere.”

  Warily, I asked, “Where?”

  He just smiled. “You’ll see. Get in.” He opened the door and motioned for me to sit in the passenger’s seat.

  I climbed in, and he shut the door behind me. There was a spring in his step as he made his way to the driver’s seat. I wondered where he was taking me.

  Thankfully, the effects of the alcohol were quickly wearing off. “Tell me. Where are we going?” I asked again, looking up at the ominous night sky that looked heavy with precipitation.

  “Downtown,” Chris stated with no more explanation.

  Before long, we pulled into a vacant parking lot in the middle of the downtown area. My office was just around the corner. Chris hopped out and opened my car door for me. By then, it had started to drizzle. I didn’t know for sure when the bottom would drop out, but he seemed insistent, so I took his hand. He continued to hold mine as he walked me toward the courtyard in front of a tall brick office building toward a large fountain. Years ago, the city had built the fountain, planted some trees, and updated the downtown square in an effort to boost local commerce. Unfortunately, with the construction of the local mall and the big box stores, the downtown area had really taken a hit.

  “Wow…I almost forgot about this place,” he whispered.

  “What do you mean?” I asked him as we approached the fountain.

  Chris let go of my hand and ran his finger across the brick retaining wall of the fountain. “Two weeks after I got out of juvie, I turned eighteen. This is where I spent my birthday,” he said, his voice nostalgic.

  “You sat on a fountain on your eighteenth birthday? By yourself?” The confused look on my face made Chris smile.

  Shrugging, he said, “Yeah, basically.” He continued to walk around the fountain, grazing his fingers across each brick around its edge. “Here,” he said, stopping to point at a particular spot. “I sat here.”

  Cocking an eyebrow, I asked, “Why?” I couldn’t imagine why he didn’t spend his birthday with his family or friends. It must have been lonely.

  He turned and sat down on the exact spot he’d been pointing at. Looking out into the distance, he sighed wistfully, “I remember it like it was yesterday. Mom and I got into an argument that night. She wanted me to give up my music and get a real job. She said she needed my income to help make ends meet. I was willing to help out, but I wasn’t willing to give up my dream.” Chris looked at me, motioning me to join him on the fountain. “So, that night I grabbed my guitar and came out here. Years ago, this place was hopping. I sat on this wall and played my heart out. People walked by, tossing money in my guitar case while I sang. It was my first taste of fame. There wasn’t a better feeling than sitting right here on these bricks in the chilled air, playing for the people around me. Such a rush.”

  I nodded. “I’m sure it was.” It was also the first of many lonely nights, playing for strangers who enjoyed his music, but never stopped long enough to really know him.

  Chris looked at me, and I was reminded of the day he looked at the guitar I handed him and hoped he would earn it. What I didn’t tell him and what I should have told him was that he didn’t have to do anything to earn it. He just had to be the man I knew he could be. Kind. Compassionate. Empathetic. Strong. Knowing the man I knew now, he had definitely earned it.

  Looking down at his feet, Chris continued, “Salem, you were the only person who ever encouraged me. You were the one to give me the push I needed to make my dreams a reality. So, I spent that night here, singing, while rich men dropped bills at my feet. In some ways, it was one of the greatest nights of my life.” He glanced back up, self-conscious about having shared such an intimate memory.

  Leaning into him and laying my head on his shoulder, I murmured, “It was your first step on the way to the top.”

  Together, we sat silently in the drizzling rain for several minutes, lost in our own thoughts.

  Chris broke the silence. “There’s one more thing.”

  I pulled my head away from his shoulder, waiting expectantly.

  “That night, I took all the money I earned and spent it,” he grinned, pleased with himself. “Money well spent.”

  I smiled at him. “What did you spend it on?”

  His smile grew wider, and his dimple deepened. “You’re sittin’ on it,” he said, gazing down at the brick retaining wall we were sitting on.

  “Huh?” I tilted my head, giving him a puzzled look. Confused, I stood and turned around to look. There, on the bricks, I saw an engraved dedication:

  In Honor of Mrs. H…Roots and Wings

  My hand immediately flew to my mouth, covering my look of shock. “Oh, Chris…”

  His eyes were vulnerable and hoping. “Just like you told me, remember?”

  Chris stood to his feet and wrapped his arms around me. Holding me close, he whispered, “This is where it all started…that night…on my eighteenth birthday. You helped me believe in myself.”

  I didn’t know what to say. Tears slid down my cheeks, masked by the falling raindrops. It was everything I’d hoped for all those years ago when it seemed like my job was the only shred of happiness I had. Every day I’d hoped that I’d made a difference in the lives of those guys. And there, carved into the bricks, was living proof. “Thank you, Chris,” I said softly, burying my head in his chest. “You don’t know what this means to me.”

  Chris grasped the back of my head, gently swaying back and forth in the cool, damp air. Softly, he sang the words to a song I’d never heard.

  And then there was you

  Amidst raindrops and street lights

  And in my eyes

  You were the center of it all

  You were her

  You were her

  You were her

  The one that I’ve been waiting for

  The light within my shadowy world

  Cupping my face in his hands, he leaned down and gently kissed my lips. The soft rush of heat spread throughout my body. Caressing the seam of my lips with his tongue, he prodded my mouth open. Our tongues snaked and circled around each other, relishing the moment.

  Pulling away, he said, “Let me take you home, Salem. Let me show you how much I love you tonight.”

  I looked deep into his eyes and knew that despite his mistakes, despite his flaws, I loved him. Nodding slowly, I said, “Okay.”

  Together we walked side by side, with his arm firmly wrapped around me, back to his car. Before I knew it, we were pulling into my driveway. My stomach fluttered with anticipation of what was about to happen.

  ****

  We spent the night wrapped in each other’s arms, sharing our love for one another through the unity of our bodies. I lay beneath him, quivering from the power of his stamina, while my body trembled, completely fulfilled by his sexual prowess. It was a night to remember. A night I would never forget. The night I gave my whole heart and soul to Chris.

  Like a thief in the night, deeply satisfied sleep robbed me of my time with him.

  “Wake up, sweetheart,” he whispered into my ear.

  “Hmmm,” I moaned, trying to jostle my conscious mind. Glancing at the clock, I saw the bright red, digital numbers that read 5:06 AM.

  “I gotta go, baby,” he said, regretfully.

  Pouting, I mumbled, “I don’t want you to leave.” I nuzzled against his chest, not ready to let go of him yet.

  “I don’t want to leave either, but I have to,” he said, squeezing me tight and kissing me gently on my forehead. “Don’t worry. This tour is almost over. Then we can spend all the time in the world together.”

  I wasn’t ready. Just a few hours at a time was never long enough. “I’ll miss you,” I said softly.

  Holding me, he wrapped his arms around me. Kissing my temple, he b
reathed, “I’ll miss you too.”

  We reluctantly pulled ourselves out of bed, grabbing clothes off the floor and getting dressed.

  Standing at the doorway, knowing it could be weeks before I would see him again, I tried my best to hold my emotions together. Chris cradled me against his chest, gently swaying back and forth.

  “Just a few weeks,” he said as if he were trying to convince himself more than me.

  I nodded. “Just a few weeks.”

  Chris cupped my face in his hands. I lifted my eyes to look at him, tears pooling in the corners. “I know life on the road is hard, Chris…” I struggled to hold back my tears, remembering the sucker-punched feeling I got when I saw the photos of him going into the hotel with another woman. I knew what I was trying to say, but I just couldn’t finish my sentence. I hoped he’d understand my fears without having to hear the words.

  “Shhh,” he assured me, brushing strands of hair away from my face. “Salem, you are the only girl I want. You’re all I need. You are it for me.”

  We stood there, staring at each other like that for several seconds while I silently thanked him for knowing exactly what I needed to hear.

  Shaking his head, he whispered, “I don’t know what you’ve done to me, baby.” Then, slowly leaning toward me, he pressed his mouth to mine.

  I succumbed to the softness of his lips against my skin, welcoming it. We kissed as though it would be our last. I couldn’t help the frightening feeling welling up inside of me that it very well could be. After all, Chris King was a rock star. Celebrity status. What would happen to us when word leaked out about who I was to him? I figured it was only a matter of time.

  Chris pulled away, searching my eyes. His pained expression mirrored mine. “I love you so much.”

  “I love you too,” I said as tears trickled down my cheeks. “See you soon.”

  With that response, Chris kissed my forehead and disappeared through my front door. I traipsed back to my bed, falling into it, and curling myself around the pillow he’d slept on that night. Breathing in his familiar masculine scent, I felt comforted—especially knowing I’d be seeing him again in just a few short weeks. I closed my eyes, remembering how he felt beside me, and drifted back to sleep. I wasn’t ready to face reality yet.