Bent not Broken

by Lisa De Jong

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  SALEM

  I honestly don’t know how people lived without technology. Just being able to see Chris on one of the face-to-face talk apps on my phone helped get me through each day. My heart ached like it had never ached before. I just wanted to be with him. I missed him so much.

  The final weeks of his concert tour were coming to a close, and we could finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. Between work and Alexis’s after school activities, the days seemed to fly by at a record breaking pace.

  Before I knew it, Chris was standing on my front porch the day after his last concert in Memphis.

  “I’m so glad you’re finally here!” I wrapped my arms around him, vowing never to let him go again.

  He laughed, picking me up a few inches off the ground. “Me too, baby. I’ve missed you so much.”

  Alexis stepped out onto the front porch with her iPhone in her hand and earbuds in her ears. “So, are you moving in?” she asked, chomping her piece of gum loudly.

  “Alexis!” I snapped, embarrassed that she’d made assumptions.

  Chris smiled at her. “No, I got my own place. But, I’m hoping I can hang out with you guys as often as possible.”

  Alexis grinned back. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle your rock star ego.” She playfully smacked his shoulder.

  Chris played along, taking on the persona of someone who was much more high maintenance. “As long as you serve me my sodas with exactly four ice cubes and keep the thermostat at a balmy seventy-three degrees, we’ll be okay.”

  She did a goofy flourish with her hands as she bowed. “As you wish, my lord.”

  Chris laughed holding his head high like a king looking down over his loyal subjects.

  It was fun to watch them seem so at ease with each other.

  Suddenly Chris changed the subject. “Hey, I’ve got an idea. Come on, I wanna show you.” He led me and Alexis toward his black Range Rover parked in the driveway. Opening the door for us, we climbed in and buckled up.

  “Where are we going?” I asked as we pulled out onto my street and sped down the road. I remembered the last time he wanted to show me something…the brick he’d dedicated in my honor. I smiled at the memory.

  Chris threw me a sidelong glance, full of secrets. “You’ll see.”

  We turned into the parking lot of the pregnancy care center where I worked. It was smack dab in the middle of downtown, near the fountain with my brick—the same brick I’d found myself sitting on at lunchtime the past several weeks. I did anything to try to feel closer to Chris while he was gone.

  “What are we doing here?” I asked, wondering if he’d brought us here to show Alexis the brick too.

  Chris just grinned, “You’ll see.”

  Alexis smiled as if she was in on the secret. “What?” she asked innocently when she caught me glaring at her.

  We rounded the corner and were greeted by an old, neglected, rundown office building. The ‘for lease’ sign I’d seen posted in the window had been taken down and replaced by a sign that boasted ‘King Records.’

  Confused, I glanced at Chris. “You’re leasing this place?”

  “Nope,” he grinned. “Bought it. There’s an apartment on the second floor. The first floor will be home to my new record label. I plan to fix it up, maybe even take on a few new clients. I’d like to start backing away from the main stage. Maybe let some other new teenage heartthrobs join the scene, under my guidance. We’re so close to Charlotte, it won’t be hard to find good talent and eager musicians.”

  My mouth dropped open. “Are—are you serious? You’re gonna stay here?” My heart leapt for joy.

  Chris wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me close to him as I leaned across the center console. Excited about his new purchase and his future plans, he said, “I just can’t be away from my girl anymore. It’s driving me fucking insane.” Chris winced, realizing he’d just cussed in front of Alexis.

  Alexis giggled in the backseat in response to his embarrassment. “You know, I’m fourteen. I’ve heard that word before.”

  Chris blew a breath of relief and we all laughed. And for a moment it seemed like all was right in the world.

  ****

  CHRIS

  The end of the tour couldn’t have come at a better time. I was so ready to get off the road for a while and spend some good quality time with Salem and Alexis. I was thankful when the office building with the second floor apartment just fell into my lap. For the right price, the owners sold it to me, rather than leasing it. I couldn’t wait get my new recording studio set up; the guys were already excited to work on the next album. I’d have to say, so far, living in this town hadn’t been so bad…well, except for the day that fat ass shoved his microphone in my face and started harassing me with questions about Salem.

  If it weren’t for him and his damned celebrity gossip website, I wouldn’t have to be explaining myself right now.

  A few days ago, this dude with a microphone and camera started asking me if it was true that I was dating my former juvenile detention counselor.

  I tried my best to ignore him. I kept walking. I didn’t respond. But, the minute he referred to us as engaging in an ‘inappropriate relationship,’ I fucking lost it.

  I grabbed the camera and slammed it to ground, shattering it to pieces. “What’d you just say, cocksucker?” I seethed. “Say it again.”

  The zit-faced jackass glared at me with his beady little eyes over his wire-rimmed glasses. “Are you threatening me? Because if you are, my lawyers will be all over that?”

  “Oh, no. It’s not a threat,” I growled, glaring at him with my finger pointed in his face. “It’s a fucking promise. In case you didn’t notice, asshole, I’m over the age of thirty, as is she. If you dare to use the word ‘inappropriate’ in your vocabulary again to try to explain our relationship, you’ll be choking on your own nuts. Capisce?”

  Wide-eyed, the guy stared at me. He knew I meant business. Glancing at the camera on the ground, he stammered, “You’re, uhh….you’re gonna hafta pay for that.”

  I chuckled at the broken pieces. “Chump change,” I huffed, stalking off in the other direction. Calling over my shoulder, I patronized him even further, “Have your guys call my guys.”

  I normally didn’t throw my fame and fortune in people’s faces like that, but damn, that guy pissed me off.

  ****

  SALEM

  Paige’s voice shrilled through the phone. “Wait. So, you’re telling me he was one of your seventeen year old clients?” She had promised to call me the day after our girl’s night out to get the scoop on Chris, but unfortunately her crazy life with a doctor husband, preteen diva, kindergarten princess, and toddler tornado twin boys had zapped all of her free time. She didn’t remember to call until the tabloids had already plastered the news.

  “He’s thirty-two now,” I said defensively. “What difference does it make how old he was when I met him?”

  She sounded concerned. “He was a kid, Salem. You were his counselor. Something about it just doesn’t sound right.”

  “We are adults, Paige,” I threw back at her, trying not to take her opinion personally. “We haven’t been counselor-client for almost fifteen years. I just don’t get why people are freaking out over this.” I paced the floor, staring at the newsfeed on my computer screen. Posts and articles about me, Chris, and my relationship with him flooded the internet. Somehow they’d even managed to find pictures of him as a teen. Those photos juxtaposed with recent pictures of myself. No wonder people were so up in arms about it.

  “Paige, you saw him. He’s not a child. Hell, he was almost eighteen when I met him. There was absolutely nothing inappropriate between us back then.” I felt my face getting hot. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I have to defend myself to my best friend!”

  Curiously, like a glutton for punishment, I turned on the TV. I watched the local news do a mighty fine job of tarnishing my good na
me, making me sound like I was some kind of sick pervert. In boring little towns like we lived in, they took minor stories and ran with them. I’d seen more than one name flushed down the tubes over something blown way out of proportion. Angrily, I slammed the remote on the coffee table.

  Paige spoke softly, trying another tactic. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to defend yourself. You’re right. You are both adults here. The media has just played this story up so much that it’s hard not to get sucked in. Don’t be mad. I’m sorry.”

  The media was just trying to make me out to the bad guy. Oh god, what if the pregnancy care center gets wind of this? A sob escaped my throat before I could reel it back in. “I’m not mad. I’m just frustrated. This isn’t fair. I’m not who they say I am.”

  “Don’t worry about them. Just keep being you. This will all blow over soon.”

  Right. I continued to pace the living room, pressing a shaky hand to my forehead. “And in the meantime, they’re making me out to be some sick, child molester.”

  Paige sighed. “Everyone who knows you, knows better.”

  I stared at the black screen of my television, imagining the awful things being said about me to the thousands of gullible people out there who were eating all this crap up. Hating me or loving me. Or maybe even jealous of me. I despised it. All of it. I didn’t want to be in the spotlight. Ever. Would things with Chris ever be normal? Suddenly, I remembered the night he came to my house and told me how normal I looked. I was beginning to understand his need for normalcy.

  “I guess,” I huffed, exasperated.

  “Coffee date later?” Paige asked, hopeful.

  “Sure,” I responded, less than enthusiastic.

  “Okay, I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Later.” Before I had a chance to hang up, someone was pounding on my front door. I quickly clicked “End” and rushed to the door.

  “Open up, Salem!” Graham’s voice was harsh through the solid, wooden door.

  I reached out, turning the knob. I regretted it the moment I did it. As soon as I cracked the door open, Graham pushed past me, raking his hand through his hair. Whirling around in the foyer, he growled, “You slept with a teenager? One of the kids from Fairbanks? Are you fucking kidding me?” He grimaced, taking heaving breaths.

  I held my hands out, waving my open palms in the air, “Whoa. Slow down. First of all, no, I never slept with any teenager from Fairbanks.” Even after all he put me through I thought the man I’d been married to for almost thirteen years would know me better than that.

  He pointed an accusatory finger at the television. “Well, that’s not what’s circulating all around town and all over the news.” Graham looked livid. I couldn’t care less. He’d put me through enough. This wasn’t about him anymore. “You had an affair, Salem…with one of your clients. I’d say that pretty much makes it my business.”

  Was he really trying to pull the infidelity card on me?

  I narrowed my eyes and pressed my fists to my hips. “Believe what you want, Graham, but in case you’re forgetting, you’re the one who cheated on me. And besides, what business is this of yours?”

  Ignoring me, Graham looked at me with disgust and asked accusingly, “How long have you been seeing him?”

  I shook my head, biting back a scream. “Again, none of your business.”

  Graham threw his hand toward Alexis’s bedroom. “We have a child together, Salem. I have a right to know.”

  I took three breaths, waiting until I was somewhat calm and could answer him. Then I took a step toward him so he’d know I was serious. I never really stood up for myself when we were married. It was my turn now. I was taking care of me, and I sure as hell wasn’t letting him stomp all over me now, or ever. “If you want to discuss our child, then please, feel free. Otherwise, get the hell out of my house.”

  Graham stood, unmoving. “I’m not leaving without Alexis,” he demanded.

  Staring at him, my mouth fell open. How dare he try to put Alexis in the middle of this! I was furious enough with myself for even trying so hard all that time to keep our marriage together. I neglected my own happiness for years, trying to hold our family intact. I cooked and cleaned and scrubbed his piss off the toilet for far too long, and now he wants to come into my house, question me, and demand to take my child? He wants to stomp in here, pointing fingers and making accusations about something he obviously knows nothing about. I sacrificed over a decade of my life to try to stay married to this asshole for the sake of our daughter.

  “Get out,” I seethed with anger, pointing toward the door. “Get the hell out of my house right now!”

  He glared at me with his piercing eyes that almost made me lose my resolve. “Not without Alexis.” Graham stood his ground while a battle of wills ensued between us.

  Just then, a booming voice spoke from around the corner. “I believe she asked you to leave.” Chris stepped through the doorway of the kitchen wearing a hoodie, a Yankees cap, and his favorite sunglasses. I’d forgotten that I’d given him a key to my house a week ago. He must have come through the back door.

  “Who are you?” Graham sneered.

  Chris took off his sunglasses and slid his hood off the back of his head. “Recognize me now, asshole?”

  Graham narrowed his eyes at Chris. “You’re that kid.”

  Chris laughed, one of those over-the-top, dramatic guffaws, then quickly recovered. With a cool tone, he smirked, “Hardly.”

  “You fucked my wife,” Graham hissed.

  Stepping toward him, Chris scoffed, “Pretty sure the court documents state otherwise.”

  “Chris, don’t,” I warned. I couldn’t speak for Graham, but I felt sure Chris wouldn’t hesitate to throw a punch.

  Chris continued to stare Graham down. Graham didn’t flinch.

  “As I said,” Chris repeated coldly, “I believe Salem asked you to leave.”

  After a few intense moments of them glaring at each other, unflinching, Graham finally retreated and took a step toward the door.

  Just then, Alexis came out of the shadow at the top of the stairs. I didn’t know she’d been listening, and I cringed immediately.

  “What’s going on?” she asked innocently as she descended.

  Graham gave her a sidelong glance. “Fine,” he said to Chris, still smoldering, “I’ll leave. For Alexis’s sake.” He jutted a finger at me. “But this is not over.”

  I wanted to bite that finger off. I wanted to be rid of him forever. Unfortunately, he was still my daughter’s father. Dammit.

  Alexis looked at Graham, then swept her eyes toward Chris. “What’s going on?” she asked again, more firmly.

  Chris relaxed and took a step toward her. “Nothing. Just a little misunderstanding.”

  Graham nodded. “I was just leaving, sweetheart. I’ll see you this weekend.”

  “Sure, dad,” she said, unconvinced. “This weekend.”

  She walked up to him and kissed him on the cheek.

  “See you later, hon,” he told her. With a single glance toward me, he stalked out the door and hopped into his Audi. I breathed a sigh of relief as he peeled out of the driveway.

  Alexis split a glance between Chris and me. “I’m not stupid, by the way.” She crossed her arms over her chest in typical teen fashion.

  Chris’s eyes widened. “I never thought you were. Besides, why do you say that?”

  “I see the news. It’s plastered all over the internet. It’s not true, is it, mom?” she asked, pleading for some kind of explanation. “You and Chris? You know, when he was a teenager and all?”

  I shook my head vigorously. “No, honey. You know how that stuff is all lies. Just the media. None of it’s true.” I took her hand and led her to the couch. Sitting her down, I put my hand on her knee. “The truth is I did know Chris when he was a teenager. I was his counselor back then. He needed me, and I needed him for very different reasons. There was nothing inappropriate between us like the media is portraying. When we met
again several months ago at the concert, everything changed. But, we’re both adults now. Okay?”

  Alexis nodded. “Okay. I didn’t believe any of that crap anyway.”

  I smiled, relieved. “I knew you didn’t. I just wanted you to know the truth.”

  “Thanks,” Alexis said as I wrapped my arms around her.

  Giving her a squeeze, I whispered, “As Abraham Lincoln once said, you can’t always believe the crap you read on the internet.”

  She laughed. “I know, mom. You’ve always told me that, but I really get it now.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  SALEM

  For the most part, Chris’s transition from the tour had been a fairly easy one, except the occasional run-in with the paparazzi. I’d learned to cope with the sensationalistic media propaganda. Every now and then, a blurb would run in the tabloids insinuating an inappropriate relationship between a juvenile client and his former counselor, and for a few days, I wouldn’t be able to walk through town without all-knowing eyes glaring at me. We’d learned to ignore the judgmental stares from little old ladies in line at the grocery store. They’d glance at the celebrity gossip headlines then peer at us. Finally putting two and two together, they’d look down their noses in disgust at our clasped hands. It was exhausting and comical at the same time.

  Chris loved living in his new apartment and working in the recording studio. We’d spent several weekends repainting and remodeling to get them ready. Jeremy and Tommy even came to visit for a week to check everything out and get some practice time at the studio before they started recording the new album. I’d kept my distance that week so they could get a lot of work done, but was eager to meet the guys for the first time that Friday night.

  ****

  CHRIS

  “Look guys, Salem will be here any minute. I need you to be on your best behavior.” I tore through the apartment, trying to clean it up a little before she got there. My band mates were slobs. Salem shouldn’t have to deal with the nastiness I’d had to put up with while they were here this week. “Damn, Tommy, ever heard of a trash can?” I griped as I tossed the half-eaten Chinese takeout box and empty beer cans in the garbage.