Love Broken

by J. D. Hollyfield

  “Okay, ready?” the girl asks, preparing to take our photo.

  “You bet,” Chase replies and three flashes radiate from his phone. Once she’s done, I start to pull away, but Chase pulls me in closer, leaning into me. I feel his breath hitting my earlobe, as his words strike. They’re soft and just above a whisper, but loud enough for my heart to hear. “I miss you.” He pulls away just as slowly, as if no meaning or tension just sparked between us.

  He then lets me go and says his goodbyes to Leanne. He walks back to his side of the room and continues his day as if he didn’t just fucking ruin mine.

  I’m tired.

  Hungry.

  And crabby.

  I signed the last four books with the wrong name, having to toss them and sign my pen name instead of my real name. If I wasn’t signing Katie by accident, I was writing Abby instead. Again, tired, hungry, and crabby. I have no idea how people do this all the time. The first signing was fine because I was so busy playing googly eyes across the room with doofus during, and googly everything in the bedroom afterward. I can’t really complain too much about the second signing tour because, well, I didn’t make it through the whole thing. I still feel guilty at all the heat Kristen took for me cutting out halfway through.

  I’m in the twilight zone staring at Amy as she restocks all my stuff onto the table, preparing for tomorrow’s signing, when a shoulder bumps into me.

  “Whoa there.” I turn, holding out my hands to steady a drunk dude. I notice he’s wearing a name badge, which means he’s somehow a part of the signing. Getting a peek at his name, I realize he’s Winston Mills, the model Kristen caught privates deep in a reader in the bathroom last tour.

  “Whoa yourself, gorgeous.” He takes a step too close, and I can smell the alcohol on his breath. I proceed to take a step back, but he grabs my forearm. “Hey now, where you going? We’re just getting to know each other.” He pulls my arm, causing me to trip into him. My hands fly up, unintentionally grabbing at his chest. He takes my mishap the wrong way, as I watch his sleazy eyes light up. “Well, then, how about we take this to your room and continue our introductions?”

  My stomach clenches in an ‘I want to vomit’ sort of way. I push off him, but he doesn’t let me go, which quickly irritates me. “Yeah, no, thanks, pal, but you can let me go.” I try again, but he doesn’t seem to get the hint.

  “Feisty. Even better. Love when you women play hard to get. Did you want me to call you dirty names to get you all worked up? The last one, she—”

  “I think she said she wasn’t interested, man.”

  We both turn to see Chase, his cool factor to him, with his hands in his pockets, but there’s no hiding the blaze in his eyes. I push off Drunky Douche again and this time he releases me. He eyes Chase up and down before he speaks. “Sup, man. I know you. You’re the hockey player. Read some article you’re about to go pro.”

  Eyebrows raised, I turn to Chase, waiting for his response. I didn’t see or read anything about this.

  Not that I was stalking or anything.

  “Never believe what you read, man,” he replies in a cool tone, sidestepping the question.

  “Whatever you say. I bet you get tons of chicks, though. Sports and modeling at these things? I envy you, bro. We should swap stories over a beer sometime.”

  At that I cringe. Chase’s expression darkens.

  “Doubtful. Why don’t you keep walking, though? I’m sure this one has to finish packing up.”

  Douchecanoe turns my way, taking an eyeful of me, and steps back into my personal space. “Ahh, come on, babe. Don’t be shy. I’ll make it just as worthwhile.” He lifts his arm, his hand gunning for my cheek. Chase takes a defensive step forward as I slap Douche’s hand away.

  “Wow, you’re a piece. Seriously. If I were into guys who reek of cheap booze and even cheaper sounding pickup lines, I’d be all over it, but this time, hard pass.”

  His eyes flare with anger. It’s apparent he’s not used to being turned down. “Whatever, bitch.”

  I quickly take a menacing step toward him. “What did you just call me?” I put my hand up just as Chase comes at him, warning him to stay out of this.

  “I called you a bitch. I know about you. The one who thinks she’s all high and mighty. One who wrote that book trashing guys. Didn’t even finish the last tour. Cost a lot of readers money. Heard it was because you got played too—”

  Winston is cut off by Chase shoving him from the back. His arm goes up to swing when I step in between. “Chase, stop!” I yell and push him away. I turn to Winston, but he’s already walking away, but not before pushing my books off my table. The sound makes me jump, reminding me of when that psycho attacked me, almost knocking my table over.

  “Are you okay?” Chase is behind me, putting his hands over my shoulder.

  I knock them off, whipping around to face him.

  “I didn’t need you to do that,” I snap at him.

  “Yeah, well, he was being a prick.”

  “Yeah, and I don’t need you fighting my battles. I could’ve handled that myself.”

  His eyes become angry. “And I’m sure you could’ve, but I felt the need to step in.”

  “Well, next time don’t,” I finish and turn around, grabbing my purse and storming out of the banquet hall. Chase is on my tail, running after me, calling my name. I wish I could just click my heels and disappear. Magically be in my room so I don’t have to face him.

  “Katie, wait up.”

  I don’t listen, but pick up the speed.

  “Just talk to me.” He tries to stop me at the elevator, but I sidestep him, trying to ignore his dominance, his anger. “Katie, for Christ’s sake, stop. I fucked up, I know. But if you just hear me out, you’ll understand. I swear—”

  I twist, slapping the hand trying to grab for my shoulder off me. “I’m gonna understand? How so? As in understand that you lied? Betrayed me? Us? There’s nothing to under—”

  “There fucking is! Goddammit,” he snaps but quickly checks himself. He’s silent, trying to rein in his sudden anger. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell, it’s just—”

  “Just what? That you fucked up?”

  “Yes. More than you even know. But if you just listen…”

  “I can’t. And I won’t. I told you how I felt. I won’t lower myself and be fed more lies. I already told you, you won. You won my heart. Not sure what you do with it now, since it’s in fucking pieces,” I spit and turn back toward the elevator, smacking the call button for one to arrive.

  Chase takes a calculated step toward me. “Katie, please. Please just let’s go upstairs and talk. I promise you I won’t try anything. I just want to talk.”

  And trick me? Lie to me more? Bury me even further into the world of pain and regret I’m already suffocating in?

  “No,” I say, hitting the button again. I refuse to look at him this time. I can’t. I can’t see the guilt in his eyes, or the torment shining in mine. And there is so much of both. There’s regret that I ever let him get under my skin. Allowed him inside my simple world. Guilt that I’m so bullheaded and won’t let him explain. Convince me everything I’ve endured the past month has been a bad dream. And God, the torment I won’t give in and allow him to take me into his arms and cradle me until my heart feels whole again.

  A big mistake on my part, I turn and look at him. And I know just by the pain that radiates from his beautiful green eyes that he can’t do that. He won’t be able to wipe away the wrong.

  “Katie, please.”

  “Dammit, no!” I stomp my foot, squeezing my eyes shut. “What don’t you get? I’m done. This, us, we’re over. I don’t care what you have to say.” I reopen them and face him. “There’s nothing you can say or do to convince me that anything you’ve done or said was real. You’re a liar. A fake. And exactly the kind of person I despise.”

  I hate myself for the way the anguish seeps through his eyes. But I can’t worry about how he feels. I need to wor
ry about how I get through tonight. Tomorrow and the next day without feeling lost and broken.

  “So that’s it? You’re just done with us? Done trying?”

  “Yes.” I stare back at the elevator door.

  “I don’t believe you. I know you love me. I know you love me just as much as I love you.”

  “Well, then, you’re just as much a liar as you are naive.” I fight not to show the emotions tearing me apart on the inside. My breaths are calculated as I count with each lungful, knowing I cannot show weakness.

  “So, then there’s no reason for me to bother? You want me to leave you alone?”

  No. “Yes.”

  “And that’s it? You’re willing to just call it quits without even hearing me out?”

  God, I want to. “Yes.”

  “You know… I thought our story would end with for better or worse. Not this. You said you trusted me. But it seems I was wrong.”

  I want to slap him for trying to turn this around on me. I don’t react, but the single tear running down my cheek says enough. I want to scream I wanted forever too. But I didn’t do this to us. With malice in my tone, I respond, “Our story ended the moment you betrayed us—”

  “I didn’t betray us! Dammit, Katie, why won’t you listen!” His voice booms through the lobby, eyes turning our way. A few phones lift to snap bullshit photos, I’m sure for their Facebook gossip groups.

  I turn back finally, needing this to end. “Accept what it is, Chase. You’re starting to look pathetic. I’m not into you. To be honest, your bullshit did me a favor. Let it go. Let me go.” My last words take everything out of me, as I press the button one last time, finally having the damn elevator hitting the lobby floor and opening. I walk into the empty elevator and turn, seeing Chase’s wounded eyes. Angry. In denial maybe. I press the button for my floor and just before the doors close I speak. “Have a nice life, Chase.” I watch the doors close on his beautiful, crushed face.

  I won’t cry. I won’t cry. I won’t cry.

  I repeat this mantra with every sip of vodka I take.

  I will prevail. This is just a blimp in my path of self-preservation. I am stronger than this.

  I continue to chant more bullshit while I take another mini liquor bottle from the mini fridge and open it, pacing my room. My phone’s gone off about a billion times since I got back. None being Chase, thank God, because I’m not sure if I could handle anything more thrown at me after what just happened downstairs. Instead, it’s those annoying Facebook notifications, one after another. Ever since Kristen downloaded that damn app on my phone, it never seems to shut up. So and so posted in author group. So and so posted on author page. So and so posted AHHH! Social media just needs to die!

  Not to mention, Kristen’s also blowing up my phone wondering where the hell I’m at. I want to respond with in hell drinking my retirement fund in mini liquor bottles out of the hotel liquor cabinet, but that would also mean I’d have to admit I’m alive. And right about now, I’m not sure I can leave my room. And meeting her at the meet and greet she set up would entail doing just that.

  I’ve officially diagnosed myself with real life anxiety because my palms begin to sweat just at the thought of leaving this space and running into him. Into anyone. We weren’t quiet and there’s no doubt we made a scene. People heard. Documented it with their stupid phones and stupid social media. It’s only a matter of time before Kristen sees it and sends the troops to come find me.

  So, I continue to pace my room. I pace so hard, I worry they’re gonna take my deposit just to replace the carpet when I check out. I know I promised Kristen I’d make the meet and greet, but I’m not sure I can go down there. I’m fighting not to pack my bags and leave, sending a note to Kristen’s room telling her I’m sorry. I know she’ll be more than pissed with me, but she told me from the start she’d understand.

  Another ding echoes into my room and I find myself taking down another mini bottle, before checking my phone seeing another text from Kristen. I open the message, reading her urgent plea for me to hurry and how the rampant group of fans is starting to get antsy.

  “I need to do it for them. He won’t even be there,” I tell myself, going for my shoes and sliding a shoe up my heel. There’s no way Chase would go to an author meet and greet. Especially one that my best friend is throwing just for me.

  I take a few deep breaths, trying to get my shit together. I need to rid myself of anything Chase Green and get myself back on normal ground. I brush my teeth and re-apply makeup that’s worn off from the long day. I decide to change into a tight-fitting dress Randy lent me. It completely clashes with my red Converse, but I can’t give a shit. I do one thing out of the norm and apply a small dab of red lip gloss. I figure I’m feeling rebellious, why not.

  My phone dings again with yet another Facebook notification as I finally leave my room. “God, how do you turn these damn things off?” I mumble, pulling my phone from my back pocket. As I swipe to unlock my phone I read the most recent notification.

  Carlie Lieber tagged Charlie Bates in a post in New YorkAuthor Signing Attendee group

  Oh, did she now.

  What the hell does she have to post about? I open the app and go to the group page, which takes forever since I don’t even know how to use the damn thing. Once I make it to the group site I scroll until I see it. And my heart plummets.

  Posted is a selfie taken of him with a pretty blonde on his lap. The attached message reads:

  He smells just as yummy as his lap feels! <3 <3

  I read the message two more times and stare at the picture longer than I should. That… that… “asshole.” I hiss, kicking the wall in the hallway. I kick it again, and then kick the fake plant minding its own business in front of the elevators. He can stand there begging me to give him a chance one minute and two seconds after telling him to beat it, he’s already opening his lap up to the entire female population, with open arms! Or legs, in this matter!

  “What a jerk. What a fucking jerk. Jerk. Jerk. Fucking jerk.” I’m a broken record at this point. All that bullshit he fed me. Didn’t take him long to get over the fact that I wouldn’t succumb to his fucking bullshit. If he thinks he’s going to get back at me by pulling this stunt, then he’s way wrong.

  I’m out of the elevator and headed toward the hotel bar like a woman on a mission. I’m a wee bit drunk, so I manage to trip over my own shoe getting out of the elevator and stumble twice more once I hit the packed bar. Kristen spots me right away and stands, waiving her hand to call me over. I use my eagle eyes to search out her surroundings when I see it. Or him. And all. Of. Them. Deep breath. You can do this. Okay, now use your feet and walk. I wish that was easier said than done because I sway and bump into a waitress holding a full tray.

  “Shit, sorry!” I apologize to the waitress just as I make it to the seated area.

  “Hey! Where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling and texting you.”

  They chose the lounge seating, which means two couches facing one another. That also means Kristen seems to be on one side with a group of people, and Chase, accompanied by a flock of fans, directly across from her.

  I take a quick glance at Chase, making sure he’s paying attention. “Oh, sorry. I had some people in my room for a pre-party.”

  Kristen has a strange expression on her face, clearly knowing I’m lying. “Oh. Like who? Isn’t that why we’re having the meet and greet?”

  I shrug. “Yeah, but this was a private party, if ya know what I mean.” I wink at her and throw myself onto the lounge chair.

  Kristen retakes her seat next to me and flags down the waitress. The group of women surrounding Chase, some from the signing whom I met earlier today, don’t even acknowledge me. They’re all too busy fighting for Chase’s attention. And let me tell ya, if I wasn’t already agitated by him and his intentions, I’m even more so now. I lean forward, grabbing for Kristen’s martini on the tiny cocktail table, but I accidently knock over a bunch of glasses.r />
  “Whoa, careful, honey. Have you been drinking?” Kristen picks up the spilled drinks, while I ignore her and slam the rest of her martini. “Hey… slow down, killer, the night’s just getting started.” She takes her now empty glass and sets it down. When the waitress finally comes by Kristen orders herself a new martini and me a vodka tonic.

  “Excuse me.” I flag her down before she makes her getaway. “Make that a double. Actually, just bring two doubles. It’s gonna be a fun one tonight.” I smile and turn away from the waitress but not in the direction of Kristen’s worried eyes. The bad part is the only other way to look is in front of me.

  “So, Bates, who’s your new lap dog?” I watch him tense, but the blonde next to him eagerly smiles. I swear she just licked her lips like a hungry animal.

  “I have no idea what you’re referring to, but I’m clearly just sitting here. What about you and your room party? What the fuck is that all about?” His eyes are on fire.

  Good. I hope they burn and fall out. I lean back, feeling a bit dizzy.

  “You sure you’re okay?” Kristen butts in. Giving Chase the evil eye, she asks, “Did something happen?”

  “Seriously, I’m fine,” I snap and sit back up, the dizziness hitting me again. Thankfully the waitress shows up with our drinks, distracting Kristen from monitoring me. Grabbing both my glasses, I chug the first one, sloppily placing it back on the waitress’s tray. It’s when I sit back again that the dizziness hits full force. Because in front of me is a beautiful redhead now sitting next to Chase.