“I’m sorry that you seem to have wasted your time coming out here Gabrielle.”
“It’s never a waste when I get to see you, Danny. Would you like to meet for dinner tonight?” she asks almost offhandedly I would think if I didn’t know better.
“Sorry, I have a prior engagement,” I reply making no more of an explanation.
“Tomorrow?” Now she sounds almost desperate and I can feel the annoyance buzzing around in my head.
“Gabrielle, you need to find more sites. When you’ve found them, please let Layla know and we can arrange another meeting. Until then I really don’t see what we have to discuss?” I tell her keeping my face impassive.
“Oh, yes, very well,” she snaps getting up to leave. She walks away from our table and then seems to hesitate before turning around and coming back. “You know, Danny, I just wanted to have a meal with a friendly face. I came out here, obviously with the wrong intention, I can see that now, and maybe I’m a little overbearing but, at least I’m trying. Everyone knows that Shannon had to chase you for two years just to get you to date her. And now look, you’re divorcing her. You carry on this way and you’ll die alone,” her voice rises with every word, the last part is shouted and now everyone in the dining room is staring at us. I stand up and Gabrielle blanches, her breathing heavy after the outburst.
“Ms. Tinder, I’m very sorry you feel that way. But I’m glad you were able to air your views, even if it was to everyone in here.” I say, gesturing to the room. “Now that the air is cleared between us, and we both know where we stand, maybe you could get back to sourcing me a site for my new restaurant?” I question and then stride out the room to gazes of astonishment at the lunchtime show that she, maybe we, just provided.
“Ahhh,” I let out a low rumble of pleasure as I stroll out of the sea. I feel refreshed, invigorated like I’ve washed the first half of the day away. Dropping my board and grabbing a towel, my day gets rocked for a second time in the space of a few hours when I finish drying my face and look up to see Bel sitting on the beach. It’s obvious she hasn’t spotted me as she stares out to sea, with what looks like a thousand things on her mind. I peer down at my board grabbing the back of my neck to take a minute. Gabrielle was right earlier. It did take Shannon years to even get me to date her, but not because I don’t want to have someone, but because nobody has ever been her—Bel. Even so, Gabrielle doesn’t really know me, none of them do. I’m used to getting what I want, and although I never really date and only married Shannon because she told me she was pregnant, I’ve had my fair share of women. I’ve never been shy of taking what I wanted. Bel, though… she brings out a different side of me, a loving side. A side no other woman has ever really experienced from me.
“Fuck,” I whisper.
As I walk toward her, she lifts her head and I watch the second her brain registers who I am. Anger, followed by sadness, then fear swim in her delicate green eyes. I stop at her feet.
“Bel.” I still can’t believe I’m saying that name again.
“Danny,” she mutters and looks down at the sand.
I want to throw something and scream with happiness at the same time. I’ve thought about this moment for years. Never really knowing how I’d feel. Now I know. It’s a mixture of anxiousness, anguish and hesitancy, all coated with a layer of hope.
I’m not sure what I thought would happen by coming down here. He always came to the beach to surf, whenever he needed to relax. Everyone thought football was his thing, but I think he was born to be on the water. I didn’t plan on seeing him here, although now he’s back in town, the chances were fifty-fifty. I wasn’t sure if he would still surf, but the passion he always had for it tells me I’m kidding myself by saying I didn’t come down here for the sole purpose of seeing him. Now he stands in front of me and with my heart lodged in my throat, I don’t know what to say. I catch his eyes then turn my head back to the sand, trying to gather my thoughts. Sighing he sits down at my side, pulling his wetsuit down to the waist. I can’t see him as I stare at my toes immersed in the sand. I don’t want to look, but I can feel him there, right next to me.
“Bel,” he says my name again and a shiver runs down my back. That one word brings pain and comfort all at the same time. “What are you doing here?” he asks.
I pick up the sand and watch the grains run through my fingers. Heat radiates through my chest as I answer “I don’t know why you’re asking me that question. I live here. What the hell are you doing here?” my reply is filled with bitterness and I hate it.
Danny snorts, “Fair question. I came for business.”
“You own my pop’s ice cream parlor.” It’s not a question, I know the answer. Since running away from him I’ve pieced it all together, there’s no other reason for him to have been there.
When he says nothing, I finally look up at him. He stares at me and nods, sadness or melancholy crossing his face, I’m not sure which. I don’t know his looks anymore. It’s been too long. Now that I’m staring at him, I can’t tear my focus away from his face. His eyes are still piercing blue, and apart from having slightly gray bags underneath them, they look exactly the same. The features of his face burn a hole in the pocket that I keep his drawing in. I miss him.
Fuck, but I miss him. I don’t think I’ve realized how much until this very moment. It’s easy to shut someone away. Put them in a box and lock it tight, when they’re not in your life, refusing to go unheard. When they’re there, in front of you, in all their glory… well, that’s a different thing. He’s still beautiful.
Fuck my life. Why couldn’t he be fat and balding like Keith?
I look up to the sky. “Why have you cursed me?” I whisper.
“What?” he replies to my momentary loss of mouth control.
“Nothing,” I mutter, annoyed. “Why?” I say the one word softly, hoping he’ll understand. I’m not sure my voice is capable of saying much more, with each word the wobble in my throat gets harder to control.
“I came back once, years ago.” His words make me look out to the sea, hurt that he didn’t come find me. But at the same time knowing that he couldn’t have. “I was thinking of buying a house here, after all, it is my hometown.” He stops and I chance another look at him. His head hangs, he props his elbows on his knees which are bent up, and rubs his head with one hand. “I was only in town a day. I heard some things, things about how happy you were, I didn’t want to see it, I was a coward, so I decided not to stay and to never come back. When I told the real estate agent to quit looking, I noticed your pop’s shop. She said it was about to go on the market and I knew,” he stops and takes a breath, turning toward me, “I knew, Bel…” the words spill softly from his lips, “…I had to buy it. I had to have a piece of you. I’m sorry, this is inappropriate, but you have to know the truth. You deserve it.” His gaze swings back out to sea.
“Who said that?” My voice is barely audible.
“Said what?” His face is pulled in, lines etched across his forehead, showing his confusion.
“Who said I was happy?” At my words, his body rocks back slightly.
“You’re not?” His question is like a bullet in my heart.
“Never…” is all I reply. Again afraid at the words, both good and bad that might slip out.
“Bel, I didn’t… I never—”
I cut him off. “It doesn’t matter. It didn’t matter back then, so it sure as hell doesn’t matter now.” I stand up abruptly, feeling suddenly out of place. Brushing the sand off me, I walk away.
“Bel… Bel…” I continue moving. “Shit, Bel, don’t keep walking away,” he shouts and I spin around against my better judgment.
“Me!... Me walking away? That’s rich coming from you!” He’s made up most of the distance between us with his long strides, but I take the last step toward him. “You!” I point my finger towards his chest. “You left me. You fucking left me!”
Grasping the back of his neck he swallows, pain in his eyes. “I
did what was best for you back then.”
“Who are you trying to convince, Danny? Me or you?” I bite back.
“Bel… I… you would’ve been left behind.”
“Whatever the choice it was mine to make. We both got closer. Both of us. We knew it, there was no denying what we felt back then. You could have talked to me. Instead, you made me feel worthless, like I was a game, a bit of fun while you were biding your time waiting for college.”
“That was never how it was. If you didn’t feel so bitter right now you’d see that,” he argues back.
“Bitter? What exactly do you expect? You come back here, successful, still gorgeous. I’m sure the world would drop at your feet. What do you want from me? An ego boost? Well, here you go. I loved you back then. You know I did. If you were any kind of a man, you would admit that. You turned me away. Told me you didn’t feel that way. You were a coward, and because of that I condemned myself to the life I got. Don’t worry, that’s not your fault, I’m taking full responsibility for my own fuck ups. You should do the same.” My voice is starting to break and I need to get away from here. My whole body feels weak. I thought I was stronger than this, but I’m not. I’m getting there, but this is too much. It’s an emotional overload and not in a good way. I take him in, I can’t help it, there’s something that will always draw me to him. His head is bowed, hair wet, and I watch the droplets of water chasing each other down his chiseled jawline. The pain etched across his face causes an ache in my chest. I need to escape before I’m crippled with his pain as well as my own. Leaving him standing there, I once again start to make my way from the beach.
“Bel, I wanted to be with you. You have to believe that. You’re the only woman I ever really wanted. I would always choose you,” he tells me, his voice tight.
Looking over my shoulder as I continue walking, throwing my parting shot, “That’s good for you, that you would choose me now. But know this, Danny, you didn’t choose me that night and you took my choice away, when you sent me from you as a hormonal teen, believing what you said was gospel. You took my choice from me. I can’t forgive that.” I try to ignore the look on his face as I turn back and commence walking. Knowing he can’t see me. He can’t see the tears free falling, he can’t hear the moment my already battered heart stops beating.
“Fuck… fuck, fuck, fuck!” I watch her leave. I can’t do this again. I can’t watch her walk away. I can’t try to be the good guy. Shit, this time, I know I won’t be the good guy if I let her go. With my wetsuit half off and water still dripping, I run after her. The wind feels cold on my face as I jog across the beach. Fuck! I’d forgotten how hard it is to run in sand. I keep my eyes on her back as she darts across the road and then skirts along the sidewalk until she reaches the bus stop, then I watch her sink onto the bench. Leaning forward she pulls her legs up resting her heels on the edge of her seat then buries her head in her knees. Even from here, I can see her shoulders shaking. She doesn’t know I’m chasing her as she allows the emotion to overtake her. I get closer having no idea what I need to say, but knowing I need to say something. I move over to her, watching as her back stiffens then relaxes again. She must think I’m just someone waiting for a bus. I take another step until I’m in front of her and crouch down, looking up into her eyes.
“Bel,” I whisper and her back stiffens again but she says nothing.
“Go away,” she sobs. “Please. Allow me some dignity.” I grind my teeth at her words. I want to know what’s happened in her life. Why she hasn’t been happy? At the beach, I had time to take her in. Her beauty has grown. She’s naturally stunning. I’ve never forgotten her eyes, and although they are so much sadder now than they ever were before, they can still mesmerize me.
“Bel,” I plead. “I just want to talk to you,” I murmur, my hand lingers in the air above her knees, but I pull it away before allowing it to touch her. Knowing that will be a step too far. She barely wants to talk to me, she’s not going to be happy if I lay my hand on her, as much as my body naturally wants to.
“I can’t do this right now. Please leave me alone.” She sniffles, and although her head is buried, I can hear her voice yielding. Like the fight has left her. And it hurts. Bel always fights, she’s a survivor. Now she sounds pliant and it doesn’t suit her.
“Okay, not now. I’ll leave you alone right now, but tomorrow I’m going to the shop. I’ll be there from ten until eleven in the morning. Then I’ll go back in the evening, four until six. Come see me, Bel. Please? Even if it’s only for ten minutes. Please come see me,” I beg her. Still she says nothing, so I sigh and walk away. Again. I can’t keep leaving this woman who holds my heart, even if she doesn’t realize it. Every time I do, it breaks me a little more.
“Sir?”
The word sounds muffled like I’m underwater. Or maybe they are.
“Sir, are you okay?” The words are nearer now, but as I attempt to move my head in the direction of the voice, the whole of my body suddenly becomes a lead weight and I find myself stuck in place. I feel a warm hand on my shoulder before I register the voice again. “Mr. Quinn, I’m usually reluctant to advise you on your drinking. However, in this case, people are staring, and I’m not entirely sure this is the way you want to be seen.” My brain finally connects with the voice.
“Layla.” I will myself to raise my head, which I realize now is laying cheek down on top of a bar. The moment I move my face toward her the room spins and blurs. I know Layla is closer when I smell her scent. Then she talks and her hot breath flutters across my cheek.
“Mr. Quinn, I need you to assist me, I’m trying to guide you to your room. The hotel staff have asked me to remove you from the bar area, other guests have complained. Especially as some families are now trying to dine. An evening meal with their children and you’re completely intoxicated and trying to sleep on the bar.”
“Only my face,” I tell her unnecessarily.
“Okay, Sir, only your face is resting on the bar. Either way, you need to leave as they don’t want someone as intoxicated as you asleep on their bar at six on a Monday evening.”
Forcing my body to stand, pulling my muscles tight and stretching my tingling legs, I realize most of the people at the bar and in the restaurant are staring at me. I take them all in with a slow perusal, stopping on the ladies and letting the corners of my mouth tip up in a grin. Their eyes change quickly from scrutiny to hunger, a few even lick their lips. I allow Layla to move me through the restaurant until we reach the bank of elevators.
“She hates me,” I explain uncharacteristically once we get inside.
“I’m sure she doesn’t,” Layla replies pressing the button for my suite.
“I broke her,” I continue, ignoring her words and hanging my head as I lean against the wall.
“You can make it up to her.” She sighs, and my brain somehow registers the exhaustion in her voice.
“How do you know what I’m talking about anyway?” My mind has managed to pick up on the flow of conversation and piece it together.
“You kept talking about it at the bar. Just to yourself from what I could make out, but still, there was enough information for me to piece together and I know the history, remember Danny?” She only uses my first name when I’ve worn her down so much that her professionalism goes out the window. It’s rare, and it makes me take notice. “For her to react that way means she still loves you. She may be hiding it, even from herself. But it’s there. There cannot be that much hurt, pain, and anger for someone who means nothing if she’d moved on then you wouldn’t matter. And you obviously do.”
Her words try to pass through the mess that is my head right now, and I wonder if I still have a shot.
Looking at Layla and whispering, “I still love her.”
“I know,” she replies, but I don’t miss the sad smile that lingers in her eyes before she clears it.
I close my eyes and wonder what to do. I can’t watch her walk away again, but there are other things to co
nsider. Will I make her life harder if I push? She’s fragile like she’s holding herself together by sheer willpower alone. I’ve caused Bel enough pain already, I don’t want to be the reason that the sadness surrounding her, finally destroys her.
There are times in your life you make the right decision. The decision that’s best for everyone. The choice that you feel needs to be made like someone is guiding you and steering you down the path that was always meant to be just yours. Then there are the decisions that you make for yourself. Either because you don’t have to worry about anyone else, or maybe, because for once, you’d like to choose something to make you happy. Sometimes you make those decisions because you’re sick of making the other choice all the time, always taking the same route. None of it really matters, we go on a journey, whether it’s hard or easy, triumphant or failing, long or short, it’s a journey all the same. As long as we learn from it, become better people for it, grow and evolve and someday impart our wisdom to someone who needs it, then we should class it as a win. So why do I second guess everything I do?
When I pulled myself out of bed this morning, I momentarily thought about making Keith his breakfast as I have for all these years. It’s routine, not so much a choice as it is a chore that’s been drummed into my subconscious. My responses are automatic, just like the way I deal with him and have dealt with him for all these years.
I married him.
That’s on me, it was my choice.
A decision I made.
I was stronger back then, I could have stopped it—said no. I chose to marry him because I was hurt. I realize now that what happened was just Danny making his own choice. He thought what he was doing made things easier for me. But I’d already made my decision, so when he told me that what I wanted was no longer a possibility, I crumbled. I was led easily after that, mainly by my fear. Looking back at my young self, I realize I was still trying to work out the world and my place in it. When Danny rejected me, I assumed it was because I was unworthy. Keith was a sure bet, so it made sense to stick with him. A few years, and some experience later, my life outlook has changed dramatically. I’ve always been treated like a second class citizen by Keith, but it’s not really his fault. He wouldn’t be able to treat me that way if I hadn’t enabled him to. I’ve made this my life. There’s no one else to take the blame. The fault sits squarely on my shoulders. That was my realization this morning. So when I finally pulled myself out of bed, I decided to do something different, something for me. I ignored Keith’s breakfast and walked out. In times past, I would have made my way to the shop, hiding in my own head, debating with myself over what I should do. Then after hours of internal chatter, I would go home, mentally exhausted and no further forward. Nothing changes and I’ve been a coward for so many years it’s hard to know if there’s anything else in me anymore.
Finally Unbroken Page 6