Forever (Destroyed by Love #1)

by Abrianna Denae

  My life isn’t easy; it’s easy for the privileged to judge things they don’t understand. They’ve been spoon-fed their entire lives, never understanding what the word surviving meant. The real world is going to knock every single one of those rich kids on their ass, oh, but they’ll have daddy’s money to fall back on.

  That’s what I don’t want. I don’t want pity from a man I never met. From a man who left and then died, not that I blame him. My mother isn’t the easiest person to be with. But who leaves their two-year-old with an alcoholic mother? I’ve given up trying to figure out what happened between my parents.

  I’ve never looked up his family, even though I have their contact information. What’s the point? They’ve never tried once to reach out to me.

  A sharp knock on my door drags me out of my own head. “Yeah?” I call out. The door opens slowly, revealing Ava on the other side.

  “Mary’s leaving, and we’re hungry.” She says. There is no emotion in her voice.

  “I’ll be right there.” Sitting up, I run a hand over my tired face. Grabbing my glasses, I slide them up my nose. Ava turns and shuts the door, loudly, behind her. Sighing, I run my hands through my messed up hair.

  Quickly I change into a T-shirt before heading downstairs. Mary’s getting her stuff together as I round the corner to the kitchen. She smiles quickly at me before turning back to her purse.

  She’s five years older than me; at twenty-one, you would think that she’d be getting ready to graduate college. While she does take online classes, the girls take up most of her time. Without Mary, I don’t know where I’d be.

  When I hired her two years ago, it was out of desperation, the previous nanny, Mrs. Fletcher had just quit, and I was in a bind. My mother didn’t care too much; she set up the appointments, but it was my job to do the interviews. Not many take fourteen-year-olds seriously when it comes to things like job interviews.

  But Mary, at only nineteen, took me seriously, she acted like I was an adult, it made me like her instantly. Adele was only two, a handful and a half herself. Then there’s Ava, who’s not the easiest person to get along with.

  “How was your day?” I ask, moving around the counter to pull down a pot.

  “It was good, the girls didn’t fight or anything today. Ms. Kelsey said that Adele had a good day at school.”

  “Good, Ava didn’t throw any tantrums or anything?”

  “No, she was good, she had a little attitude when I picked her up, but that’s normal.”

  Nodding, I fill the pot with water and place it on the stove. I’m not in the mood to cook anything elaborate tonight so mac and cheese it is.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Mary says, as she walks out of the kitchen.

  ***

  After dinner, I gave Adele a bath and put her in bed. Ava’s been in her room since then. My mother hasn’t left her room since I put her in there. She’s probably passed out, dead to the world until the morning.

  I find a half empty bottle of vodka under the kitchen sink when I get out the cleaning supplies. Dumping the contents down the drain, I have to stop myself from smashing the bottle against the counter.

  My heart pounds in my chest. I’m tired of feeling this anger, this hatred towards the only parent I have ever known. But I can’t stop it. It’s eating away at my insides. My sisters see too much for being so young, but there is nothing I can do to stop it.

  I don’t want to go upstairs. My life is routine, the same thing every day. If I allow myself to fall into my bed, like my exhausted body wants, I’ll fall into the hole of oblivion.

  I clean the entire downstairs. Mary does a deep cleaning once a week, but on nights that I need to let myself go I redo it. Such a domesticated thing, what normal sixteen-year-old cleans their house top to bottom? None, I’m not normal, my life isn’t normal. It will never be.

  As I clean, I daydream of dark curly hair and murky brown eyes. I’ve known this girl for two days, and she’s already invading my thoughts. Maybe it’s the way her eyes follow everything so closely, like she doesn’t want to miss a thing.

  She hasn’t talked to me, but I noticed that she looks at me a lot. Our first encounter yesterday morning was terrible on my part. I could have attempted to make things less awkward for her, but I didn’t, so what kind of person does that make me? Especially when I caught her sitting with Mikayla Paisley, then when our eyes locked I wanted to run after her.

  I feel a draw to this girl. A girl I don’t even know.

  A girl who might be in just as much pain as I am.

  Chapter 4

  Wyatt

  It’s Friday, the dining room is busy. Not only is it the weekend, but today marks the first day of the spring season. From today until whatever day in September at the end of the summer season, it’s going to be very busy around here. Which is good for me, I can get some overtime, the more I work, the less time I have to spend at home.

  But that means the more I’ll have to rely on Mary to take care of the girls. That’s going to be the tricky part.

  I’m curious to know who decides when the seasons change. The past two and a half months have been relatively normal, a bit slow at times, but enough members to allow us to keep our jobs.

  This is a warm-up. The out-of-towners will stay a day or two at the resorts and fill up the tee times with their temporary passes. It’s the summer time that gets really interesting. Then families get temporary memberships for weeks or months, I don’t mind the extra work, I just wonder how they know that it’s time to go to the beach.

  It’s like everyone just knows that it’s the best time to vacation. All at the same time, they seem to realize this, which is when the job can get tricky because we are suddenly swamped with a bunch of people who expect high-class dining in a family friendly setting.

  Some of the lunch-time staff shoot me grateful looks when I walk in the kitchen door. Brenda, who I know has worked a double today, unties her apron as fast as she can. I’ve barely tied my shoes and buttoned my shirt when she throws her apron in her locker and slams it shut.

  “You and the new girl can share my section until John gets off. Tony’s been working like a madman all day, Davis might have an aneurysm at any moment, and Margie is so overwhelmed with temporary memberships that it’s not recommended even looking at her.”

  “Thanks, good to know.”

  “Tell the new girl I’ll see her at seven-thirty sharp for her second breakfast shift tomorrow.” Brenda throws her bag over her shoulder, flashes me a flirty smile, and spins around so fast I fear she might tumble out of her high heels.

  Marley

  The initial dinner rush goes by fairly smoothly, Wyatt continues to ignore me. I can’t help but sneak glances at him, what I’ve learned about him this week intrigues me.

  That’s because I haven’t learned much, he keeps to himself, doesn’t talk much, but I get the sense that he’s always watching. Last night he had to rush out work an hour before his shift was over. Much like he did last Friday it started with him getting a message on his phone.

  Tony covered the rest of his tables, I didn’t ask questions, I wonder, though, if that is a frequent occurrence. Most places wouldn’t allow you to keep your job if you had to frequently drop everything and run off.

  My night is winding down. Tony made up a schedule that I noticed was almost the exact same one for Wyatt. Maybe it’s because we’re still in school. Gran didn’t like it at first. The fact that I worked until eight or nine on school nights, but I don’t mind. I’ve always been good with keeping up with school, work, and whatever else I was doing.

  The hostess sits a mother with two little girls in my section. When I walk up to the table, the oldest girl looks up and smiles at me, she has long curly brown hair and bright baby blue eyes. Her mother doesn’t look up or say anything.

  “Can I get y’all something to drink?” I ask when the mother finally does look up she sweeps her eyes up and down, giving a slight sniff when she’s done. She’s no
t the first person to judge me. These privileged members somehow think that they’re better than me.

  I ignore it, because there is no point, their opinion means nothing to me.

  “Yes, I’ll have a house margarita.” Her voice is cold and distant, like she’s use to talking down to people; it takes a real effort to keep the smile on my face.

  Her daughter orders water for herself and her sister. I feel a little bad that they have to put up with a mother like this. Something in the little girl’s face tells me that this is a common thing.

  “Tony, can you pick up the margarita I just ordered?” I call out, grabbing two kid cups and filling them with ice.

  “Sure, give me one sec.” The only part I hate about working in the dining room is that I’m not allowed to serve alcohol. It became a real issue during the dinner rush when both Wyatt and I were relying on Tony to fill our drink orders.

  “Not old enough to serve alcohol?” The bitch has a condescending tone in her voice. Normally her long red curls would make me long for my own natural hair, but I can’t group myself with her.

  “I’ll be seventeen in September, ma’am,” I say as sweetly as I can. “Are you ready to order?”

  “No food for me, get them whatever they want.” She waves her hand in the direction of the girls and goes back to her phone. My ears feel hot; I try not to let my anger show as once again, the older of the two orders for them.

  By the time I’m able to clear off their table, all of my other tables are empty. “I have to go, I’ll see you later.” The bitch grabs her purse and walks out, leaving her two daughters sitting at the table with an unpaid bill. At first, I’m too stunned to say anything.

  “Can I have the check, please? My brother is going to come pay for it.”

  “Um, did that actually just happen? I’m going to go get my manager, stay here.”

  “No, wait.” The brown-haired girl grabs my arm. “Just please bring the check, my brother will take care of it. Please.” I don’t know if I should believe her, but the way she’s looking at me, practically begging, has me nodding.

  The girl lets go of my arm and wraps hers around her little sister. I walk slowly to the kitchen trying to process the last five minutes.

  “Give me your card.” Wyatt’s voice comes out of nowhere, making me jump. Turning my head, my breath catches in my throat as I take in our close proximity.

  His clear blue eyes are even more startling this close up, his jaw is set; I can see the frustration clearly. “Give me your computer card so I can pay the damn bill,” he says angrily.

  Wyatt lets out a sigh and reaches into my apron pocket. I can hear my heart beating in my ears as he grabs my computer card. I stand dumbly to the side as I watch him slide my card, then take a credit card from his wallet and pay for the bitch’s four margaritas and her daughters’ dinner.

  “I left you a nice tip,” he says as he signs the slip and sticks it and my card back in my apron.

  Wyatt

  Son of a bitch. This was not how I intended for Marley to meet my fucked-up family. Everyone who works in the dining room knows who my sisters are, they help me keep an eye on them when they’re here. I was hoping I would be able to ease Marley into the fact that my mother is a selfish bitch.

  The way Marley walked into the kitchen when they first got here indicated that she was pissed but trying not to show it. I pretended I didn’t notice. It wasn’t until Tony told me that my mother was seated in her section that I understood. I didn’t have any tables, so I was taking a quick break. There was nothing I could do at that point.

  I watched my mother, her body language told me that she wasn’t in a good mood, and so I stayed back, not wanting to cause Marley any more problems.

  Now I’m going to have to figure out what to say to her. I wasn’t planning on this. I have no idea how it’s going to play out.

  Marley doesn’t say anything when I walk back into the kitchen. I try not to look at her as I walk towards the back room. My shift is pretty much done, I already called Mary, and she’s going to meet me at the house. I don’t know what my plan is after I drop them off. All I know is I can’t be there.

  “You don’t look like them.” It’s quiet, almost like she didn’t want me to hear.

  “They have a different father.”

  “Oh, you don’t look like her either.”

  The way she says ‘her’ like it’s a bad taste makes me smile a little. “Thank God for that.” She’s leaning against the door frame when I turn to walk out of the room. I’m going to have to touch her, I’m going to have to breathe her in.

  The thought intrigues me, I want to feel her body heat, and I want to smell her sweet scent. I remember the two little people in the dining room and remember why I can’t let her get close to me.

  “I have to go.” Marley nods and moves away from the door, allowing me to pass without having to torture myself with things I can’t have. “Thank you,” I whisper, I hope she doesn’t hear me.

  But when I get to the end of the hall and look back I catch her looking at me. When she nods her head slightly, I know she heard, and for some reason that brings me comfort.

  April

  Chapter 5

  Marley

  Gran knocks on my door way too early. It’s Sunday, my day off. It’s also eight-thirty in the morning. “Come downstairs.” That’s all she says before she leaves the room.

  My feet and back hurt from working a double shift yesterday, I just want to sleep until I have to start my third week of school tomorrow. But I throw off the comforter and slowly sit up. Pushing my hair out of my face I sigh, I don’t want to get up, but I know Gran will be back in five minutes if I don’t.

  As soon as my feet hit the last step, Gran is grabbing my arm and steering me towards the front door. Her grip is gentle, yet firm; she opens the front door and pushes me out of it.

  It does cross my mind that I’m standing on the front porch in nothing but a tank top and sleep shorts, but the driveway is so long that nobody but Gramps and Gran can see me. And all I can see is Gramps standing next to a car. A car that I have never seen before.

  Gran nudges me forward, forcing me to walk down the steps until I stop right in front of Gramps. “Well?” he asks, “It’s an Audi A6, we weren’t sure what to get you, but since your last car was a BMW, I figured you didn’t want another one of those.”

  “Um, what? This is mine? You bought this for me?” My eyes are involuntarily filling up with tears.

  “Well your birthday isn’t until September, which is a long time to go without a car, your dad told us what you said about the one you had, so yes, we bought you a car.” Gramps shrugs like it’s no big deal.

  “Thank you.” I launch myself at him. Gramps stays still for a second, unsure what to do. I haven’t been very affectionate lately. Then he lifts his arms and wraps them around me, squeezing me tight.

  “You’re welcome, Sweetheart.” He kisses my hair. Backing away from him, I swipe away the wayward tears.

  Gran gives my shoulders a squeeze as she places a key in my hand. “You deserve it,” she whispers in my ear.

  “Where’s Dad? I can’t believe he approved this.”

  “Of course he did,” Gramps says. “Why wouldn’t he? You need a car and there wasn’t much he could have done anyway. We still would have bought it. I don’t need my son’s permission to purchase things for my granddaughter.”

  “He’s not here, is he?” I don’t know why I’m asking. He spends the least amount of time around the house as he can. Which means, since I go to school and work, I don’t see him very often. If I didn’t know any better I’d say he had a girlfriend.

  “He left this morning.” Gran sounds sad, like she’s disappointed in my father’s poor parenting skills, but it’s not surprising to me. He has never had to be a hands-on parent. He always had a wife for that.

  “Why don’t you go for a little spin?” Gramps asks, stepping away form the car.

  “Um, I do
n’t have any shoes on,” I reply, looking down at my bare feet, which are starting to get a little warm, standing on the gravel driveway.

  “After breakfast then,” Gran says. “Come on. I’ll make biscuits and gravy.”

  The three of us walk back in the house together. I look back at my new car before shutting the door behind me.

  ***

  I don’t have any friends, no place to go, yet I got in my car and drove aimlessly around.

  I find myself sitting in the middle of a grass field. There’s a soft breeze, causing the long grass to sway.

  It’s peaceful here, in the middle of nowhere. I’m not sure where here is. I drove around for an hour before stopping. I left the club about ten miles back or so. Not good if something happens, but I’ve been the only living thing out here for a long time, so I’m confident that I’ll be fine.

  I could keep going I suppose, drive until I hit the next small country town, but it’s not what I want. As much as I want to run away, if there’s anything I learned in the past three weeks. It’s that you can’t run away from your issues. They’re always there, waiting in the shadows, waiting for you to let your guard down so they can sink the knife in further.

  The peaceful sound of nothing is interrupted by the loud rumblings of a motorcycle. I try to ignore the sound that comes closer and closer, and then suddenly it comes to a stop. I turn my head to look over my shoulder as the rider dismounts the bike and begins to take off his helmet.

  When the rider removes his helmet, I immediately turn away. Is this really my life? Am I doomed to endure the shit of life forever? The last person I could care to see while I’m sitting here feeling sorry for myself is, of course, the one who shows up.

  The sound of approaching feet causes me to stiffen up. I’m hyperaware of every move Wyatt makes. When he settles himself on the ground next to me, I have to force myself to keep my gaze forward.