Losing a Piece of Me

by K. B. Andrews

  Her smile widens. “Uh-huh. He is one sexy guy.” Her eyes glaze over and a dreamy look covers her face.

  I lightly smack her arm. “You are an engaged woman now.”

  She shrugs. “So? I can still look. I don’t know why you try staying away from him. Anyone can look at the two of you and see how much you love each other.”

  I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. Mom would have a fit.” I can’t tell her the real reason.

  “I’ve always been so jealous of you. Did you know that?”

  I scoff. “You, jealous of me? What’s wrong with you?”

  She seems taken back. “Are you kidding me? You live your life the way you want. You don’t let people push you around. You don’t let Mom push you around. You don’t have to answer to anyone. You’re free. You’re strong. Not anything like me. I haven’t gotten to make a decision since…” She stops and thinks. “I don’t know, ever?”

  I sit up a little straighter and study her.

  “I’m serious. Mom is the one planning my wedding. She picked out my dress and she’s the one who introduced me to Richard to begin with. My whole life, I’ve lived for her.”

  Sadness settles over me. “I’ve been disowned. Do you want that?”

  She shrugs. “I don’t know. Sometimes I think I do.”

  “Trust me, you don’t. It’s lonely. You have no family, no one to talk to. You start from scratch. It’s not the place to be.” I stand and walk across the room, needing distance. I lean against the dresser and cross my arms.

  “Then why do you do it?”

  My eyes fall to the fluffy white carpet and I shrug again. “It’s just who I am. If I can’t be true to myself, who am I really?”

  She stands and walks up to me, gently laying a hand on my shoulder and looking me square in the eye. “And that is why I’ve always been jealous of you. You’re just you. You don’t give in. You know what you want and you take it. You’re always so sure, and you aren’t afraid of anything.” She hugs me close.

  If she only knew.

  Hesitantly, I return her embrace until she pulls back and wipes her own tears away. “I should probably get ready for brunch. “I’ll see you in a bit?”

  I nod a confirmation and she heads out.

  Steph’s words echo through my head while I shower. Is she right?

  She said I was strong. Am I strong? I’ve never considered myself strong.

  Am I making a mistake with Striker? Was last night a good thing or a bad thing?

  The confusing cocktail of emotions starts to bring on a headache, so I force it all out of my mind as I finish getting ready for brunch. I am left with a few free minutes before heading downstairs, so I occupy myself by packing my bags. After brunch, I’m leaving. I’m going back home.

  The brunch is being held at the country club again, and I take my seat at the breakfast table with my parents, sister, her soon-to-be husband, and his parents. Everyone seems so happy. They all smile and talk about the dinner and the upcoming wedding, and my mother even mentions planning their honeymoon.

  I politely brood in the corner, only speaking when spoken to. I’m lost right now. I feel like I’m being pulled every which way, and I can’t make up my mind.

  And despite it all, I feel numb. No stress, no anxiety, no anger, no sadness. Just numb and callused.

  My skin feels tougher, as if any unjust words from my parents will simply bounce off of me without any affect. I’m wearing my suit of armor and it feels strong today. Knowing that their words can’t harm me brings me a small measure of inner peace.

  I sit and pick at the lint on the white table cloth. I drink my orange juice out of a flute and poke at my fruit with my fork. I never meet their eyes and they never include me in their conversation.

  When Dad pays the check, a surge of energy and relief bursts through me, and I’m ready to hit the road.

  Should I tell Striker goodbye?

  I know I should, but I can’t.

  My mother gives me a cold goodbye and my dad and sister offer me a hug before I leave them sitting at the table to say goodbye to their guests.

  When I reach the exit, my feet double in speed, trying to get to my car as quickly as possible. I’m digging through my purse looking for my keys, but when my head pops up, I see Striker’s bike parked next to my car with him casually leaning against it.

  Good thing that armor is still in place.

  When his eyes lock on me, his jaw sets and I can see the heat burning behind his eyes. I prepare myself.

  I come to a stop directly in front of him, but don’t speak. Neither does he, he just studies me.

  Finally, after what feels like forever, he stands up straight. His eyes flash to my packed bag in the back seat of my car. “So what, you were just going to sneak out of my bed this morning and take off back to wherever in the hell you’ve been hiding all these years? You weren’t even going to tell me goodbye, were you?”

  “I was,” I lie. I wasn’t, but he doesn’t need to know that.

  He watches me and lets out a breath of air. “No, you weren’t. Don’t fucking lie to me,” he says, pointing at his chest.

  I rub my forehead. “What do you want from me, Striker? We slept together, so what? It was a mistake and we both know it.”

  His chest is rising and falling quickly. His nostrils flare and his eyes burn with anger. “A mistake? That’s what you’re telling yourself?” He scoffs and turns to walk away from me, but then turns back. “No, you know what? Fuck it. If this is it, I’m just going to say it and you’re going to listen. I don’t care how much it scares you.”

  I square my shoulders, ready for his blows.

  “Last night meant something to both of us and you fucking know it.” He points at me. “You love me, you’re just too goddamn scared to do anything about it. What happened to the old Lex? Huh? You remember her? The Lex that wasn’t afraid of anything. The Lex that did what she wanted, everybody else be damned. The Lex that loved me, and loved me fiercely. A love so fucking strong that nobody will ever fucking compare. What happened to her?”

  He is standing so close I can smell him. I could reach out and touch him, but I don’t. I feel myself begin to crumble as a large brick wiggles loose from my walls and starts to plummet to the ground, but I catch it just in time. Mentally, I pick up that piece and stuff it back into its place in the wall that has been threatening to come crashing down since I drove back into this town.

  I raise my chin and take a breath. “That was a long time ago. She’s gone. All that’s left now is me, and I don’t give a shit if you like it or not.” I turn away, but he catches me by the arm and spins me around, pinning me against the side of my car.

  “You think that last night was nothing? You feel nothing?” His breath blows hot against my face.

  Something catches his attention and he turns to look at the entrance of the club, but doesn’t move. My eyes follow his to see my mother and father standing there, watching us. She covers her mouth in shock while my dad stands still with his hands in his pockets, looking angry.

  He turns back to me. “See if you feel anything this time.” His lips crash into mine and his tongue dives inside. He gives so much more than he takes with this kiss. He presses himself against me while he holds me to him. I couldn’t escape if I wanted to, but I don’t want to.

  His lips glide against mine and I feel my body erupt in tingles. Every hair stands on end and almost vibrates. My stomach tightens as my body is engulfed in flames. I become oblivious to my watching parents, and to the fact that my dad may very well be angrily walking over here right now to shove Striker off of me. I feel everything he has to give me.

  My wall shakes. It starts to crumble and just as it explodes and bares all of me, he pulls away and looks into my eyes. “Yeah, that’s what I fucking thought.” He turns and hops on his bike. The loud sound of the engine starting suddenly cuts right through me. He revs the engine as one last ‘fuck you’ to my parents and then drives away with
out a look back.

  I’m left frozen in place. What just happened? How did he do that? This isn’t me, my wall was up. It was fucking up and he just came and knocked right through it with ease.

  I turn to look at my parents, but they are no longer there.

  I rush to the driver’s seat and drive away as quickly as I can.

  Tears sting my eyes, but I force my eyelids to stay open so the fresh breeze blowing in through the window can airdry them before they get a chance to fall.

  Fuck him. Why would he do this to me? Doesn’t he realize what could happen? Of course he doesn’t, because I never told him. I couldn’t tell him. I’ve kept this secret so long that giving it up would be like losing a piece of me.

  It’s mine. It’s mine to let sit inside of me, eating at me, being a constant reminder of how fucked up my life is. It’s my deepest and darkest secret and the fucked-up part is, it’s not even my secret. Not really. Well, okay, I guess a little piece of it is, but the threat, that wasn’t on me. That was the small piece of information that could destroy my family.

  “Stay away from my son or I’ll make sure they all know. Wouldn’t that be the talk of the town?” He shoots me a cocky grin that highlights his double chin. “Everyone will be talking about how the hotshot lawyer that runs this town fucked up. I bet Mommy-Dearest will love that. Tell me, how well will she take it when she knows she’s the talk of the town? Do you think she will leave your dad? If she does, where will you end up?” He laughs again, knowing he’s getting to me.

  That memory is so vivid and burned into my mind that, instead of seeing the road through the windshield, I watch the mental imagery unfold over the dashboard. My mind is jerked back to reality by the sound of my tires making contact with the rumble strip on the edge of the highway, and I jerk the wheel back into my lane. My heart is pounding and my chest hurts, my breathing quick and shallow.

  An exit is visible. I’ve only made it one town over, but I take the opportunity to get off the highway to calm down and catch my breath.

  I pull into the closest gas station and throw the car into park. I slide my seat back as far as it will go and lean over with my head between my knees.

  I slowly count backwards.

  Ten. Breathe, calm down.

  Nine. Breathe in, breathe out.

  Eight. Calm your racing heart.

  Seven. Stop thinking, just count.

  Six. Get control, build your wall.

  Five. I see those bricks going back into place.

  Four. The wall is halfway up. My breathing slows and becomes deeper.

  Three. Keep going, your heart is returning to normal.

  Two. Almost there. Keep breathing slowly, deeply.

  One. That’s it. I can do this.

  One last long breath clears the fog and I sit up slowly. I close my eyes and breathe, not thinking about Striker, the kiss, last night, his dad, or my parents. I stop it all.

  I slide my seat forward and put the car in drive, anxious to get back on the highway and leave that town behind me.

  Chapter 8

  I wake up with a smile, remembering the night before. She felt something, I know she did. Her body said it in the way she held me against her. The way her heart pounded against her chest, in rhythm with mine. The way her eyes stayed wide open and locked on mine. She saw every bit of love I have for her and, in return, I saw every bit of love she has for me.

  My arm reaches across to feel for her, but the bed is cold and empty. I sit up and peek out of the window by my bed. Her car is gone.

  She’s gone.

  Fuck.

  I knew it.

  I pushed her too far. She’s running again. Away from her feelings, away from me.

  I lean over and hold my head in my hands. What am I going to do? How can I make her see it? She has to see it.

  Uneasily, I pace through the house to the kitchen. While drinking from the carton of orange juice, my eyes land on a piece of paper on the counter top. I toss the empty container in the trash and take a step closer to see it clearly.

  It’s a note from Lex.

  I stare at the seven words for several minutes, not daring to touch it.

  I shouldn’t be surprised that she left. I pushed her, I knew I shouldn’t have, but I did and now she’s gone.

  When does she leave? What if she’s only in town for the weekend? What if she leaves today?

  I shower quickly and dress even quicker, then hop on the bike and head straight to her parents’ house. Her car isn’t in the drive.

  Fuck, she’s already gone. She took off and didn’t say goodbye, again.

  It’s not just her car that is missing, though – none of her family’s cars are in the driveway either. Usually her mom’s car is here during the day, but the driveway is completely empty.

  An idea flashes in my mind. It’s a long shot, but I have to try.

  I drive to the country club and sure enough, her car is here.

  I don’t go in. It’s not like it was last night. The parking lot is damn-near empty. If I walk in there, everyone will know.

  So I wait.

  She doesn’t see me waiting for her, leaning on my bike, until she almost reaches her car. I pour my heart out for her and she has the nerve to tell me that last night meant nothing, that it was a mistake, that she feels nothing for me. Passion burns hot in the pit of my stomach, mixed with a sharp, consuming anger from her words that I have never experienced before.

  No feelings for me? Time to prove it, sweetheart.

  I give her all of me. Every last fucking drop that I’ve been hiding deep inside of me for six long years. I give it all to her. I let it flood out of me and into her. When I pull away, I can see the crack spiderwebbing across her walls, until the entire foundation crumbles and exposes her core. Rather than calling her out on it, I leave her to figure it out herself.

  I know I won’t hear from her again, and if I do, it will be a long fucking time, but I know I’ve planted a seed of doubt inside of her. She’s doubting everything right now.

  “Hey, Pops.” I take my usual seat at the counter and he pours me a cup of coffee.

  “Tomorrow’s the big day, huh?”

  I nod and force a smile. “Yep, sure is. I get to pick up my check tomorrow and finally start my business.” Needless to say, the accomplishment of achieving my dream of running my own company fills me with hope and excitement, and a part of me is ecstatic. No more getting shit on by every incompetent foreman having a bad day, no more fighting with my supervisors. But happiness is buried deep in a pit of sadness and hurt after the last encounter with Lex. When I left her standing in that parking lot, staring after me, I left a bigger piece of myself than I had foreseen.

  “I have something for you,” Pops says as he shuffles into the back.

  I sip my coffee and wait.

  He comes back and slides an envelope across to me. I eye him before I pick it up and open it, unsure of what I’ll see. A small piece of paper is inside, which I remove and look over several times before comprehending what it is.

  It’s a check, written out to me, for a hundred grand.

  I’m speechless. My eyes go from the check to him and back. “Pops, what is this?”

  “Tell that big corporate bank to shove their money. You don’t need it anymore.” He offers me a wide grin.

  I don’t want to offend him, but I say, “Pops, I can’t take your money.”

  “Bullshit. Take the money. What do you think I’m going to do with it?” He flattens his hands on the counter to support his weight.

  I shake my head and rub my brows, then look back at the check. It’s tempting, but I can’t do it. I did not befriend Pops for his money. He’s busted his ass his entire life to earn this, I have no right to take it.

  “No, and that’s final. I mean it, Pops.” I slide the check across the counter.

  He looks pissed, but he picks it up and folds it in half. He slides it into his pocket and pats it. “Fine. I don’t know why you
are so damn stubborn.” He turns and refills my coffee cup.

  He leans over, resting his forearms on the counter and his eyes stay with mine. I don’t know what he’s searching for, but after a long minute of awkwardness I ask, “What the hell are you doing?”

  His eyes squint and his brows pull together. “I’m trying to figure out if you caught your fish.”

  I look at my coffee and shake my head again. When I was growing up, Pops used to tell me that there were ‘plenty of fish in the sea’ whenever I would come home from school, heartbroken after being rejected by whichever girl I had professed my love to that week, and it was a saying that always roused a chuckle from both of us.

  “Oh, I caught her alright. Catch and release.”

  He seems taken back. He stands up straight and pulls over his barstool, which he positions right in front of me and sits down. “I know I’m getting old, Strike, but it sounded like you said catch and release.”

  I nod. “That’s what I said.”

  His hand flies unseen through the air, faster than my eyes can follow it, but I feel it sting as it pops me on the back of the head.

  I jump and rub the sore spot. “What the hell was that for?”

  “Have you lost your ever-loving mind? Why’d you go and do a thing like that?” His bushy, gray eyebrows furrow together, casting a shadow over the wicked gleam in his eyes.

  “She’s just not ready.” Pops remains motionless as I sip my coffee. He just sits there across from me, watching and waiting for me to continue.

  Fuck, it doesn’t look like I’m going to get out of this.

  “We hooked up last night.”

  “When you say ‘hooked up’ you really mean…”

  A small chuckle leaves me. “We slept together.”

  He nods, urging me on.

  “When I woke up, she was gone.” I shrug.

  “What? You just let her go? You didn’t go after her?”

  “I did go after her. I found her at the country club. She’s leaving, going back to wherever the hell she’s been hiding. She wasn’t going to tell me goodbye. Again. Fuck, it feels like I’m eighteen again.”