Shattered Heart

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Shattered Heart Page 32

by Ann Stewart


  “I fucking hate you! I hate what you’ve done to me. You made me feel. I was fine before you made me care. Before you made me love you.” His screams elevate to the point I have to cover my ears. And then he puts his fists into the wall again.

  I step back until my calves are against the foot of his bed. Anger has obviously sobered him and now he’s in self destruct mode. I inch closer towards the door as Alex clutches his hands on top of his head, breathing hard.

  I don’t get far. As soon as he realizes I’m trying to escape, he stomps over to me. I stand my ground with him knowing that I deserve his anger. I’m not scared of him. I know he won’t hurt me, regardless of his state of sobriety. Looming over me, he waits to make sure he has my full attention. “You running off to him?” he growls at me.

  “No, I’m going home.” I keep my voice calm as he continues to look at me menacingly.

  “You let someone else stick his dick in you.” I clutch my eyes tightly. “You fucking let him come inside you. Was it good?”

  I shake my head as moisture escapes my tightly fastened eyes. Oh, God. I can’t do this.

  “Did you pretend it was me when you were with him?” I bite my lower lip to hide the trembling. He pushes his face closer and the only reason I know is because I can feel his breath against my cheek; his lips skimming across my skin.

  “Look at me,” he snarls. “Did he make you come? Did he get to hear all your moans and whimpers that were only supposed to be for me?”

  He wants me to look at him. Fine. I open my eyes, showing him the dripping emotion as tears start to cascade down my face. I look at every inch of his rock hard body. From his sex lines that peek out from the waist of his slacks, up the ripples of his six pack, to the peeks of his chest, the stubble of his jaw, until I meet the intensity of his eyes. If looks could kill.

  Alex lifts his arms out to the side as if I’ve crucified him. I attempt to push against his chest and get nowhere, fast. Looking past his attempts of self destruction, I love him. I always will. Today. Tomorrow. Forever.

  “I’m looking at you, Alex. I know you don’t understand it now, but someday…” My voice trails off, my body trembling as he pushes his way towards me. The look of menace in his eyes is frightening. So unlike the Alex that was once mine. “No matter what, Alex,” I plead. He promised, but I guess so did I.

  “You’ve ruined me. You’ve killed everything I had left. Completely shattered my existence.” He keeps talking, but when my eyes can no longer comprehend the man shouting at me, I block out his words. I deserve this and I’ll take it for him. Right now he can use me as his verbal punching bag. I can only hope it will quell the storm brewing inside of him so that he doesn’t go straight back to the bar.

  “I fucking loved you!” he erupts again. He’s unraveling right in front of my eyes. If I wasn’t convinced by his words or the holes in the walls, the picture frame he just yanked from the side table solidifies my assumption. He tosses a photo of the two of us across the room before grabbing my shoulders and begins to shake me. “How could you do this?”

  I panic. Thoughts swirl through my mind. Alex’s words of anger, the look of danger in his eyes, and the scent of alcohol catapult me back to old memories. Memories I never thought I would have to relive. I panic because as Alex shakes me I know our baby is in danger. The thoughts or concerns I never had when I was pregnant with Cole’s baby are in the forefront of my mind. I tremble out of fear. Fear that the next few moments will determine the rest of our future. I want this baby. I need this baby. I need to know that I didn’t put us through all of this grief to just end up with nothing left.

  Frantically, and with all my might, I push Alex away. Clutching my belly and backing away from him I scream with the sound of a thousand lions, to make him drop his hands. Dropping his arms, he backs away and almost collapses. His eyes soften as he watches me protect our unborn child. The realization he was making a huge mistake clear as day on his face, he pulls at his hair and scrubs his face.

  After a minute, he takes a step forward, reaching out. I don’t give him a chance and back away even farther, shaking my head while silently more tears fall. “Please don’t hurt me!” I scream, stilling Alex in the process. “I want this baby, Alex. I want this more than you could ever imagine. This can’t happen. Not again. Do you hear me? I can’t let you hurt her because you’re angry.” I shake my head as I slide down against the wall clutching my belly.

  His voice is calm as he drops to his knees in front of me. “Hart… I’m not him…I’m not Cole. I would never hurt the baby and I would die before I hurt you. I’m just so…I wanted this too…I just wanted this to be true.” He drops his head, wrenching his hands together.

  “But I guess…in the end you’re lucky the baby doesn’t have my genes. You’re lucky you’re not stuck with a permanent piece of me because I just can’t do anything right. I would have fucked this up, too.”

  I almost lose my resolve and tell him everything, but he beats me to it. Just as I’m about to tell him my lies, Alex’s hand braces my neck, gently pulling me to him. He leans in and kisses my forehead, lingering for a moment before pulling away. “I’ll love you forever, Hart.”

  Alex stands and stares at his bed before letting himself fall against his cool black sheets. I pull myself up and watch as his eyes flutter shut. “I’ll love you forever,” he mutters again before his breathing evens out.

  “I’ll love you forever,” I whisper before walking out the door.

  CHAPTER 19

  Friday, December 14, 2012

  “What can I get for ya, sweetie?” Overly cheery at six in the morning, the petite waitress incessantly chews her gum while she stands with a pen in hand waiting for my order. Her gray hair held back in a black scarf reminding me of a style from the fifties.

  Okay, I’m sure you’re wondering where the heck I am and why. Over the past week, Oliver asked, then begged, then pleaded for me to go to San Diego with him. Each time I said no. But, when I got the text, his “last ditch effort,” his words not mine, to leave with him, I took the opportunity. I know, I know, probably not the smartest move, but can you blame me? With all that’s happened, good and bad, I needed some space. If only for a few days.

  When Oliver picked me up from my apartment after I left Alex’s, I’m sure he could tell I was crying. I’m also sure the few tears I shed on the drive over weren’t masked by the darkness of the night. But he didn’t pry or push me to talk about the situation. He probably assumes my tears are because of Alex. He could have said a whole lot of hurtful things, because he hasn’t been shy about despising Alex, making him the villain, when in reality Alex is only a pawn in my wicked game with Arianna.

  So here we are, in sunny San Diego at a diner close to where Oliver lives, ordering breakfast. When we pulled into the parking lot, Oliver muttered the only words exchanged between the two of us since we left Las Vegas. He explained that it was still too early to head to his house, saying something about not waking his parents.

  Truth be told, I may have to thank him later. I’m pretty sure Oliver also wanted to give me a chance to get my head wrapped around my thoughts before jumping into a family filled weekend. Something we both know I’m not use to.

  “Just some coffee and the special,” I mutter. The waitress turns her attention to Oliver. He’s clearly comfortable with his arm draped over the back of the booth as he looks over the menu. “Oh wait, can you change it to orange juice instead.” I mentally slap my forehead. Coffee equals caffeine, which is bad for the baby.

  “Sure. Fresh squeezed every morning.” I muster a smile even though I’m dying inside. “You want your usual Ollie?” She leans over and rustles his already messy hair.

  He smiles sweetly up at her and nods his head. “How’s business, Gale?” Oliver glances around at the full tables. The place isn’t big, but it’s an older café which has been kept up with a bit of maintenance. The black tables and red chairs situated in the middle of the room seem new, but the
cash register shows its age. “Seems to be going good.”

  “What? You want your old job back?” she laughs, and when I look over at Oliver he scrunches his face. The friendly banter between the two is endearing.

  “I don’t think I ever got a paycheck here. I always had broken plates and free meals deducted from my check.” Oliver looks a little satisfied with himself, revealing this tidbit of information.

  “Free meals?” I question, jumping into the conversation with a raised brow.

  “Oh…Casanova over here used to offer meals to all of the pretty girls. With those eyes and sharp wit, you’d swear we were serving up women and not food. But then again, that’s how he met the banshee.” Banshee? “Speaking of Melanie, you must have the darndest luck because she’s out on the balcony having breakfast with a fellow who looks more than a little questionable.”

  Oliver’s face darkens as he leans over to look out the bay windows along the far end of the room facing the coast. Outside, the tables are lined with white cloths which are now basking in the sun’s rays. From where I’m sitting, I can’t see what he sees, so I stare up at Gale who is looking at Oliver with pity. She seems almost sorry she mentioned this so-called banshee.

  I try to bring Oliver’s attention away from the couple who seem to have captured his attention. “So, how many free meals are we talking about?”

  Gale winks at me, secretly thanking me for ending the awkward silence. “Tons. What Oliver never realized is that they came in just to see him.” Gale leans over and pats Oliver’s cheek. “He didn’t need to offer free meals for attention.”

  The carefree mood returns as his green eyes shine brightly up at Gale. “No, I realized it. I just got bigger tips when they thought they were special.” Oliver chuckles when Gale playfully slaps his bicep.

  “I’ll go put in your order, big head.” Gale walks away and Oliver’s bright eyes follow her. I get the feeling he’s avoiding looking at me, knowing that ever since she brought up this Melanie person, now I’m the one with questions.

  He continues to look around, sipping his coffee that was just dropped off to the table. “You gonna tell me what’s wrong?” Way to avoid the elephant in the room, or better yet, outside on the balcony.

  “You gonna tell me why this Melanie person has your panties in a bunch?”

  “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” He lifts his brows suggestively, although I know he’s uncomfortable with this topic by the way his jaw clenched when I said her name. “Ladies first.”

  Squinting at him, I worry my bottom lip and decide there’s nothing to tell. Not right now. “It’s nothing, Oliver.”

  “Can’t be nothing if it sent you all the way to California to escape it.”

  “I just needed some distance; a minute to think,” I say a little too quickly, even though it’s the truth.

  “Is it Alex?” I wait a moment, but end up nodding. Oliver sighs, waits a beat, and then continues, “He doesn’t deserve you. I wish you would finally realize that there’s more fish in the sea, specifically a green eyed one sitting right across from you.” He’ll never give up.

  I blush. “One day you’ll realize he’s really not a bad guy. If anything, it’s the situation that’s keeping us apart, not Alex.”

  “Well, thank God the universe knows better.” He sits back and I notice his eyes darting over to the windows facing the balcony again. Now’s my chance.

  “Your turn.” I face my hands towards him palms up, pushing him to explain, before clasping them in front of me.

  “Melanie is my ex-fiancée.” Hold up. Thee ex-fiancée? The one who slept with Alex? That ex-fiancée? Oh, shit. “Yes, the fiancée who slept with Alex. I can tell by that ‘I just swallowed a bug’ look on your face what you’re thinking Ely.”

  Hell, I don’t even know what I’m thinking. I’m still trying to wrap my head around everything. “What is it that you think I’m thinking?”

  “Well…” His eyes graze over my face, my hands clutched around my glass of juice, to my slumped shoulders. “I’m guessing you’re wondering what she looks like or wondering if he thought she was good in bed. Or maybe you want to know if she still thinks of him or him of her.”

  I swallow the bile rising in my throat as Oliver continues. I guess at one point I did think of those things, but right now I’m still a little stunned. Not once did I think I would ever meet her, yet here I am in the same restaurant. And of course, now that he’s brought it up, I’m not going to be able to stop thinking about it.

  “You’re thinking of everything I’ve thought of since it happened. What do you think that does to a man? When your fiancée…the mo- the woman you’re supposed to spend the rest of your life with ends up in bed with a business competitor. Even worse, I saw the look on their faces right after it happened, and if you’re really wondering, they both look satisfied.” Nope, didn’t need to know that.

  It shouldn’t bother me because it was way before we met, but to hear of anyone experiencing pleasure at the hands of Alex, springs unnatural feelings to the surface. In addition to the unrivaled jealousy, I also feel an irrational anger towards her. In the process, she hurt Oliver. Someone who I can honestly say is a friend. He didn’t deserve the pain he went through and he really does need to let this guilt go.

  “Oliver, I can’t tell you how you should feel. But someone cheating doesn’t mean you weren’t enough for them. A time, a place, an opportunity arose and instead of making the right decision, she gave into her curiosity.”

  Oliver clenches his teeth and lifts his sweater in frustration, throwing it on the seat of the booth next to him. Oh, wow. If I haven’t said it before, then I’ll say it now. Oliver is attractive, hot even. In just a white ribbed tank and some board shorts, his tattoos cover his shoulders and expand to his biceps which are now fully on display. I know, I know, not the best time for the reminder.

  “You still love her?” Oliver diverts his eyes back to mine, which have continuously drifted towards the windows since Gale mentioned her name.

  Oliver shakes his head, spacing out while he toys with the salt shaker. “I don’t think I ever did. We were more together out of obligation than love.”

  “Obligation?” I ask, in confusion.

  “There’s something I need to tell you,” his voice drifts as he stares at his clutched fists.

  “Oliver?” A seductive female voice causes both of our heads to turn. Wow! I’m assuming the Victoria Secret model look-a-like standing before us is none other than Melanie. Her black hair and bright blue eyes contrast, bringing attention to her full lips and high cheek bones, and that’s just her face. She has a kick-ass body, as well. Her tight jeans and black tank top show all of her curves.

  Forgetting the male companion she has her fingers entwined with, Melanie stares down at Oliver. As I watch the exchange, so does he. I cringe when he pushes his greasy chin length blonde hair out of his eyes so he can watch Melanie watch Oliver.

  “Hey.” Oliver seems tense as he looks between Melanie and her man. I know Oliver said he no longer loves her, or thought he never did, and right now I one hundred percent believe him. If looks could kill, both of them would drop dead on the spot.

  “Oh, where are my manners? Rex this is Oliver, my ex.” Rex wraps a possessive arm around her waist and pulls her closer. Melanie doesn’t seem too concerned with her man. Instead, her eyes alight with want as she eye-fucks Oliver, thoroughly examining his flexed biceps, caused by his tight grip on the table.

  I don’t know how I’d feel in this situation. Technically, it wasn’t Rex who caused Oliver to break things off, but even in Alex’s defense, he didn’t know Melanie had a fiancé. But as I sit here, witnessing one of the most awkward situations ever, I realize I need to do something to salvage the slow downturn of Oliver’s mood, along with his self-esteem. He’s already questioned himself more than enough. If I can do no more than help him save face, I have to try. It’s the least I can do.

  I reach over and pull
his grip from the edge of the table and bring it closer, clasping our hands together. I can at least give his ex something to think about next time she lets a good man go and breaks his heart for no other reason than to obtain an orgasm. Yes, it was with Alex and I’ll admit that I can understand the appeal, but regardless, it was wrong.

  “Babe, are you going to introduce me?” I put on a fake smile and look over at Oliver with my brow raised. Hopefully, he picks up what I’m throwing down and goes with it. His face eases, his boyish smile finally shining through as he squeezes my hand. Just play the role, Oliver.

  “Sorry baby, Elyssa this is Melanie.” His eyes never leaving mine, he clings onto my hand and tilts his head in her direction. I was beginning to wonder if he temporarily lost the man I know him to be. His confidence that I normally see at work, talking to clients, is finally shining through.

  I turn to Melanie and am met with an icy glare, through her thick mascara coated eyes. “Nice to meet you.” I give her a fake smile before turning to Oliver, running my tongue over my lips simulating a look of passion.

  “I didn’t realize Oliver was dating.”

  “Well, it didn’t start that way. At first it was just amazing sex, but I guess I couldn’t get enough. So, I decided to keep him. All to myself.” Reaching forward, I brush my hand over the muscles of his forearm, up his bicep, and settle on the stubble on his jaw. As my fingers run across the abrasive hairs, my mind wanders to Alex. An odd moment to think about him when I’m pretending with another man to make his ex jealous. But, it is just that…pretending. Because Alex is my reality.

  Oliver blushes, probably for the first time ever. “How’s Mason?” her harmonious voice is laced with venom. Uh, who’s Mason?

  “He’s fine.” I look over at Oliver’s hesitation. “He’s a smart kid, has straight A’s and everything.” If I wasn’t sitting so close, I would have missed his under the breath comment, “No thanks to you.” Again I ask, who the heck is Mason?

 

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