Enduring Everything (Marked Heart #1)

by M. Sembera

  Settling behind my desk, I felt sick.

  I couldn't stand Marabeth and I had the feeling she was being underhanded. At the same time, Jackson didn't argue the fact that they had moved to his desk after they were on the couch. Fighting with that mental image, I shouted in my mind 'Not with her!'

  Strolling out of Jackson's office, Marabeth wore a wide smile across her face.

  Glancing over at me she held an earring between her fingers, informing, "Found it."

  My head instantly started pounding and there was a sharp pain behind my right eye. Trying to calm down I thought 'I'm having a stroke' as I rubbed my palm across my forehead. Thankfully, the phone started ringing and I was able to concentrate on something other than what they could have done in his office.

  ~

  The office was empty with the exception of Jackson and I when I stepped in and set a few papers that required his signature on his desk.

  "Sorry we didn't really get to talk today, I'm still trying to get the Lawson account corrected," Jackson said.

  Ready to get out of there before he saw the envelope I slid in between the pages, I replied, "That's okay, I have to get going."

  "See you tomorrow," he said before I replied, "Umm-hmm," and walked out.

  Grabbing my purse off of my desk chair, I only made it about five steps towards the door.

  "What's this?" Jackson questioned.

  I gave a heavy sigh before turning and informing, "My letter of resignation."

  Frowning at me, he asked, "Why is it on my desk?"

  "Because I'm resigning," I stated.

  Shaking his head, Jackson tossed it on my desk, saying, "No, I won't accept it."

  I watched him turn to walk back into his office. Frustrated, I headed into his office grabbing my letter of resignation off of my desk along the way.

  Making my way directly to his desk, I placed my resignation back on his desk.

  "Why are you doing this?" he asked, glaring at the envelope.

  Narrowing my eyes at him, I snapped, "Because I don't want to work here anymore."

  Picking it up he tossed it in the little trash can next to his desk, saying, "I don't accept it."

  "You don't have a choice," I assured before saying, "Think of it this way, now you can play in your office with Marabeth all you want."

  I didn't mean to bring her up but it just came out.

  Appearing confused he asked, "What are you talking about?"

  Rolling my eyes, I said, "Sure you don't. I bet people lose earrings in your office all the time when you're moving from the couch to the desk."

  After a moment of appearing baffled, he corrected, "Ren, she was in here when I came back from lunch on Friday. I told her to have a seat at my desk so I could give her her evaluation."

  Pausing for a moment, I was relieved.

  Sneaky and underhanded, Marabeth was the worst kind of girl. She knew exactly what she was doing. She had no honor. Still, she was beside the point and not even the reason I was quitting.

  Shaking my head, I relaxed a little. This conversation would have been so much easier if I was mad or if it didn't have to happen at all.

  "I'm sorry for accusing you of being with her," I apologized.

  Smiling, Jackson replied, "So we're good now? Baby, I would never..."

  Stopping him, I said, "I'm still resigning."

  Jackson's face instantly fell as he asked, "Why?"

  Drawing in a slow deep breath, I shared, "Because you hurt me and I can't come here and see you every day."

  Shaking his head, I could tell he still didn't understand.

  "Sophia came over yesterday," I started before my voice grew shaky, "I can't believe you would do that to me. I can't trust you."

  Walking closer to me, he argued, "I fixed it for you."

  "No, you went behind my back and betrayed my trust," I fussed.

  "How can you be mad at me for helping you?" he questioned.

  "I didn't need you too!" I shouted before fussing, "You didn't listen to a single thing I said the other day."

  "Yes I did. You are doing good and now there's one less thing for you to deal with."

  Frustrated, I snapped, "You didn't hear what I was saying. You never have. You think your helping but you're hurting me."

  Growing defensive, he stressed, "She needed to know why."

  "It wasn't your place to tell her, just like it wasn't your place to run to your dad about my father when we were in high school," I growled at him.

  Appearing angry, Jackson yelled, "How can you not be grateful for that?"

  Pounding my fingers into my chest, I shouted, "I am, to Gus and your dad, but I told you when I found out, I didn't know how I felt about it. And you knew that I would be furious with you for saying anything to them about what my father did to me. That's why you didn't tell me."

  Shaking his head and scowling, he griped, "I couldn't sit there and let him continue to hurt you."

  "So you hurt me instead? You know, finding out that you were the reason my father stopped hitting me took away the one good thing I had after they died. It was stupid of me to think that he decided it was wrong or maybe he actually cared about me but I did. And you took that away from me. Now instead of letting Sophia have the time to realize I may have made mistakes but I was a good mother to her and forgiving me, now it's because she feels sorry for her pitiful abused mother."

  Jackson started to panic as he took a few steps towards me, "Ren, Please."

  Taking a few steps back, I shouted, "No!" Shaking my head at him, I shared, "I know we have hurt each other. Neither of us meant too but it still happened. This is the point where we both realize that we aren't right for each other no matter how bad we wanted it. I'm not right for you and you're not right for me either. I need someone who will support me in what I'm doing not run behind my back and fix things for me."

  "So now, I'm just another one of your steps?" he asked.

  Shaking my head at him, I swore, "I'll never be over you but this is over."

  The look on his face showed me that he finally realized what I had been trying to get through to him all these years.

  Walking out of his office, I pulled my resignation out of the trash and set it back on his desk, after informing that I would be by at lunch time the next day to collect my things from my desk.

  27

  Overdue Appreciation

  On my way to Amila's to visit Charlotte, I thought about a saying I once heard, something about hell and good intentions. There was so much history between Jackson and I, one would think we would have known better. All the years I spent wondering what it would be like and it turned out, neither one of us really knew what we were doing. Jackson and I were basically fumbling through a dream and once it came true, we had no idea how to hold on to it.

  Growing impatient as I sat in a line of cars, there shouldn't have been any traffic at this time of day but being stuck for over twenty minutes showed otherwise. I watched a large truck with some sort of crane attached to it as it flew by, from the opposite lane. Trying to focus on what was up ahead, I could see a faint flashing of red and blue and realized there must have been an accident.

  Blocked from all sides, I reached into my purse. Pulling out my cellphone to call Amila, I saw a familiar face in a suit walking away from whatever was stopping traffic.

  I quickly rolled my widow down and shouted, "Hey," at the man, stopping him dead in his tracks.

  Fiore looked directly at me and narrowed his eyes before recognizing me and giving me a little sideway grin.

  "What's going on?" I asked.

  Making his way around to the passenger side of my car, he opened the door and slid in, saying, "You haven't heard?"

  "Heard what? I was on my way to the Roberts' house," I answered.

  A satisfied smile spread across Fiore's face as he shared, "The large tree in the center of town fell on top of a car that was waiting at the light. Broke the drive's neck. They believe he was killed on impact.
"

  Shaking my head, I blurted, "Oh my gosh, who was it?"

  "An old friend of mine," he smiled wider before saying, "I had to come see for myself."

  I sat still for a moment before clarifying, "Henley's dead."

  Rubbing his hands together, Fiore nodded, saying, "I need to celebrate."

  "Celebrate," I scowled, looking down.

  Appearing disappointed in me, he griped, "Don't tell me you're sad."

  Without looking at him, I shook my head.

  I wasn't sad but I wasn't happy either. There was no sense of relief or remorse. There was nothing. It was as if a stranger had died without the natural sorrow for loss of life. Placing my focus back on Fiore who was almost giddy with a hint of satisfaction, I grabbed my phone and called Amila.

  After telling Amila something had come up and that I would call Charlotte later, I tossed my phone back into my purse.

  "Are you going back to The Office?" I asked.

  Narrowing his eyes at me, Fiore replied, "Why?"

  Matching his glare, I replied, "Let me take you to dinner."

  "To?" he questioned with a suspicious tone.

  Shrugging, I answered, "To let go of old grudges, say goodbye to the past..."

  Appearing put out, he said, "I'd prefer a leggy blonde but I guess you will do."

  Rolling my eyes, I faced forward and waited for the traffic to clear.

  Wading through traffic for forty-five minutes in awkward silence, I was thankful to arrive at the restaurant. The only sound the entire way was the noise Fiore's hands made as he rubbed the sides of his pant legs.

  "Are you nervous or somethin'?" I questioned.

  Giving me a dirty look, he answered, "I was told to keep my distance from you."

  "I wasn't aware you needed to be told that. Last I remember, you didn't think highly of me," I reminded.

  Drawing a quick breath in from his nose, Fiore informed, "My brother is not the only one that gets turned on seeing a woman kick some ass in her underwear," as he adjusted in the seat next to me.

  Nodding, I shut the memory out, saying, "I think dinner is a bad idea."

  "Suit yourself," he griped, turning to look out of the passenger window.

  Scowling, I decided it was time to settle up.

  Clenching my teeth, I squeezed my eyes closed and took a deep breath.

  "Fiore," I stated.

  Turning back, he stared at me.

  Holding out my hand, I ordered, "Give me your hand."

  It took a minute before he slid his hand against my palm.

  Covering the top of his hand with my other hand, I could feel tears stinging my eyes as I said, "Thank you."

  We both sat silent for a moment before I could feel his fingers start to wiggle in my hands as his palm started to sweat.

  "I would not have gone if it weren't for Ignacio," he admitted.

  I replied, "I know," before he shared, "He would have gone without me though."

  "I know that too," I assured.

  Glancing at my wedding ring, Fiore slid his hand from between mine.

  "My brother never read your file. But I did," he said.

  Scowling at him, I nodded.

  "In hindsight, it painted and unclear picture of who you are," he stated.

  Giving him a soft smile, I shared, "That's why I burned it."

  "Would you like directions to my house?" he asked.

  Smiling, I nodded before grasping the steering wheel.

  Pulling up to a nice house in a gated community, I wondered if Ignacio still lived in their old home. The one they grew up in or if he had moved also. Fiore stepped out of my car before making his way to my driver's side window.

  "I hold Rennillia Marie Cantinelli in the highest regard. You have my respect."

  I was confused as to why he not only used my full name but my maiden name at that. As he gave me a quick nod and stepped away, I assumed it was his way of saying 'you're welcome'.

  ~

  It was well after two o'clock in the afternoon when I decided to get out of bed. It wasn't a nightmare that kept waking me up. I kept dreaming that I was sleeping next to Jackson. When I would reach out and wake to find his side of the bed empty, I would feel sad.

  Maybe it was knowing I had nowhere to be and absolutely nothing to do. I was exhausted when I returned home after dropping Fiore off at his house. I had taken a long bath and it was truly the best bath of my entire life.

  I needed to start looking for another job. I would be okay for a month or two maybe three if I was really carful. Still, I could have easily crawled back into bed and slept for the rest of the day.

  After showering, brushing my teeth and getting dressed, I realized there wasn't much else for me to do. I forgot about picking up my stuff from JPT like I said I would and I decided to put it off another day. Charlotte was my priority for the day. My own personal problems were interfering with visits with her.

  ~

  The moment I arrived, Amila was leaving the house, to pick up the rest of their kids from school. She told me that Charlotte was upstairs in her room.

  Upstairs, I smiled to myself. Knocking on the door to Charlotte's bedroom, it was humorous to me that the room they gave her was once mine.

  The door swung open as Charlotte gave me a dirty look and gripped, "Oh, it's you."

  Watching her turn and practically throw herself onto her bed, I stated, "Well, hello to you too."

  "What? Your little princess stop talking to you again?" she questioned.

  Raising my eyebrows, I snapped, "Excuse me?"

  With a huff, Charlotte rolled her eyes and turned her back on me.

  It wasn't the first time Charlotte's tone leaned toward the snotty side, however, I was taken aback by her attitude. I thought we had made progress with each other along with our individual triumphs.

  While thinking of something to say to her, I glanced around her room. An entire wall was devoted to bottle caps. As I took a closer look, I noticed they weren't just random caps stuck to the wall. Each bottle cap was placed with care creating an overall picture that spelled out Charlotte amongst the varying colors of the caps.

  "Wow, did you do that?" I asked.

  Charlotte sat up and glared at me before glancing at her bottle cap wall and saying, "Yea."

  "That's amazing," I assured.

  With a slight smirk she ignored my compliment, asking, "Why are you here?"

  Taking my focus off of her wall, I replied, "You were supposed to make a list."

  "Oh yea? You were supposed to be here yesterday," she spouted back at me.

  Nodding, I knew I was responsible for her attitude.

  Thinking of ways to excuse myself for neglecting her, I groaned to myself and decided to apologize.

  "Charlotte, I'm sorry. I would never hurt your feelings on purpose," I shared.

  Hopping off her bed, she gave me a 'whatever' look as she griped, "Is that what you came here to say?"

  Feeling my patience being tested, I gritted my teeth and snapped, "I came here because you and I made an agreement to work together on your steps."

  "Oh, we're still doing that?" she snapped back at me.

  "What is your problem?" I questioned.

  Rolling her eyes at me, she started to turn her back on me again.

  Refusing to play this game with her, I grabbed her arm and turned her back to face me as I said, "Look, I know you're seventeen but I'm not. I don't have time to play little teenager games with you. I have problems too and a life that is on the verge of collapsing on itself. So if you're serious about helping yourself then you need to be the big girl you keep pretending to be and start acting a little more grown up."

  In an instant Charlotte's eyes filled with tears.

  Searching her eyes, I couldn't believe she was starting to cry.

  "What's going on?"

  Charlotte stared at me for a moment before complaining, "You forgave her. Just like that. She turned her back on you and you..."

&nb
sp; Stopping her, I questioned, "Are you talking about Sophia?" As Charlotte nodded, I said, "Of course I did. She's my daughter."

  As if the concept was foreign to her Charlotte replied, "She doesn't deserve for you to forgive her."

  "Now Charlotte," I started before she cut me off, "She doesn't appreciate someone like you. I've heard Emerson and Amila talk. You gave her everything and the second her life was less than perfect, she blamed it all on you... I would give anything to have you as my mother."

  Tears filled my eyes as I assured, "You only feel that way because I'm not."

  Shaking her head, Charlotte looked at the floor.

  At first, I didn't know what else to say. Then, the words came as if I had been waiting my whole life for this moment to say them.

  "I don't know what it's like to have a mother that loves me either. I used to wish that my mother loved me. People with loving mothers never know how lucky they truly are because it's something they've always had. Mothers are supposed love their children, it's a given. I don't really know why mine didn't feel that way about me and I have no idea why yours wouldn't. I have had people in my life though, that loved me without having to. It's a greater gift to have someone love you, when there isn't a reason for them to."

  Scowling at me, Charlotte asked, "Like Amila?"

  Nodding, I replied, "Yes. And me too."

  Tears spilled from her eyes and down her cheeks as Charlotte hugged me.

  Holding her tight, I allowed my own tears to fall realizing I loved Charlotte as if she was my own. No more or less than my own daughter, I loved her.

  Slowly pulling away, I wiped my eyes and swore to her, "No matter what, you can come to me. I will always be here for you."

  Sniffling, Charlotte nodded.

  A mixture of sadness and fear clouded her expression as she stepped back and sat down on her bed.

  Looking up at me, Charlotte stated, "I want to tell you."

  "Tell me what?" I questioned, starting to take a step towards her.

  "Stay there," she requested.

  Charlotte placed her hands on her knees and closed her eyes before sharing with me the worst moment of her life.

  Biting the corner of my tongue, in order to keep my composer in front of her, I knew all too well it wasn't reliving the moment that hurt. It was the pity in someone's eyes that made you want to curl up and die.