Starting From Broken

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Starting From Broken Page 9

by F. T. Zele

I can hardly see the good on an average day, but days like this, I can’t seem to see anything clearly anymore.

  We change the subject and finish our lunch since there really isn’t anything else to say. I need to stay away from Braxton, plain and simple. Anything I thought was there obviously wasn’t.

  “All right, well, I’m gonna get going. Thanks for coming and being such a great friend. I owe you one.” I reach out, grabbing her hand and giving it a squeeze.

  “You never need to thank me. I’m always here for you.”

  After paying the bill and heading back to my office, I get into my car and head home for a much-needed relaxing bath to forget this minor bump in the road.

  Things have been crazy, to say the least. I have been going over proposals for the new place as well as dealing with the aftermath of the situation at Jade, trying hard to keep my bar a high-class place and not have it talked about as if it’s some dive bar where this kind of thing happens. Then, add Liz to the mix, and my head has been fucked.

  I fight to stay focused on the reason behind my determination of making everything I do become a success. I need to make money and take care of my mom. I’m all she has and will ever have.

  When loud pounding at my door sounds, I jump up angrily, hoping whoever it is has a damn good reason for disturbing me. I make my way to the door, but before I get there, it violently swings open and in walks Sophie. I don’t know who this chick thinks she is, but by the look on her face, she means business, and it can only be for one reason.

  “Who the fuck do you think you are?” she fumes. Her fists are clenched at her sides, and I don’t know whether to laugh it off or kick her the hell out of my office.

  “Who I am? I was actually thinking the same thing when you came blasting through my office like you own the goddamn place!” She’s got a temper, and I can see why Tyler is so into her, but this is uncalled for.

  “You know, I’m not one who likes to fight other people’s battles, but when it comes to Liz, it becomes my business. Do you have anything to say for yourself?” She must really love her friend. She doesn’t give up her stance and seems to be getting angrier by the second.

  “It’s none of your business, so take this shit somewhere else. Don’t think you can come into my office and throw your mother hen bullshit at me. Liz is a grown woman and can handle herself. Maybe you’re the reason she doesn’t have a clue what she wants ’cause you feel you have to handle everything for her?” She is really starting to irritate me, as my own anger builds.

  “She’s my business since I’m the only person she has left. You have no clue what she has been through. Are you this much of a piece of shit to everyone, or is it just her? What the hell did she ever do to you?”

  “She’s a distraction, and I don’t need that right now. Just as much as I don’t need you barging in here like I owe you or her something. So, you might as well save your breath.”

  “You need to apologize to her. Even if you don’t want to see her anymore, at least fucking apologize. She’s beating herself up over this. I told her you aren’t worth being upset over. I won’t let you be the reason I lose her for good next time.”

  “What do you mean ‘lose her for good’?” I’m confused, but something about that last statement sticks out.

  “I’ve already said too much. She would kill me if she knew I came here. I wish I could see all the great stuff about you that Tyler talks about, but honestly, I see nothing. I don’t care what you have to do. Just make it right and move on.”

  “Since when did having sex with someone become a crime? People fuck all the time. We had some fun, and that’s all. Get over it. Why are you making this into some huge thing?” This seems to infuriate her. I can see it in her stance, like what I just said was the worst thing for her to hear. I watch her walk up to me.

  “Why? Because you know it wasn’t just sex. I saw the way you looked at her when she was here, the way she tried to hide that she kept coming here hoping to see you. I’m not fucking stupid, so please don’t talk to me like I am.”

  By the last sentence she’s in my face, challenging me. I stay put, refusing to back down. If I want to be semi-convincible, I can’t break my position. No one can know this is anything more than what I’m usually willing to give. I can’t give Liz more, and it tears my black, cold heart right out of my chest.

  I want to tell Sophie, anybody, how much I need Liz, how much I want to treat her the way she deserves, not how her asshole ex-husband treated her. Knowing how fragile she is and what I’ve seen, I will only break her more. I won’t do that. I won’t let my own fucked-up issues be the reason she gets hurt any more.

  Even without knowing her better, I know she doesn’t deserve the shit I would bring her. This is why for the first time in my life, I choose to do the right thing by her and walk away. Even if it means I’ll suffer the rest of my life never getting what I don’t deserve, I can live with that, as long as she finds someone who pulls her out of the dark hole she resides in.

  “Look, Sophie, you’re a great friend, and I’m glad she has you, but it’s just not meant to be. I’m not what she needs, and you know that. I’ll never deserve a girl like that. After the other night, I don’t think she would ever forgive me anyway.” I pause. “Just tell me one thing?” I carefully think before I ask Sophie the one thing that has been causing me sleepless nights since I last saw Liz.

  “What?” she answers.

  “Is her ex-husband’s name Jacob” I’ve gone too far, but I need to know. By the look on Sophie’s face, I’m sure I’ve crossed the line, but I don’t care.

  “If you want to know, then maybe you should apologize to her and ask. That’s Liz’s story to tell, not mine. She’s one of the strongest people I know, and she doesn’t even realize it.”

  I watch Sophie soften as she talks about Liz, and I get where she’s coming from because I would do anything for Tyler.

  “Let me tell you one thing about Liz. She isn’t one you . . . hit it and quit it. I know, stupid saying . . . All I mean is, she isn’t some bar rat looking to get laid like ninety-nine percent of the women in here, got it?”

  Pointing her finger into my chest, she makes sure she is heard. I hear her; I’m just not quite sure I can honor her request at this time. The deed is done, and now I’m left here with all these thoughts running through my head. This conversation has only made me think about Liz more, when all I am trying to do is forget about her.

  “Oh, and you can call her and apologize, right?”

  I can tell by her tone that wasn’t a question but a fact. I do owe Liz an explanation for bailing. Shit.

  “All right, I get what you’re saying. It was nice talking to you, but I’ve got to get back to work here. Oh, and you better be good to Tyler, or I might just barge into your office sometime,” I say with a wink, walking over to the door and holding it, signaling this little chat is over. “Thanks for stopping by, Sophie.”

  “Do the right thing, Braxton.”

  Once she’s gone, and I mean gone, because I watched the cameras and made sure she drove out of here so I wouldn’t have to deal with her anymore, I pick up my phone and flip it over in my hands a couple of times, deciding how to make things right.

  Today has been one of the most unusual days I have had in a long time. I walked into my office and was shocked to see a beautiful flower arrangement. Not too big, but cute springtime flowers spilling out of a smaller vase that looks like it’s barely sitting on my desk. The aroma fills my nose, and as I get closer, I notice there is no card accompanying them. Only one person could have sent these, but really, after everything I don’t see Braxton making any effort contacting me.

  Part of me wants to throw them away and forget about him and any chance he might actually still think about me. I’m interrupted by a knock at my door. As I look up, I see Jen walking into my office. I hope she has my coffee because it looks like I’m going to need it.

  “Someone must really be sorry,” she says with a
dreamy tone in her voice as she stares at the flowers.

  “Yeah, well, they are nice, but if he thinks flowers will make everything better, he’s wrong. There isn’t a card? Just flowers?” I say, confused.

  “Um . . . just flowers,” she answers before leaving.

  Braxton has another thing coming if he thinks I’m going to call him and thank him for these. It’s going to take a lot more than flowers to make things right. I need to understand why he thought it would be okay to treat me like some whore, clearly when I told him he was looking at the wrong person for that.

  Once lunchtime comes, I take a break for the day to make some sense out of this. Still not one single communication from him. Making my way out of the office, I pass Jen. “Going out for lunch. I’ll be back in a bit.”

  “All right, have fun.” The smirk on her face tells me she’s up to something, but then I remember she doesn’t know Braxton, so I shake it off. My paranoia has always had a way of getting the better of me.

  Walking out to the parking garage, I’m stopped dead in my tracks when I see Braxton leaning against my car. For a fraction of a second, I feel relief that I’ve been craving since he left, but that feeling is instantly replaced with resentment that he would come to my work, thinking flowers would make everything better.

  “I was starting to think you would never leave for lunch,” he says, looking nervous, as he should be.

  “Well, you’re lucky I couldn’t deal with the aroma of flowers in my office and needed a break.”

  “Yeah, lucky for me.”

  “So, is there a point to this, or did you want to humiliate me some more?” I ask, not making a move to get closer, trying to stay far away and hoping not to get caught up in his spell. I don’t look him in the eye, because once I do, all rational thoughts are lost. It’s a shame he’s such an ass.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t handle the other night well, and I had to get away. Truth is, I couldn’t handle the feelings you brought out in me.”

  “You know, you always talk about me running from my problems, and there you went, running the second things got a little too much for you to handle. Why didn’t you just tell me? Instead, you treated me like a piece of trash. I can’t handle that.”

  “Liz, there’s so much about me you don’t know. Things you won’t like. I don’t want to see the disappointment you’ll experience when you find out. I told you; I’m an asshole.”

  “Just because you tell me that, you think it’s okay to act like one? You know nothing about me, and please spare me with your I don’t want to hurt you talk. I want to know what had you running, and don’t lie to me,” I say, hands on my hips.

  “Really? Right here, you want to talk this out? Can’t we go somewhere else?”

  “Yeah, right here. I’m on my lunch break. I don’t have time to go somewhere, and I don’t particularly want to go anywhere with you right now.”

  “Look, I didn’t want it to be like that. I got wrapped up in these feelings . . . feelings I’ve never had with anybody. I felt horrible that you trusted me enough to get that close to me.”

  “You aren’t telling me everything.”

  “When I went to the bathroom, I found a note wadded up inside the trash can. I should have never read it. It was from your ex-husband to someone named Sasha. When I read it, I saw fucking red. I felt guilty and didn’t want to hurt you like he did, but I guess I did. I’m sorry. Between the incident at Jade and you, that whole night was a disaster. If I could take it back, I would, but I can’t.”

  “You went through my trash can?”

  “No, I didn’t dig through it looking for something. The note was just there.”

  “Well, something happened before that, while we were . . . You know. You wouldn’t even look at me. How do you think that made me feel? It would have been easier if you had thrown a paper bag over my head. It would have stung a lot less,” I say, as I relive that night, feeling stupid and naïve.

  “I promise I won’t ever make you feel like that again.”

  “You’re damn right you won’t because you won’t have the opportunity. I’m seriously tapped out, Braxton. I’ve had enough bullshit to last me three lifetimes, and I don’t need this.” I take a breath and strand straight, getting ready to tell him this last part. As much as it will kill me, because I really do want to get to know him, I can’t. “Thank you for the flowers. They’re gorgeous, but you need to leave me alone now. You got what you wanted, so there isn’t anything to work out,” I say as I walk over to my car and hit the unlock button on my remote. “Excuse me. I have to go.”

  “Liz.” Grabbing me lightly at my shoulders, he holds me in place. “We can start from scratch. Please, let’s just talk and get to know each other. I won’t let it happen again.” He stares me in the eyes, and I deflect the gaze because I know there is something hypnotic about it, and I will end up saying yes.

  “Right now you need to go. I can’t think when you’re close to me, and I need to think, okay?”

  “If that’s what you want, but don’t think you won’t be seeing me again. I don’t want to be an asshole anymore, well, at least not to you. I want to show you something when you’re ready. I’ll be waiting.”

  He moves away from my car door, and I get in, thanking God I was strong enough to stand my ground. I give him a sad smile and drive off, but I only get to the next level of the garage before the setback starts. After parking in an empty spot, I sit since there’s no point in getting lunch now that my appetite has been lost. When I can’t stand it anymore, I drive back to my spot, park, and walk to my office, making a point not to think about all this crap by concentrating on work. I won’t let it get in my way. I have had enough wallowing and pity parties.

  I’ve come to the conclusion that, hey, I’m only twenty-nine years old. My life isn’t over. I still have so much I want to do. It’s time to move forward and start being an adult again. Handling my shit is my main priority.

  Once my day ends at the office, I go home to think long and hard if letting Braxton into my life is an option I can entertain. I do like him and agree I don’t know much about him. Maybe if I give him a chance to show me this non-asshole side he claims to want to have, we can at least get to a point where we can be friends. I guess I have been a little too hard on him, and I should be happy he wants to be around me after everything that has happened. Being firm is going to be hard, but knowing I’m worth more than what he has shown is my determination.

  Later in the evening, feeling stressed, I decide on picking up something to eat rather than cooking. I call in my order to the local deli and head out to grab it. When I arrive, I walk inside and pick up my food. As I make my way out of the place, a familiar voice catches my attention. Not wanting to look, I attempt to walk away, but I stupidly look anyway, because I love to torture myself.

  I see Braxton with some girl sitting at a table eating, and I feel once again like I’m being played. Everything he just said to me earlier in the day was a lie. Clearly, once I don’t give him the answers he wants, he finds someone who is willing to do whatever to be around him.

  It fucking kills me.

  Before I can think on it, I get out of there, not wanting him to see me. I need to hide the lone tear that falls down my cheek as all my insecurities start rushing toward the surface. I wonder when I’ll ever stop feeling replaceable and unworthy of being truly loved, like fairy-tale love, the kind of love that mothers tell their daughters about. I may have never had a mother around to tell me those stories, but I read about them every time I could get my hands on a book while being moved from home to home, searching for my forever place.

  A couple of foggy days pass, and I am still unable to push aside the thoughts of Braxton. I wonder what he’s doing and if everything he told me is relevant. I haven’t given him any indication that we could move past that night, and it has taken every ounce of willpower in me not to pick up the phone and yield to him and his charm. He doesn’t know anything about my past, he c
ould never guess what I’ve been through, and just the thought of filling him in on the details makes my stomach turn. I don’t want him to think of me as a frail object, always having to watch what he says because he’s afraid it will throw me over the edge.

  As I sit here with my phone in my hand, I try hard to stop myself from reaching out, but it gets the better of me. I shoot him a text, intrigued at what he wants to show me since every time I’ve been out with him has been interesting. He loves to show me personal things and places he doesn’t dare take anybody else.

  Me: What did you want to show me?

  Almost immediately, I get a response.

  Braxton: You know I won’t tell you. I will only show you when you’re ready.

  Me: Okay, maybe soon.

  Braxton: I’m getting to you. What is it? My undeniable charm?

  Me: You’re pushing it.

  Braxton: Maybe, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Me: Good night!

  Braxton: Night

  I curse the smile that creeps upon my face. I want to hate him so bad and be able to resist his stupid charm. Sad thing is, I’m in a happier place when I talk to him. There’s something about him that makes my heart race like it used to. That free-falling feeling I have in my stomach should send a warning, but I don’t see it that way. I just want to keep this feeling for as long as I can.

  I’m making progress with Liz and myself by showing her the person I reserve only for the one that knows me. I might be thinking way too much into this, but telling her about my past is something that terrifies me.

  The only way I can honestly explain to Liz the way I work is by bringing her to meet my mom. I have never brought anybody home to meet her. Why get her hopes up? I am who I am, but something is different with Liz. She actually tries to avoid me. I know I will never get another chance with her if I can’t open up the way I have been trying to make her do.

 

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