Authors: Janet Nissenson
Shattered: (33 page)
Lauren glared down at her. “I should do exactly that, you know. It’s what you deserve after blowing me off so many times over the past year so you’d be available to go fuck that asshole whenever he snapped his fingers. But from what I could interpret from your message, I’m guessing he’s not in the picture any longer?”
As Angela began to sob loudly and uncontrollably, Lauren cursed – first in English, then French, and finally, for good measure, in Spanish. And even though she’d always been a firm believer in tough love, she found herself comforting her best friend as Angela cried her heart out over the louse who’d broken that same organ into a million tiny pieces.
Between crying jags, Angela managed to stutter out what had happened with the cold-hearted bastard whom she’d devoted the better part of a year to. Maddeningly, she still refused to reveal his name or any other details, and Lauren forced herself to stay calm and not scream at her friend to stop being such an idiot over a guy who’d treated her like scum on the bottom of his shoe. She was seldom tactful, and had spoken what was on her mind since she’d been a small child, but for once she held her tongue, knowing that her usual candor would only make Angela cry harder.
Then, when she couldn’t handle the incessant weeping – or the rank body odor – a minute longer, she half-pushed, half-dragged Angela into the bathroom, shoved a towel and a robe into her hands, and forced her to take a long, hot shower. Hot evidently being the operative word, since it took mere minutes for the tiny room to fill up with steam.
Lauren didn’t waste any time after that, carrying out bags of trash and recycling to dump down the chute in the hallway. By then she was wiping sweat off her brow and opened up the single window in the apartment to get some fresh air. She frowned to notice the heat had been cranked up to eighty, and quickly dialed it down to a reasonable temperature. As she heard the water shut off in the bathroom, she stripped the sheets from the bed and pulled open the drawer built into the bed frame to get clean ones out.
She froze when she saw was else was stored in the drawer next to the spare set of sheets. “Holy shit!” she exclaimed, shaking her head in disbelief as she spied several sets of silken cords, a variety of scarves, and even a couple of blindfolds. There were other items, too, some of which she recognized and others she wasn’t sure she’d ever want to become acquainted with.
“What are you doing?” asked Angela in alarm.
She emerged from the bathroom clad in a robe and a frayed pair of slippers, her hair wrapped up in a towel. She hurried over to the bed and pulled the clean sheets out of the drawer before shutting it firmly. But Lauren knew what she’d seen and wasn’t about to ignore it.
“So in addition to letting him control every second of your life, you also let this prick tie you up?” she asked incredulously. “What the fuck, Angie? Did you lose your mind along with your free will?”
Angela glared at her darkly. “It’s not what you think. He never hurt me or did anything I didn’t consent to.”
Lauren shook her head. “Jesus, this is like a David Lynch movie or something – all this dark, twisty, bizarre stuff. And getting weirder by the minute.” She pointed a finger at Angela. “The one thing you’d better
not
tell me is that you ever let this bastard hit you. Am I going to find any other kinky shit lying around if I keep poking – you know, like whips and chains?”
not
tell me is that you ever let this bastard hit you. Am I going to find any other kinky shit lying around if I keep poking – you know, like whips and chains?”
Angela shook her head vehemently. “No, nothing like that. He – he wasn’t into any of that stuff. You know, like Erika’s parents used to keep in that strange dungeon room. And he never hit me, not even close.”
“But he did hurt you,” Lauren murmured quietly. “Maybe not physically but in a whole lot of other ways. At least if the number of empty booze bottles I just threw away is any indication. When did the sonofabitch break things off anyway?”
Tears welled up in Angela’s bloodshot eyes again. “About a month ago,” she whispered. “But I kept hoping he’d change his mind, that he’d call me and say it was all a mistake.”
Lauren stared at her, aghast. “You’ve been like this for a month?”
Angela shrugged. “Not – quite this bad. I mean, not -”
“Not on a bender and passed out drunk?” finished Lauren. “When did that start and why?”
The tears started to stream down Angela’s gaunt cheekbones, and for the first time Lauren noticed how much weight her friend had lost since the last time they’d seen each other. Admittedly, Angie had packed on a much needed ten pounds or so and had looked terrific, but Lauren was guessing she’d lost at least that much now and maybe more.
“Thursday,” whispered Angela brokenly. “Two – two days ago I – I saw him with someone else. He was meeting her for lunch and when I saw him kiss her, that’s when -”
“When you really lost it.” Lauren shook her head. “I’m sorry, honey, sorry that you had to see that. Do you think he intended for you to see him?”
“N-nno.” Angela sank down onto the bed, heedless of the fact that there weren’t any sheets on it. “He didn’t know I saw him. I’d, uh, been hoping to run into him so I was hanging out at a coffee shop near his office when he walked out of the building.”
“Christ.” Lauren ran a hand over her face, suddenly feeling in dire need of more coffee. Or some tequila. “So you were basically stalking this guy is what you’re saying.”
The towel wrapped around Angela’s head began to slip off. “I guess a little,” she admitted in a small voice. “I just wanted to see him, that’s all. I don’t think I would have had the nerve to actually go up to him. But I guess this proves you should be careful what you wish for, doesn’t it?”
Lauren sat down on the bed next to her, wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulders. “More often than not, yes. So you saw him with his new bimbo and went off the deep end. Does that about cover it?”
Angela’s long, wet hair fell about her face as she gave a little nod. “More or less. That’s when I knew – when I realized it’s over. Really and truly over. He’s not coming back to me and I have no idea how to go on from here.”
She curled herself up into a fetal position as she began sobbing again, and Lauren rolled her eyes heavenward.
“Oh, this is
so
not how I wanted to spend my down time,” she grumbled as she went in search of coffee making supplies. “I should have waited until I was home before checking my messages. Sometimes I think I should just stamp a big ole S on my forehead for Sucker.”
so
not how I wanted to spend my down time,” she grumbled as she went in search of coffee making supplies. “I should have waited until I was home before checking my messages. Sometimes I think I should just stamp a big ole S on my forehead for Sucker.”
She unearthed some crumpled paper filters and found a package of ground coffee in the fridge. The pot had almost finished brewing when Angela dashed into the bathroom, a hand over her mouth, and a decidedly green cast to her features.
“Aw, fuck,” groaned Lauren. “And I really,
really
didn’t figure on holding anyone’s head over the toilet this weekend. Someone in this apartment is going to owe me big time.”
really
didn’t figure on holding anyone’s head over the toilet this weekend. Someone in this apartment is going to owe me big time.”
***
Lauren ended up staying for four days, bossing Angela around the entire time and refusing to let her feel sorry for herself. Between the two of them order was restored to the apartment, starting with the discarded sacks of clothing. They went through them again, pulling out suits and other items that Nick had hated but that were perfectly all right for the office. This time Lauren carted the actual giveaways directly to Goodwill, not allowing Angela the opportunity to re-stash the bags in the basement. At some point Lauren had rummaged through the extensive wardrobe Nick had bought, emitting a low whistle when she’d realized just how much there really was. She’d offered to get rid of the whole lot, but Angela had stubbornly refused to let go of anything just yet, even though all of it was at least a size too big after her sudden weight loss.
“I’ll, um, go through everything soon,” she’d promised. “When I’m in a better frame of mind to deal with it.”
Lauren had scoffed. “Oh, bullshit. You’ll hang on to every single thing. Just like you sleep with that stupid T-shirt of his like it’s a damned security blanket or something. I’d be burning it in effigy if it was up to me. After I’d sliced a couple of dozen holes in it first.”
“Don’t,” Angela had warned. “I know it’s unhealthy but I’m not ready yet.”
In the time she’d hung around, Lauren had forced Angela to eat, shower, go for long walks, and go out to the movies. By the time Lauren headed home to Big Sur, Angela felt marginally calmer and more in control, even though she was always freezing now and never felt hunger pangs. Lauren had made her promise to keep in close touch, vowing to return and move in if she didn’t hear from her at least three times a week.
“I don’t care if it’s a phone call or a text or an email,” Lauren had stated. “No matter where I happen to be, I always have access to my messages. So don’t make me try and track you down while I’m in Borneo or Kenya because my office manager gets pissy if I rack up too many roaming charges.”
“Okay, I promise.” Angela had given her a fierce good-by hug. “And – thanks. For everything. I’d probably be sleeping in a pool of my own vomit right about now if you hadn’t badgered Mr. Musante to let you in.”
Lauren had wrinkled her nose at the mental image. “Eww. Really gross visual there, Angie. But I’m glad I was here, glad you drunk dialed me when you did. And I’m always here, understand? Even if I’m half a world away I’ll always be there for you. You might have forgotten that fact over the past year but it was always true.”
Angela had felt tears begin to well up in her eyes until Lauren had given a firm shake of her head.
“Uh, uh. No way are you going to cry again. I swear I don’t understand why you aren’t completely dehydrated by now considering how much you’ve cried over the past four days. So stop it,” she’d ordered sternly. “Nobody is worth that much grief.
Nobody
.”
Nobody
.”
And as the next couple of weeks passed, Angela tried – really tried – to remind herself of that fact. She attempted to throw herself back into her job, even going so far as to make cold calls to a list of prospective clients.
She started calling her parents again on the weekends, and was surprised when Rita scolded her for making them worry when they hadn’t heard from her for over a month. And when she broke down crying over the phone, her mother had been uncharacteristically sympathetic.
“It’s that man you were seeing, isn’t it?” she’d asked baldly. But there had been no scorn or condemnation in her voice for once. “What’s the matter? He didn’t hit you or anything, did he?”
Through her tears, Angela had wondered wildly why everyone seemed to think Nick had been physically abusive to her.
“No, Mom,” she’d sniffled. “He would never do that. And we’re not seeing each other anymore. It’s been over for more than a month.”
“Good.” Rita’s voice had been firm, non-nonsense. “He wasn’t good for you, Angela, wasn’t the right man. What kind of man doesn’t want to meet a girl’s family, lets her go to her cousin’s wedding all alone? I hope you got rid of those things he bought you or gave them back to him. And I hope you have enough sense not to take him back if he calls you again.”
“He won’t be calling again, Mom,” she’d murmured brokenly.
It was as though saying those words out loud to her mother had made her realize once and for all just how true they were. Nick had quickly and thoroughly locked her out of his life, and had very obviously forgotten all about her with the same sort of arrogant ease that he sailed through life with.
She’d had another good, long cry after that conversation with her mother, and then, despite her half-hearted vows to Lauren, had made a trip to the liquor store. But she did force herself to keep the drinking under control, limiting herself to just enough shots to dull the pain and enable her to fall asleep.
She couldn’t, however, drink at work and thereby block out the hurt and misery she felt each time she overheard the renewed gossip about Nick. During the long months they’d been together, the gossip mill had pretty much ground to a halt, the overall conjecture having been that Nick finally had a steady girlfriend, though her identity had always remained a mystery. But once it had passed the four or five month mark in their relationship, any talk about Nick and his unknown amour had pretty much dried up.
Until now, that is. Apparently he was back on the market in a big way, if the gossip could all be believed, and Angela felt like another piece of her heart was being crushed each time someone shared a new tidbit of information about him.
“There was a picture of him in the newspaper the other day at some charity auction, and he had this gorgeous blonde with him. I think the paper said she was a model or an actress.”
“Manning is definitely back to his old ways from the sound of it. He was seen with three different women in one week. And I’m guessing each one was hotter than the last.”
“I saw him at that cocktail party at the Four Seasons – you know, the one to celebrate the engagement of two of his staff members. He had a redhead with him and it sure looked to me like they couldn’t wait to go have a private party of their own.”
Each time she was forced to hear about yet another new woman Nick had been seen out with, the pain was more than she could handle. She took to keeping her office door closed, to shunning contact with the worst of the gossips, and to leaving the room the moment she heard his name mentioned.
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