What's Left of Me (Finally Unbroken Book 2) (11 page)

BOOK: What's Left of Me (Finally Unbroken Book 2)
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Chapter Eighteen

 

“It’s been too long.” My throat constricts as I kneel on the damp ground. “I should have come, sat, and spoken to you. There are things I’m sure, even with your silence, you would have told me.” Stretching my neck, I wait for the tingling in my hands to stop. I’m not sure if it’s from the cold, or my nerves.

I don’t know why I’m nervous.

No. That’s a lie.

I know why I’m nervous.

I haven’t come here since the funeral.

Even though she can’t answer me, I know that in spirit she’s kicking me repeatedly in the balls. “I haven’t been avoiding you. I just…” Pulling my hand down my face, I sigh and watch a puff of white air leave my lips. “Amanda, I spiraled so out of control. I’m pretty sure you would have been ashamed.”

Standing up, I pace back and forth, looking at the view of the town I grew up in, from this hill where her grave resides. “It took me so long, so damn long, to get over you, to get over myself. I was completely self-involved. My own pity swallowed me whole for a while.” Easing back down on my haunches, I wipe away the leaves that have gathered. I know that Anabel comes here every few months, it’s a flight away now she’s in New York like me, but Amanda’s dad lives in Ireland now. So he only comes back here to celebrate her birthday.

“I made good on my promise,” I tell her. “Just after you left us, I checked into him. Pierre. His businesses? The bars he owned, I ripped them all apart. I dismantled his company. Bought it out from under him, called in some favors and spoke directly to the board members.” Fidgeting I feel a chill running up my spine, which I want to shake off, but can’t because the weather is cutting. “I broke him down. Seems like that company meant everything to him.”

I slam my fist on the grave, sudden rage like lava inside me. My muscles clench and unclench repeatedly. “You didn’t tell me that you gave him his start, loaning him money because you were married. Money that he never gave you back.” Shaking my head I can feel the snake of anger in my stomach uncoiling. “He gave you nothing in the divorce.
Nothing.
I got my guy to look into it. That fucker was going to fight you, wasn’t he? He was going to fight his wife when she had cancer. All because he was too chicken shit to deal with it. That low life bastard was going to drag you through court. So you let him have it all.”

Raising my coiled body up I take a step away, kicking my foot out and catching a twig, sending it flying through the air. “You wouldn’t have wanted his money anyway, I know that. Still, it was a dick thing to do. It just shows what kind of a man he is… which is no man at all.” A humorless laugh leaves my mouth as I bite down with irritation. “He lives with his mom now. Works in the local bar. It’s the life he deserves. I wanted to do more, but Danny stopped me.” I move to sit on the bench, which I paid to have positioned on this path next to her grave. So people could sit and rest. Contemplate. Remember.

I stare at the inscription.

 

Amanda. Forever my star. Never forgotten. Eternally loved.

 

“I’m in love,” I say softly, standing back up, unable to stay still. I move to the end of her grave and stare at the roses I placed there.

Amanda loved roses.

Laurie likes tulips.

I don’t know why the thought is even in my head, but the moment it’s there I feel my automatic smile and my heart picks up speed. Kneeling down again, I lean forward. “I’ve been with her… Laurie, for a little over six months now. I’m going to ask her to marry me. Not today, maybe not in the next few months. But Amanda, she’s it for me.”

Clenching my teeth, my stomach tightens. “Danny and Anabel love her. They saw it way before I did, when I was in self-destruct mode and she tried to help me. I know you’d be happy for me, too. You told me to move on. I didn’t think I ever would. I knew, though when my head was out of my ass and the alcohol had left my system, the moment I walked out of that rehab center, I just knew I had to go back to her self-help group. It wasn’t the group, though.”

A wash of emotion passes through my chest, whizzing through my body like a constant hum. “That first meeting, I watched her, before I even really spoke to her. Feelings that I didn’t expect to have, and didn’t know what to do with, assaulted me from the second I saw her face. When her perfume wrapped around me.”

I stop talking as some people walk along the path. We smile and nod politely. Even though this is a smallish town, and people you don’t even know often pause to talk, me kneeling on the muddy grass in front of a gravestone gives the ‘
please leave me alone’
vibe. So they don’t stop.

“I freaked out, Amanda. I didn’t know what to do with the feelings. Thought I was betraying you. I ended up at the first bar I came across. I almost drank.
Almost.
” I rub down my throat as the burn I always have when I think about drinking courses down into my lungs. “She’s my reason. She doesn’t make me better, she just gives me a reason to crave a better life for myself.”

Edging back to the bench and seating myself there, I stare at the darkening sky. I don’t move. The wind whips around my legs and after a while, my cheeks go numb. The bench is my home for the next hour or so as the sun sets and the stars come out. When they do, I stand and stare up into the sky, the stars blur as my eyes moisten.

“I’m not coming back, sweetheart. I know you’d understand. I had to come, to tell you about her. My future is with Laurie. You’ll never be forgotten, Amanda. I’ll always feel blessed for the time we had. You made me so happy, so damn happy.” I feel the trail of warm water hitting my frozen cheeks as my tears descend at the same time as I do, my butt hits the cold bench once again. “I wanted to come and say goodbye. I loved you, Amanda… God, did I love you. But I can’t think about the what ifs and what could have been. It’s done. Over. You have a legacy, you gave me everything I needed to show me that I was capable of loving someone. To show me I could be happy being with just one woman. Now I know, not only do those things still stand, but I’m happy to give someone my promise of forever, knowing, hoping, this time, it really is forever.” My teeth chatter as a whooshing sound pulses in my ears. “I’ll always love you, Amanda, but I’m in love with Laurie. You were my first, she’s my forever. Goodbye, my star.”

Taking one last look at the night sky then back down to the gravestone, I step away from my past and stride toward my future.

Chapter Nineteen

 

This time of the year is always hard. It’s been six years tomorrow since the crash. You’d think I would have overcome the emotion that completely encompasses me every year, taking over both body and mind. Ruben is at work. He doesn’t know what tomorrow is, or that three days after I’ll be just as self-destructive as he used to be. I’m not sure why I didn’t tell him. Although I’m fully aware of how the next few days will play out.

Mostly it will include a lot of alcohol, and I’d rather he wasn’t around that, or around me. I know he thinks I’ve been distant the last few days. Hell, he called me out on my behavior, but I couldn’t tell him, the words got stuck, burning a ring around my heart. It was the wall I always had in place, to keep people from getting too close so I couldn’t get hurt again. It failed when Amber came along, Sarah worked her way inside and then Ruben just walked right through the blaze. With him, my defense system never stood a chance. Now, I need to keep him away from all my crazy. Plus, a very real part of me is nervous that if he sees me at my worst, he might re-think being with me. The other part wants to keep him away from the temptation, the evil poison I’ll be pouring down my throat is the only thing I can think about right now, and that’s not healthy.

“Hey girl, you okay?” Sarah asks, sidling up to me, as I stare out of the office window. She knows this day, she knows my routine.

“Yeah, I’m good. I’m going to head off soon,” I tell her through the bubbling cesspool that is currently my stomach.

“Mm-hmm,” she replies. Her lips pursed. I smile through the tick-toking in my ears.

“Actually, I’m going right now,” I choke out, grabbing my purse and not allowing her to respond.

Two hours later and the fog is descending. I’ve made my trip to the liquor store, picked up three bottles of vodka, which I stashed back home for later, and am now happily sitting at Dutch’s Bar. There’s a reason I come here every year. The accident happened just outside this place. It singes me on every level by just being here, but I deserve the pain. The self-loathing is something I don’t try to push away, not for this anniversary. It’s something I deserve, and I welcome every bruise, cut, scrape and tear that the memories evoke in me.

“Hey there,” the very deep male voice says, sliding into the seat beside me. I glance up at him, not even trying to feign politeness. Instead, with my face impassive, I turn away bringing my glass back to my lips relishing the burn going down, fighting the nausea coming up.

“You have a name?” annoying man asks. I ignore him, taking another swig, waiting for the darkness to descend. “Hey, I’m talking to you,” he says a little louder now and jolts me as he grabs my elbow.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” I hiss, turning to him, pain slices through my skull as the drink starts taking its desired effect.

“Whoa, sorry, sugar. No harm intended.” I glance back at him, and this time, really look into his eyes. I can see the gentleness, and my gut tells me he really wasn’t trying to be creepy. I nod toward his general direction, as my eyes seem unable to stay in focus. The pain in my bones from nothing physical finally subsides, as the warmth from the alcohol bathes my senses, helping me forget.

Forcing my body to move, I rise from the stool and make my way to the doors, deciding vodka at home, alone, is the way forward. I ignore the noise, instead making my way into the cold night air. The wind hits my face and my coatless body, making me feel numb on the outside as well as the inside. I pull my feet forward one step at a time, ignoring the lead weights in the bottom of my shoes. My stomach churns as I walk past the point of impact, and I have to force my knees not to buckle as I momentarily lose my footing. I stop and spin toward the wall we hit six years ago, swaying as I go, my rubbery legs turning to stone the minute my eyes focus enough to see the damage to the wall—the blue color from the car paintwork that hasn’t ever completely eroded away. The strain hits me, my knees finally give way as the burn comes up my throat. I collapse down to the ground, lifting my hand to touch the wall as the sting of warm tears hit my frozen cheeks.

“I’m sorry.” My whisper is as broken and my heart. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” another deep male voice greets me, but this time I know the voice. It makes me close my eyes, the rigid hold I had on my body releases and I slump backward, into his warm body as he kneels behind me.

“How did you know where I was?” I ask, my voice betraying the hold I was desperately trying to keep on myself.

“Sarah,” he tells me simply.

“Are you mad?” I question. He knows I’ve been avoiding him, and that I haven’t explained why. Shutting him out isn’t the best thing to do. I’m well aware of that. Yet, I couldn’t seem to open myself completely. We’ve been together for over eight months. I love him, but I haven’t given him the final piece of me. The one piece that I’ve been scared of giving, the one which might make him leave me and never look back.

“Never,” his reply is whispered, and I can’t bring myself to ask anything else.

I’m not sure how we get back to Ruben’s place. I only vaguely remember him lifting me from the ground. I didn’t pass out, but everything from that point until this, seems like a dream, and my brain can’t quite put the pieces together.

“Here,” Ruben’s voice calls from behind me, and I take in where I am. Lying in his bed, I turn over and watch as he walks in through the doorway and places what looks like a cup of coffee on a bedside table. I’ve stayed over here many times. Ruben has been asking me over and over to move in with him. I’ve been putting him off, knowing he doesn’t know everything, that there may be some things that he can’t see past, and this has forced my hand making me choose to keep my own space.

Since Amber left, it’s turned back into an empty, emotionless apartment, somewhere I lay my head and keep my belongings. I forgot how empty life is when someone you love leaves. I’ve been spending more time at Ruben’s. The last few weeks, though, because I’ve been avoiding him, it’s turned me into a lonely, broken, depressed woman. I can see now that I should have let him in. Keeping him at arm’s length has only made my hurt worse.

“I have to tell you something,” I blurt the words out before the churning in my stomach turns into the physical manifestation of all the liquor I’ve consumed.

“Okay,” he says, sitting on the bed and running his hand up my leg until it meets mine. He entwines our fingers, and I look down at our joined hands. Flexing my fingers in his, I try to draw strength from our shared love. Everything we’ve had over the last eight months has built up to something I never thought possible.

“You’ve been asking me to move in with you. I want to, truly. You need to know my demons, the ones you said you could see?” He nods. The fingers of my free hand bend until the nails find their way into my palm, biting down and giving me that little bit of pain I need to push myself forward. “The day, in the car, the crash… the one that killed them. It was my fault.”

I feel Ruben’s hand spasm in mine, and I pull my fingers away from his… needing the space. He doesn’t try to take my hand back, and I’m both grateful for him giving me the space I need, and sad that he isn’t fighting to keep a hold of me. Swallowing hard as my stomach rolls and I try not to retch, I say the words I haven’t told anyone since the cops all those years ago. “I was driving. It was me who crashed. Me who killed the only people in the world that loved me.” At that point it’s too late, the mixed spirits make an appearance all over his bed, burning my throat on their way up.

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