Broken

by Tia Sirrah

  The night after we returned from Chicago, Conner had come home with a bruised hand. When asking him about it, he gave me some bogus story about punching some guy at a bar while he was out with Quentin. I was skeptical, to say the least. "Marcus, I’m sorry. I had no idea. But the things you said to him…not cool."

  Marcus got down from the barstool and walked over to stand beside me. "Don’t apologize for him. And I don’t regret one word of what I said." He ran the tip of his finger up my arm and reached for a curly lock of my hair.

  I stepped away from his touch. "Marcus, you have to listen to me. You and I are over. Conner and I love each other very much. This," I gestured between us, "is not going to happen." He squeezed his eyes shut before regarding me again.

  I blamed myself for allowing things to go as far as they did between us. I used Marcus to fill a void in me and to nurse my bruised ego and lessen the pain of my broken heart. I wished that I could take it all back. Before we had sex, we were good friends. Now, that was ruined. We could never go back to the way things were before.

  "You don’t even know him, Novalee."

  "No, Marcus, you don’t know him," I snapped, my voice laced with frustration.

  "Well, did you know that your boyfriend got my scholarship revoked?" His balled fist hit the island top, startling me. "The goddamn funding got pulled. Oh, and to make matters even more fucked up, the disciplinary board says that they have proof that I cheated on my final exams. They’re threatening expulsion, Novalee."

  I shook my head in disbelief. "Conner wouldn’t do that. And he has no power at the university."

  "Get real, Novalee. I did some research on your boyfriend. Dude has deep pockets and a well-connected name. He can do whatever the fuck he wants. They always can." Marcus massaged the back of his neck. "I have never cheated a day in my life. He just wants me gone, away from you." He took a deep breath, before turning and leaning his back against the island edge. "I worked too hard to get to where I am. This shit isn’t worth it. I came here to tell you that. I’m done. Tell your boyfriend to lay the fuck off. This is my future he’s messing with. I don’t have a rich daddy to fall back on if this all goes south."

  I was stunned, the words stuck in my throat. "You said he threatened you? What did he say, exactly?"

  "He asked me if I liked going to school here. Told me it would be a shame to make it this far, only to have it all taken away."

  I swallowed back nausea.

  "I know you don’t love me," Marcus said, defeated. "I guess I just had to see you and hear it, face to face." He brushed his hands across my knuckles before pushing off the counter and standing up straight. "Tell him to leave me the fuck alone. He can’t take away everything I’ve worked so hard for over a fucking pissing contest. I bow out. He can have the girl," he said, as he put his sunglasses back on. Marcus walked out of my apartment without saying another word. I stood there, stupefied and fuming.

  ∞∞∞

  I EXITED THE ELEVATOR ON the top floor of the Brathwaite Inc. building. I sashayed up to the receptionist station. "Hey, Lydia," I waved to a smiling Lydia. A couple of businessmen gave me curt nods as they walked past the reception area. I nodded in return.

  "Hey, Novalee! What a beautiful color that is on you," Lydia beamed, referring to my teal blue open shoulder shift dress. As soon as Marcus left my place, I changed my clothes and headed straight to Conner’s office.

  "Thank you, Lydia." I gave her a warm smile. "I need to see Conner."

  "Mr. Brathwaite is actually in a meeting right now," she said as she scanned her computer screen. "But I’ll let him know that you’re here."

  "No need to interrupt. What time is his meeting over?"

  "It’s alright, Novalee. I have strict instructions from Mr. Brathwaite to always put your calls and visits through, no matter what." She gave me a shy smile. "Have a seat. Can I get you something to drink?"

  "No, thank you." I headed towards the sleek modern lobby area. I absentmindedly flipped through a magazine, my mind reeling over the conversation that I had with Marcus. Conner had no right to put Marcus’s education at risk. Marcus had earned his scholarships for undergrad and dental school through his academic accomplishments. To have his scholarship revoked and to be suspected of cheating not only affected him but his entire family. He was the first in his family to go to college. I was not going to let Conner take it all away.

  "Novalee," Lydia called from behind the reception counter. "Conner said for you to head to his office. He’ll be out of his meeting shortly."

  "Thanks, Lydia." I rose from my seat and headed down the long corridor to Conner’s office at the end of the hall. Lydia smiled as she watched me, curiosity once again gleaming in her eyes. It was evident that she had a major crush on Conner, always blushing whenever he was near. I understood. Many women were left flustered in his presence.

  I strolled into his spacious corner office; my heels muffled on the plush carpet. His father’s corner office was down the opposite hall. Floor to ceiling privacy windows covered an entire wall. The city bustled below, and neighboring high-rise buildings surrounded Brathwaite Inc. I skimmed over Conner’s spotless desk. Four Montblanc pens were meticulously lined up in a neat row near his desk phone. I picked up a framed black and white photo of me which sat beside his sleek computer screen. It was a candid shot that Conner had taken with me unaware. In the photo, I was laughing hysterically, my head tilted back, and my wild hair blowing in the wind.

  Conner walked through his office door. His presence suddenly filled the room, making it instantly seem smaller. "This is a pleasant surprise," he said as he closed the door behind him. He was impeccably dressed in a Tom Ford black suit, white dress shirt, and a maroon tie. I situated the picture back on his desk as he came over and wrapped his arms around me. He leaned down to kiss me on the lips, but I turned my head from him, causing his lips to brush my cheek. He gave me a puzzling look before releasing me. Straightening his tie and schooling his features into his usual stony mask that he donned for the outside world, he asked, "Everything okay, angel?"

  I sat down in a chair in front of his desk. "Care to explain again how you bruised your knuckles?"

  Conner sat back in his chair and tilted his head. "Care to explain why Marcus was at your place today?" he deadpanned.

  "Checking up on me now, Conner? Which one of your lackeys do you have spying on me?" I looked at him, straight-faced, and waited for his reply.

  He tented his fingertips together in front of him, resting his elbows on the arms of his chair. His cocky and always in control demeanor usually turned me on, but at this moment, it irritated the hell out of me. "It’s only for your protection since you refuse to have security detail. Now…Answer. The. Fucking. Question," he said, even-keel.

  I glowered at him. "Fuck you, Conner."

  His eyebrows climbed in amused surprise. "Well, you can. If you think it’ll straighten out this little tantrum you’re having."

  "In your dreams," I said with a humorless chuckle. "How could you do that to Marcus?"

  "Why do you care?" He looked at me impassively. If it wasn’t for the icy glint in his eyes, one could have misinterpreted him for being aloof, instead of furious.

  "Jealous?" I countered, meeting his arctic stare.

  He chuckled. "Yeah, that’s it."

  My fingers bit into the arms of my chair. "Have I ever given you a reason to doubt me? Have I ever lied to you?"

  The icy glint momentarily melted away. Something else flickered in Conner’s eyes, but only for the briefest moment. "I didn’t plan on hitting the guy. He pissed me off, and I overreacted. But I told you to handle it, Novalee. And since you did such a piss poor job at handling it, I took matters in my own hands. You’re welcome."

  I felt my nostrils flare at his flippant response. "You had no right to speak on my behalf. You think I couldn’t handle a couple of text messages?" I leaned forward and slammed my hand on his desk. "I don’t need saving! You’re so damn heavy-handed som
etimes. It’s suffocating." I took a deep breath, trying and failing to steady my nerves. "I made it perfectly clear to Marcus today that we were over."

  "And how did he take that news?"

  "He’s done, Conner. He said you win. Which is absurd, because I’m not a freaking object, some prize to be won. I’m your girlfriend. About to be the mother of your child."

  I swallowed the lump in my throat before asking him the next question. "Are you responsible for his scholarship being revoked and him being accused of cheating?" Conner momentarily looked away from my eyes before meeting my stare again. I slumped back in my chair. Disappointment seeped through my pores. "Do you have any idea what you’ve done?" I was met with his silence. "You can’t just play with his future like he’s an insignificant pawn. And for what? To teach him a lesson?" I leaned forward, resting my elbows on his desk, and my forehead against the palms of my hands. "Some of the things he said to you were out of line, but you shouldn’t have confronted him in the first place. What if I confronted all the Sashas from your past? You get hit on all the time! They flirt with you in front of me, for goodness sakes. Women slide in my DMs all the time, just to taunt me about having had sex with you before."

  "I’ve never disrespected you or given you a reason to doubt my loyalty," he defended.

  "And have I given you reason to doubt mine?"

  "No, you haven’t. But you’re asking me to fall back and not claim what’s mine. To stand by and let him disrespect me, disrespect us. That’s not who I am. That’s not going to happen." He stared back at me; his face resolute.

  "If you can’t see that there is something seriously morally corrupt about the things you did to him, then we have a big problem." I gathered my purse and stood.

  "Wait, where are you going?" He asked, a bit of panic in his voice.

  "I’m leaving. I need some space from all this...from you. Don’t call me until you fix this."

  "You can’t be serious right now?" He asked, incredulously. He appeared perplexed as he rose from his chair.

  I was at the door with my hand on the doorknob. In an instant, Conner was behind me, his hand pressed against the door, holding it shut. "Maybe I took things a little far."

  "Conner, please." I turned to face him and looked up at him with resolve, frustration, and disappointment. "I’m staying at my place tonight. You need to stay at yours."

  "What the fuck does that mean? Jesus, Novalee. I’ll fix it," he said. He caged me in with his arms outstretched, his palms flat against the door. "I’ll make everything go away." He lowered his head and looked me in my eyes. "Now, enough." Clasping the nape of my neck, he trailed kisses along my face and throat. He leaned into me, our bodies flush against the door. I kept my arms at my sides, and I balled my hands into fists. I turned from him, trying to avoid his kisses, which only provided him easy access to the beating pulse in my neck. He sucked on it with just the right amount of pressure.

  I closed my eyes, reveling in the feel of his tongue, his lips, and his hands. "Conner," I warned through a sultry moan, as he slipped my panties down.

  "I’m sorry, angel. Now let me make it up to you," he said, as he dropped to his knees. He nuzzled his nose into my bare crotch and sniffed my center as if it were a fragrant flower.

  I threaded my hands through his hair as he lifted my leg over his suit-clad shoulder. With my back against his office door, he made it up to me, alright. With his wicked-hot tongue. And I forgave him, through my stifled moans that he covered with his hand.

  Chapter 14

  CONNER PARKED HIS BLACK 1967 Corvette L88 Coupe in the circular driveway of my parents’ home. He turned towards me as I forlornly stared ahead. I chewed on my lower lip, and absentmindedly rubbed my abdomen. A blood test, taken a couple of days ago, confirmed what I already knew. I was very much pregnant. My first prenatal appointment with my new obstetrician, Dr. Zora Shavers, was scheduled for next week. Dr. Shavers was the best OBGYN in the area. She was a Harvard grad who was well respected in the community and beyond for her reputation and medical expertise. Currently not accepting new patients, she made an exception for us, as she was the spouse of one of Conner’s poker buddies.

  "My dad’s going to freak," I said before applying another coat of nude gloss to my lips.

  Conner lightly grazed his knuckles along my jaw. "It’s going to be okay. You’re a grown woman who is having a baby. There are far worse things."

  "I know," I sighed. "My dad can be…intense at times. Well, maybe not as intense as you are, but close." A soft smile formed on his lips. "I just really want my dad to like you. And you’re already on his shit list."

  "Look at me." He turned my face toward him by gently clasping my chin. "Don’t worry about your father wanting to castrate me." I tenderly smiled at him for trying and failing to lighten the mood. "You let me deal with your father, okay?" He softly kissed my lips, and our foreheads met.

  Conner was out of the doghouse with me. With just one phone call, he had Marcus’s scholarship reinstated, and the cheating scandal was eradicated from his record. I still didn’t know how Conner was able to pull off such a vicious assault on Marcus. His money, power, and influence were dangerous weapons in his arsenal against whoever got in his way.

  "Let’s do this." I exhaled. I knew that whatever happened in there, I would be okay with Conner by my side. But acceptance from my dad meant more to me than I cared to admit.

  I adjusted the flowy skirt of my floor-length royal blue maxi dress after Conner closed the passenger door behind me. The relaxed fit dress hung loose on my otherwise slender frame, effectively shielding my small baby bump. The smell of grilled steaks waffled up my nostrils, and I immediately felt queasy. I put a finger up to my nose, which was a failed attempt to block out the nauseous smells of red meat. I told dad that Conner didn’t eat red meat, and I’m sure this was a nice "f you" to my boyfriend.

  "You okay?" Conner placed a gentle kiss to my forehead before gently rubbing my bump.

  I nodded. "Yeah. I’ll be fine," I reassured, smiling faintly.

  "You look beautiful," he said as he ran his fingers through my curly hair.

  "You don’t look too bad yourself." Conner wore a white polo shirt and a pair of light khaki shorts. His preppy look was just a disguise. It softened the overpowering and stern edge that tended to radiate off him, especially in unfamiliar or uncomfortable situations. Vulnerable, flexible, and easy-going Conner only appeared in the privacy of our homes during our intimate and carefree moments together. Even still, those times were rare, too rare, as I longed for him to shed the shadows that lingered behind his eyes.

  "Don’t forget the gifts," I reminded. Conner retrieved a bottle of Delamin Le Voyage Cognac for my dad, and a flowering Japanese Satsuki Bonsai Tree for Helena, to add to her collection.

  Conner followed closely behind me with the gifts, as I unlocked the door to my family home and entered inside. "Daddy? Helena?" I called out, my voice echoing throughout the expansive foyer. Helena appeared at the top of the catwalk staircase, beaming from ear to ear. Dimples pierced her cheeks as she smiled at us. Her long black hair cascaded down her back in big barrel curls. She gracefully descended the stairway dressed in a lavender tea length summer dress made by yours truly. Helena was the epitome of timeless beauty with a figure and grace of a dancer.

  "Hi, Helena." I beamed in return, as I took the bonsai tree from Conner and handed it to her.

  "Mrs. Dumont, ma’am," Conner greeted, smiling naturally.

  Helena’s smile brightened as she looked up at Conner. "How many times do I have to tell you. It’s Helena." They embraced, and she air-kissed the side of his cheek.

  She addressed me next. "For me?" She exaggeratedly pressed her manicured hand to her chest. "This is lovely. Thank you, dear," she said as she took the bonsai tree from me. She kissed both my cheeks before setting the bonsai tree on the foyer table.

  Helena quickly assessed me, her eyes subtly skimming me over. Based on her facial expression, she approved
of my outfit yet silently admonished my wild curls and septum piercing. "You look beautiful, dear. Even with the big hair." She winked and tweaked my nose with her fingertip. "At least it’s soft and healthy-looking," she reconciled as she scrunched her hands in my curls. "Still a little audacious, I’m sure. Especially in certain settings." She looked over at Conner, studying his reaction as if looking for an ally.

  "I think it rocks," Conner said before softly kissing me on the forehead.

  "Well, what do I know. I guess I’m just old fashion." She smiled and gave my hand a gentle squeeze. Conner eyed me sympathetically. I shrugged my shoulders, as if to say, this is normal in the Dumont household.

  "I’ve missed you two," Helena said before linking arms with Conner and me. She led us through the formal living room towards the deck out back.

  "I’m going to go freshen up a bit." I could feel the bile rising my throat. "I’ll be right back," I called out as I unlinked arms with Helena and hurried to the bathroom. I felt their eyes on me as I scurried to the bathroom and swiftly closed the door.

  "Okay, dear," Helena called out. "Is she alright?" I heard her ask Conner before I hurled in the toilet.

  A few minutes later, I brushed my teeth with my travel-size toothbrush kit, which I always kept in my purse. After freshening up, I made my way towards the backyard, following the sounds of 90’s R&B drifting from the speakers. Through the windows, I saw Conner standing with my father in front of the grill. I lamented over the fact that I didn’t get a chance to properly introduce them to one another. Hopefully, Helena was able to break the ice and things were going smoothly.

  Conner looked relaxed enough. He stood with his hands in his front pockets, attentively listening to my father. It was nice, seeing the two men in my life standing together, seemingly getting along. Dad was a few inches shorter than Conner, standing at 5’11. Dad was an avid runner and golfer and was in great shape for 47 years old. He was lean, like Conner, but had less muscle mass.