Heartbroken (Gritt Family Book 1)

by Gabrielle G.

  “Are those your panties?” he says, pointing at my underwear on his bed. I nod, blushing. “Fuck! Shit! Fuck!” He rasps one hand pulling his hair while the other is shoved in his pants. “Your panties are on my bed, Al,” he grunts. I pick them up quickly and slip them on under my towel.

  “Are you mad?” I ask not sure what his expression means but certainly knowing it’s not a joyful one.

  “I’m not mad, but I need a fucking shower, a cold one!” He turns to the wall and bangs his head against it. “You drive me insane! Get dressed and go downstairs.” His harsh tone hurts.

  A lump forms in my throat.

  I reach for my bra and dress and slip them on as fast as I can before running out of his room. I’m mortified. Replaying what just happened, I dash down the stairs, pass by a confused Mrs. Gritt and make it to the door. Once out, I have no escape. I’m sixteen, but my parents haven’t bought me a car, nor have they allowed me to take the driving exam. My mom dropped me off after practice, and Aaron was supposed to drive me home. I could walk, but I’m barefoot.

  “Alane? Are you alright, sweetie?” Mrs. Gritt appears on their porch, Barnabas on her hip. “Did something happen with Aaron? Did he try to touch you?”

  I shake my head. If only he had, I wouldn’t feel like the neighborhood slut trying once again to convince my boyfriend to put his hands on me. But that’s what I am, a perverted mind, thinking about sex all the time. Not my game, not my schoolwork, but my boyfriend and all the dirty things I wish we could do.

  Overwhelmed by culpability, I cry. Barnabas reaches out to me and nuzzles his perfect little nose in my neck while Mrs. Gritt rubs my back in a soothing way my mother never has. After being around the Gritts a few times, I realized my parents were distant and cold. They never hugged me or comforted me. The first time Mrs. Gritt did, I was in shock and had no idea what to do or how to react. Now though, I know to let it all out, on Aaron’s mother’s shoulder, allowing my tears to soak her T-shirt while Barnabas hugs me tight.

  “I don’t like to see you sad,” his little voice tells me. “I’ll go punch Aaron for you!”

  “Or I’ll do it.” Luke’s voice comes from behind before embracing his mother, little brother and I.

  “Do you want me to drive you home, Captain?” he asks.

  “Luke, you don’t have your license,” his mother chastises.

  “Is it really any different than driving a tractor, Mom?”

  “I guess not, just don’t get caught by the sheriff. I don’t need your dad to go drinking all night long with his buddy for him to forget your stupid behavior.” Letting me go, she looks at me with compassion and adds, “Are you sure you don’t want to talk to him?” I shake my head, still not able to tell her what happened.

  “Okay, sweetie. Come on, Barnabas, let the girl go,” she says reaching for the boy in my arms. I can’t let Aaron take the blame.

  “It’s all my fault, Mrs. Gritt. He’s the noble one here,” I say withdrawing from her, blushing and averting my eyes.

  “I see… Why don’t you come for tea this week, and we could discuss the issue that is tormenting you? I’m pretty sure your mother hasn’t touched the subject of young love and sexual desire, has she?” I shake my head. What I would have given to have a mother like Mrs. Gritt.

  Luke drives me home in silence, at a snail’s pace. He doesn’t want to pry; he wants me to tell him what happened. It’s awkward, but I know I can confide in him. If someone can understand what guilt and sins are about, it’s him. Breathing in, I dive into the conversation.

  “Aar doesn’t want to have sex with me,” I say drying my cold but sweaty fingers on my dress.

  “Not true,” Luke says his eyes on the road.

  “He keeps pushing me away.”

  “True. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want you. He made a promise to your father; he wants to honor it.”

  “But it still means he doesn’t want to touch me.”

  “Captain, look, he’s a seventeen-year-old boy with a hot girlfriend, believe me, he wants to touch you. But Aaron has a conscience. If you wanted to get fucked quick and dirty, you should have gone out with Chris. That guy will fuck anyone. Aaron loves you and respects you. That’s not a bad thing.” I shrug. It’s not a bad thing, but it doesn’t make me feel better. By the time we arrive at my house, Aaron is parked in front of the church, waiting for me.

  “If you think he was going to let you go without a fight, you really don’t know my brother,” Luke says waving at Aaron. “Talk to him, he’s just trying to do right by your father.” Aaron is making his way toward me, a scowl on his face and pain in his eyes. “Go, Captain, make it better,” Luke says, shoving me out of the car. He doesn’t even wait for the door to close properly before driving away, leaving me with his brother.

  “I’m so fucking sorry, Sweets. I should… I wish we could… You know I love you, right?”

  “I know. It’s just that being around you makes me lose control. My whole life is spinning with how much I want you. I need to focus on school and hockey, and I can’t deal with it when I’m with you.”

  “What are you saying?” There is a tremor in his voice. “I can’t lose you, Al. I need you. You’re the only one I can talk to, aside from Luke. You take my silence, my bad jokes, my passion. I love you and the challenge I see in your eyes. I love how you roll your eyes when I say something stupid. You can’t dump me. I can’t lose you. I never wanted to hurt you tonight. I was just trying to do the right thing.” He sobs, breaking my heart, but holding my hands and rubbing his thumbs on my knuckles as he often does.

  “I’m not breaking up with you, Aar,” I say, bringing one hand to his heart “How could I? I love you too much. I just need a little space to get my head straight. Maybe we can avoid being alone for a while?” Aaron shakes his head not accepting my deal.

  “That’s what your father wants, you know? He wants me out of the picture. He suggests it every chance he gets. He thought you would turn me down, but once we started dating, he didn’t think we would last. He also said that if I break my promise, he’d take you away; send you to your aunt in Arizona or something like that. I can’t lose you, Al. Please don’t make me lose you.” The idea of losing Aaron burns a hole in my heart.

  Could I think of going to practice without him or be at school without finding him in my classroom, a donut in his hand for me? I know I can’t go back to be the girl before Aaron. I don’t even know what it is to be in high school without him.

  “Okay,” I whisper, “but you can’t make me feel guilty for what I want to do with you. I get enough of that at home.”

  “I’ll give you anything you want, even if it means burning in Hell for you, but please don’t leave me, ever.” He kisses my nose, my eyelids, and my cheekbones.

  “Never leave me, please,” he repeats over and over drying his tears and kissing me all over.

  Deep inside me, I know there is no way I could ever walk away from Aaron.

  I would walk away from hockey, from my parents, from everything else before walking away from him, and it scares the shit out of me.

  10

  Now – Alane

  My first anxiety attack happened while I was suspended from a ceiling, blindfolded with a tie and my wrists bound together. I knew the man kissing me, it was my husband, but I didn’t know the one thrusting between my legs.

  It was the first time I used my safe word.

  After years of pushing the boundaries of my sexuality, I had finally reached my limit. It wasn’t the first time I was suspended, blindfolded or bound, and it certainly wasn’t the first time I had sex with a stranger, but for some reason I just couldn’t go through with it. It was nothing violent, or at least, nothing different than our ordinary play, nothing out of my comfort zone. Adam just turned seventeen at the time, was a handsome and happy boy, looking more and more like his dad. I was happy in my marriage, Mark and I were amazing, and everything else was fine. I was living the life I wanted to and even n
ow, after years of therapy, I don’t know what triggered the anxiety.

  That day marks the beginning of the end of my conjugal life.

  Mark and I had met at the club, and these plays were part of our sexual relationship. Step by step, I refused any scenes that were generating anxiety and soon, I couldn’t have sex anymore with anybody else but my husband, in a bed, missionary style, which wasn’t what he had signed up for.

  The first time Mark showed any interest in me, I was a waitress at the club trying to pay for school to become a teacher.

  I had arrived in Arizona three years earlier and had needed time to get back on my feet after Aaron had shattered my heart and self-esteem.

  My long-term plans had changed from one day to the next, and I had no idea what my future held. Mark was a regular, and as per my boss’s rules, I wasn’t supposed to get involved with him, unless he requested me. Once a member invited a waiter or waitress, it was up to us to decide if we wanted to be part of their world, but then we couldn’t serve anymore, and if the regular didn’t want us, we couldn’t come back.

  Getting involved with one of them was a significant risk.

  I had seen him around. He looked magnificent in his suits, and such darkness emanated from him, that I was drawn to him right away. Needing to be discreet, I checked him out surreptitiously. I was making decent money, and even though Mark intrigued me, and the club scene turned me on, I told him no when he approached me the first time. But Mark, who was ten years older than I was, didn’t give up. He said he knew the moment he saw me that we could be great partners. It took me one year to have enough money set aside so I could pay up to my last semester. Mark had proposed to pay all my expenses, but I couldn’t get paid for pleasure. That’s where I was drawing the line.

  Once I changed jobs, I joined the club, first as Mark’s guest and very soon after, as his girlfriend, and then his wife.

  For fifteen years, I pushed every boundary I could.

  The pastor’s virgin daughter was long gone.

  I never told Mark I was a virgin when we started dating, not that he would have believed me anyway, nobody ever did.

  In fifteen years, I couldn’t tell you how many men or women I slept with, but since our separation seven years ago, I know exactly how many people I’ve had sex with: zero. I haven’t had sex since Mark. Sex triggers my anxiety, as well as any situation where I think Adam is in danger or I don’t feel in control.

  Yesterday, when I was angry with Aaron, I felt a desire I hadn’t felt in a while.

  Fighting and anger were part of the foreplay with Mark, so why wouldn’t I be turned on by fighting with another man, and not just any other man, but the one I never experienced between my legs. Unfortunately, as soon as I left the classroom, I could feel the distress taking over.

  Angst filled me, and I had just enough time to rush to my car and hide from him before the meltdown showed its face. I managed to calm myself down with my mantras, but I felt like the world was about to swallow me whole, or maybe I wished Aaron would.

  Dealing with my anxiety is a daily struggle, and most of my friends and family don’t understand it, not that I have many friends left. Over the years, Mark and I surrounded ourselves with people who lived the same lifestyle as us. Once I renounced it, I was alone, again. It seems my entourage is always conditional to the men I date. In a way, it’s easier not to have to explain why I’m not dating and why I’m repeating the same sentences over and over.

  Only my ex-husband and my son know about my condition.

  Since anxiety attacks are not clinically defined conditions, the only thing doctors can do is listen to my symptoms and life events. I had anxiety, which was triggered in certain situations. That’s it, that’s all. The most I could do was to acknowledge when it happens, breathe, try to relax, and be mindful, which is why I am keeping a journal of probable triggers.

  Thanks to what happened yesterday, Aaron Gritt has won his very own entry, which means I need to avoid fighting with the man, or maybe I should just avoid the man altogether.

  “Look who the cat dragged in,” a younger than me, but seriously hot guy, says with a smirk on his face that I know too well. There are boys you can’t forget, even if you run into them twenty-seven years later in a coffee shop full of backpackers.

  “Do I know you?” I ask while sipping my coffee to hide my smile. Joining his hands to his chest, he scoffs as if I’ve sent an arrow directly to his heart.

  “Ask a woman to marry you, and she forgets who you are!” he says dramatically. A few steps behind him is Aaron, and I can’t deny the genes they share.

  “Compared to others,” I point my chin in the direction of Aaron, “I recognize people easily, Barnabas,” I say, wrapping him in a hug. “You grew up quite a lot since the last time I saw you.”

  “And you haven’t changed, Alane. So, when can I marry you?” His charming smile is unmistakably a panty-dropper all over town. He sits down facing me, obliging Aaron to come closer.

  “You’re almost the same age as my son. There is no way…”

  “You have a son?” Aaron asks. I ignore him.

  “Luke told me you haven’t changed, but you are even more beautiful than I remember.” Barnabas is beaming at me like he used to when he was a little kid.

  “Thanks, but you were five, Barn.” I blush. Aaron grunts in the back before coming closer. He’s overshadowing me. I should feel claustrophobic, but I don’t.

  Having him so close feels natural, even after all these years.

  “I came here to grab you a coffee; I owe you an apology, Al. I was an ass yesterday, and…”

  “Oh shit! Is this happening? I promised Luke I would take a video of the apology. Let’s FaceTime him right away.” Barnabas gets his phone out.

  “Shut up,” Aaron sends a stern look to his brother. “Look, Al, I’m sorry. I was taken aback, and I think that’s why I didn’t recognize you. I’ve heard you were back in town, but I figured if you wanted to see me, you would have reached out. As you never did when you visited your parents, I wasn’t counting on it this time either. I just never thought you were my kids' teacher, it’s a little…” I raise my hand to stop him.

  How did he become such a pompous ass? Why would I ever reach out to my ex-boyfriend who pulled the rug out from under my feet?

  Inhaling a calming breath, I take him in.

  “No need to apologize. So much time has passed by that Barn is even an adult now. I’m pretty sure you can behave like one, Aaron.” For a reason I can’t comprehend, he takes this for an invitation to sit next to his brother. I turn my whole body toward Barnabas trying hard not to acknowledge Aaron’s beautiful face and perfect eyes. I don’t want to lose myself in him again. I don’t know him anymore, and I don’t want to know him ever again.

  “So, what do you do now, Barn? How is Salomé?” Barnabas smiles at me, understanding I’m indeed ignoring his brother. His eyes tell me that he’s got me, and it’s a nice change to have someone who’s got my back.

  “I work at the farm.” He wrinkles his nose. “All my siblings followed their dreams, so it’s all up to me to follow in our parents' footsteps.” That doesn’t sound like the parents I used to know.

  “From what I remember, your parents had no problem letting their kids follow their dreams, even if it meant they were abandoning those they claimed to love behind,” I say with a saccharine smile to sweeten the bitterness of my past.

  “Ouch,” Barnabas says. “Is that a blow for Aaron or my parents?”

  I laugh nervously. “All of them?” I raise my eyebrows.

  “Fair enough,” Barn answers. “Sal was a big shot baker in New York until she found her fiancé balls deep in her business partner, after having learned they had bought her out. She came back home and now organizes weddings at the farm and does all the baking we sell.” Having a wedding at the farm is something Aaron and I discussed a lot. I look at him, and I can see he remembers.

  His smile is genuine, but I shake my
head as to tell him not to go there.

  “And you, Mrs. Smith? You have a son, so are you married?” Barnabas asks. I don’t want to share my life with Barnabas, and even less in front of Aaron, but on the other hand, I don’t want him to think I was the pathetic single girl he insulted yesterday.

  “Divorced.” I give in. Aaron nods as if knowing what it is about and Barnabas frowns.

  “What dickhead would let you go?” The fit of laughter that follows is a nervous one at first until the ridiculousness of the situation kicks in, and I look at Aaron’s contorted face.

  “Shit, Barnabas, you’re still the cutest!” I stand to get ready to leave when Aaron finds the ability to speak again.

  “Can you let me know if there is anything more happening with Hailey? I talked to her last night, but just in case…”

  “I’m sorry, Patricia said she would take care of the Gritt family for me. She even asked me if it’s true, you are divorcing.” I smirk, knowing it’s been years that she’s been trying to get one of the Gritt’s to notice her. Aaron scoffs.

  “I don’t touch my brother’s sloppy seconds.” He smirks at Barnabas.

  “Barn.” I laugh.

  “I was young and impressionable. She was sexy as fuck.” He shrugs non-apologetically.

  “I get that. After all, who am I to judge?”

  “Now, as for the love of my life… Unlike Aaron, I see no harm in pursuing someone he has a past with,” he answers before being slapped behind the head by Aaron. I chuckle while Barnabas’ eyes widen.

  “I really have to go. Barnabas, I hope I see you around. Say hi to your sister for me, and your parents, of course.”