Broken and Beautiful

by Ryan, Kendall

  “What can I get you?” He leans forward and speaks in my ear over the loud thumping of the bass.

  “Tequila Sunrise,” I shout, scanning the crowd for our friends. I know they’re here because I texted Kenny from the car.

  Finally I spot them. Kenny is wearing a filmy red dress that’s thigh-high and has spaghetti straps. Slayde is in his usual jeans and black tank, leaving his muscled arms and ink on full display. I watch a moment as he smooths his hand down her arm. My best friend leans in and kisses him lightly on the lips, and I try not to ache for Stuart.

  When she sees me, she waves and skips over on mile-high black stilettos. “Hey! Hey!” She dances up and gives me a hug.

  Slayde follows at a slower pace. Once he reaches us, he squeezes my shoulder. “Hey, girl, you ready for tomorrow?”

  “I think so. Thanks.” I nod as Pete hands me my drink and take a long pull hoping the alcohol will ease my racing nerves.

  Slayde and I have been working on finding the doctor who diagnosed and treated me all those years ago, and he’s pretty sure he has the right guy. Tomorrow afternoon, we’re headed to his office in Seaside Park to try and get some answers.

  “I’ll pick you up at one,” he shouts as a David Guetta song blasts through the air.

  “My jam!” Kenny squeals, grabbing my arm and dragging me to the dance floor.

  Her red dress shimmers around her upper thighs, and her deep purple hair swishes in long whips with her movements.

  “I have to confess…” Kenny starts. We’re back to back then we turn and face each other for a little shimmy in time with the music. “As much as I miss the old Mariska, I love your new look. Tres chic.”

  I shake my head, letting my new haircut bounce around my cheekbones. “I feel like I’m in disguise. I don’t know who I am anymore.”

  Her dark brows pull together, and she does a little frown. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

  Shrugging, I raise my eyebrows and take another long sip of tequila. “I don’t see how I could feel any other way.” After all I’ve lost.

  Her purple head tilts to the side. “Still, I hope you’re looking for answers and not giving up on finding them.”

  “I’m not looking for anything.” My voice sounds strangely cold to me, but it’s the truth. These past few weeks have taught me nothing is guaranteed. I’m not holding onto anything anymore.

  We’re at the edge of the enormous dance floor in the center of the bar. A disco ball sends showers of speckled lights all around us, and strobes bounce off every shiny thing. A spray of fake smoke filters around our feet, and girls dressed in fringe twist and churn in dancer cages at the four corners.

  A second level houses rows of red-vinyl booths with small tables leading to balconies where patrons can look down on us from above. It’s impressively posh, and it’s steadily filling with Ocean County singles.

  We’re in the middle of a crowd of dancers, and they’re all moving and swaying to the beat when I notice a few girls to the right of us by the bar pulling each other’s arms and pointing. One starts to giggle and covers her mouth, and curiosity gets the better of me.

  Turning my head, I look for whatever has them so excited. Two men, impressively tall and very well dressed are standing across the bar. Looking closer, I realize Slayde is talking to one of them. Pete is standing beside him looking a mixture of disgusted and uncomfortable.

  My throat tightens as I watch them start to walk in our direction. When the tall man steps out of the shadows, I stop dancing. I’m standing on the dance floor facing Stuart.

  My heart clenches, and my stomach cramps. I can’t decide which way I want to run—to him or out the door. He studies me for several moments, and I see all the emotions warring in my chest reflected in his eyes.

  He’s my man.

  He’s not my man.

  I need to go to him.

  I need to stay away from him.

  What is he doing here???

  Kenny stops dancing when she sees where I’m looking, and I feel her hand clasp mine. “Are you okay?”

  I can’t answer her. I can’t move as Stuart Knight begins moving toward me. Dancing couples part before him like the Red Sea before Moses, and in my peripheral vision, I notice Pete is coming toward me from a different angle.

  Stuart arrives first, and for a moment we’re suspended in time so close we could touch each other. My skin is humming, and my head feels light.

  “You’ve changed your hair.” His voice is like warm liquid spilling through my insides. I almost close my eyes. Almost.

  “I’ve changed a lot of things.” I’m shocked at how calm my voice sounds. My heart is thumping all around in my chest.

  “Not everything, I hope.” He smiles, revealing those straight white teeth. My thumb itches to touch his chin.

  “I wouldn’t even know how to begin to answer that.”

  Another song starts up, and the dancers around us close the gap, twisting and turning to the music.

  Pete’s at my side, and I feel him touch my arm. “Is he bothering you?” he shouts over the noise, but I can’t look away from Stuart.

  I notice Kenny at my side, taking his arm. “Come on, tough guy,” she says. “I’ll buy you a drink.”

  A dancer bumps into me, sending me straight into Stuart’s chest. A wave of cedar-tinged Stuart-smell assaults my senses, and I exhale a little noise. Thankfully, it’s lost in the music. Oh, god, how I’ve missed his scent.

  “Can we go somewhere else?” Our faces are so close, and his smoky hazel eyes brim with… something. “Away from the noise?”

  I’m afraid to be alone with him. I don’t know if I’m strong enough yet. I’m pretty sure I’ll never be strong enough to tell him to go to hell. I don’t even know if that’s what I want to say. Still, with all we’ve been through and all I’ve learned, I can’t be the person I was before.

  “I don’t know,” I answer truthfully. “I’m not sure if I’m ready.”

  He glances down, and my eyes run all over his face. His hair is longer than he usually wears it. It ends in shaggy curls around his ears. His face is lined and tired, and his body is lean again, like it was when we were first together when he was fighting the drugs.

  “You’ve been working.”

  “Trying to kill the pain.” His voice is rough, and it moves something inside me.

  “The stairs in the back lead down to the beach.” I point in the direction of the DJ booth. “We can walk along the shore if you want.”

  He nods and follows me as I lead us through the crowd to the back entrance. A wide patio is attached to the back of the club, and couples are scattered around in different levels of engagement. I don’t linger, walking through them and going down the wide staircase to the beach below.

  Stuart is right behind me, and the closeness of this man sends waves of desire crashing through my insides. I have to fight it.

  “It’s warm tonight,” I say, pausing to slip off my booties.

  “Can I help you with those?”

  Shaking my head, I walk straight to the water. It’s breaking in small waves tonight, sending little ripples of briny sand between my toes.

  “So you’re here with Pete?” I can’t tell if that’s jealousy in his voice, but I decide not to notice.

  “He’s easy.” My voice is quiet. “Safe.”

  “Since when do you like safe and easy?” The taunting in his voice makes me want to cry. I can’t do this with him. Not after everything.

  “What do you want, Stuart?”

  “The same thing I’ve always wanted. You.”

  Another wave of emotion crashes in my chest. “No.” Shaking my head, I turn to the side. “I can’t hear that from you. You left me when I needed you. I reached for you, and you weren’t there.”

  Stepping forward, he catches my hand, pulling me to his chest. “You were so hurt. I felt like seeing me hurt you more.”

  I push him away. “You blamed me. You went away because you were
angry with me for what happened. Be honest. You went away to hurt me.”

  His chin drops, and I watch the line of his jaw move. “I was angry.”

  “I knew it!” I shout, turning to walk away, but he grabs my arm, stopping me.

  “But not at you.” The pain in his eyes expands, and I see my torment reflected there. “I was angry with myself. I didn’t protect you when you needed me, and I couldn’t forgive myself for letting you be hurt. I love you, Mariska. You’re my gypsy. You’re my wife.”

  I shake my head, pulling away. “I’m not your wife. I’m not your anything. I never was.”

  He looks down, and I watch as he runs a hand over his stomach. “To me you’re everything.”

  “No.” Shaking my head, I cover my ears with my hands. “I only wanted a family. I wanted one so badly, I was ready to believe anything to make it real. I was young and stupid.”

  “No you weren’t. You’re mine.” His strong arms surround me, pulling me to his body. “We can’t go from what we had to this. It’s not possible. You came in and changed my life. You changed everything. Every day you’re in my mind. I can’t shake you no matter how hard I work, no matter how hard I punish myself.”

  “Stop…” My insides ache. Every word he says is a firebrand to my chest. “You don’t know what I know. When those things happened, you thought I had a gift. You thought I had special knowledge, but I don’t. I’m not special. I’m sick, and I’m meeting with a doctor tomorrow to find out how much.”

  Stuart’s face darkens, and his brow lowers. “What do you mean you’re sick? What’s wrong?”

  I’m so ashamed of the truth. I don’t know how to say it to him. Still, I have to tell him everything so he’ll see what I know—that I’m wrong for him, and he has to let me go.

  “When I was a child, I had a virus. It affected my brain…” My voice trails off, but Stuart holds me in that intense gaze.

  “And?” he orders, and I hear an edge in his tone. “What does that mean?”

  “I was diagnosed schizophrenic.” My chin drops as my insides collapse. “My grandmother took me away from the hospital and kept me at home with her. She said I had a gift, and she changed the diagnosis into some kind of spiritual thing.”

  “You think that’s why you have your dreams?”

  “I know that’s why I have them. What I don’t know is how much of it is real, and how much of it is a delusion, a break in my mind.”

  My cheeks are coated with tears, and I want to go. He won’t let me. He holds me tighter against his chest, cupping his hands on each side of my face, and wiping my tears away with his thumbs.

  “I don’t care.” His voice is thick. “If you’re sick, we’ll get you a doctor. They have medicines—”

  “If I’m sick, it changes everything.” Pushing back, I put space between us. “I’ll never be able to have a family. I won’t take that kind of risk.”

  “You’re still the woman of my dreams.” He reaches for my hand, but I move it away. “I believe in us, Mariska. I believe in you. You saved me from a life that was killing me. Come home with me. I’ll take care of you.”

  Shuddering a breath, I turn my face. “Please leave me alone, Stuart.” My insides hurt so badly. I’m so close to giving in to him, but I can’t. I have to find answers. “I need you to leave me alone.”

  “Okay.” His arms drop, and he steps back. “I’ll leave you alone.” I exhale a breath, my eyes heating as gratitude mixes with the emptiness in my chest. “But I won’t leave without you. When I go, I take you with me.”

  My brow lines. “What do you mean?”

  He reaches out to touch my cheek. “I’ll be in Princeton at the condo. When you’re ready, I’ll be waiting to come and get you.”

  A flame kindles in my heart at his words. I have to find the answers to my past. I can’t go forward or build a life until I know the truth about myself. Still, as much as I want to fight him, I can’t ignore the inner shift I feel. He’ll wait for me. Those four words give me the strength I need to make this journey. The strength to believe I might come out on the other side. I might survive this.

  Answers

  Stuart

  Standing at the edge of the ocean under the light of a full moon, I watch her walk away from me, back inside the club to where that douche Pete waits for her. She’s so utterly beautiful, so changed since the last time I saw her.

  Before, she was golden and ethereal. She was bewitching and elusive with her long, wavy hair and endless jewelry. Now she’s elegant and controlled. Her black dress hugs her slim body, and her short hair blows in straight lines around her neck. Her walls are strong, and she’s fighting. Still, I could feel the heat simmering just below the surface. My passionate Mariska is still inside this guarded woman.

  When she reaches the steps, my eyes trace the length of her smooth legs as she reaches down to put on her boots. She straightens and jogs up to the porch, disappearing inside. Only then do I follow her into the noisy club. I hate places like this. If Derek hadn’t told me she would be here, I’d never have come, but I had to find her.

  Two days ago, when I went back to the condo in Princeton, everything came crashing down, and I felt just how much we had lost. It all happened so fast in Montana, from the good news to the tragedy. We lost sight of how much we had.

  When I walked through the door, I was greeted by a vase of wildflowers with a list of all the things Mariska needed to do to get ready for this fall. We needed to pack and move her stuff from Bayville to Princeton. She had to collect all her paintings and decide which sketches were appropriate and which should be hidden.

  When I saw that line item, a broken laugh escaped on an exhale. I remembered her cute little face, her golden eyes so intense as she peeked out at my naked body from behind a sketchpad. Her long waves would be twirled up around a pencil as she drew me from all angles. I’d see her cheeks pink, and I would catch her toe and nip it or trace a finger up the inside of her thigh to watch the chill bumps rise.

  I remembered how when she worked on her art, she usually had a smudge of charcoal on her nose or a streak of paint on her cheek. I remembered how she would walk through the room in only those fucking boy shorts to drive me crazy.

  We’ve been through hell, but I won’t let her go. Mariska is the mother of my children. We lost one. It was tragic and heartbreaking, and I can’t forgive myself for the way I reacted. At the same time, I won’t lose her over it. We will survive this, and we will come out stronger because of it.

  Then Derek told me where she’d be tonight. Slayde had mentioned she was with him and Kenny, and I had to come here. Even if she walked away, I had to see her.

  Now I’ve said all the things I needed to say. I’ve also seen what I needed to see in her eyes. I saw the desperate pain I feel reflected back at me, and I felt her struggling not to give in. My beautiful girl is fighting me, but she’s not going to win. We belong together, and she believes it as much as I do.

  This suggestion of schizophrenia is complete and utter bullshit. Some quack doctor gave her grandmother a faulty diagnosis, which the woman was smart enough to ignore. I don’t understand why Mariska believes it. Still, if Slayde is helping her find the truth, I can give her time to realize what I already know. She’s unique and flawless.

  She might decide she doesn’t have special gifts, but I’ll never forget the dream I had of her all those nights ago when I was trying to run, trying to get back to the desert. She saved me, and I won’t let her forget it.

  I’m turning over these thoughts in my office when Slayde knocks on the open door.

  “Hey, come in.” I sit forward in my chair, and he crosses to the desk. “What’s up?”

  “Our appointment with Dr. Endicott is at two this afternoon.” He sits in a leather chair. He’s a good man, and he’s on our side, which makes me like him even more.

  “What is she hoping to find out?” My hands are clasped in front of me, and I watch him closely.

  “Kenny said s
he wants answers. She wants to know if he believes he was right all that time ago or if he has any doubts. She’s worried stress or even the pregnancy might cause a sudden or unexpected break.” He leans forward resting his forearms on his knees. “I think she feels out of control.”

  “Understandable.” I look down at my hands. “It makes sense for her to feel that way. But she’s not mentally ill.”

  “Kenny and I feel the same way. Kenny’s worried. Hell, I’m worried about her.”

  He looks down, rubbing a hand up and down the ink on his forearm. Slayde was a fighter before he got into trouble and came here. Tattoos cover his arms and neck, and his pale blue eyes burn with intensity under his dark brow. He reminds me of a wolf.

  “What can I do?” I’m ready to do anything to protect my girl. I won’t let her down this time.

  He stands, going to the door. “I’ll be there. If things seem to be headed in the wrong direction, I’ll do what I can.”

  “I appreciate you looking out for her.” My chest burns with frustration at having to sit by helpless, waiting. “If I could be there, I would.”

  “I know.” He pauses. “I’ve tried to imagine the shoe being on the other foot, and I can’t. I’ll keep you posted.”

  * * *

  Mariska

  Slayde is punctual in picking me up for our appointment. I’ve been at the gym all day, cleaning up, making smoothies, and being completely distracted by what’s coming.

  “I had a great time last night.” Pete stops in front of me at the juice bar, spreading his arms and flexing his muscles for my benefit.

  I smile and turn to my notebook. “I’m sorry I pooped out early. I don’t seem to have as much energy as I used to.”

  “No worries.” He gives me a wink. “We can give it another try. Maybe Friday?”

  Poor Pete. I’ve had this thought so many times. As much as I try to make myself fall for him, like wet kindling, my feelings never seem to ignite. “I don’t know. Let’s just play it by ear.”