Shattered Love: Book one of the Forever us series

by Nivia Borell

  That superlative moment when her mouth formed the perfect “O” against my lips as I pierced her barrier, invaded her tightness, and expanded her could not even the best poets in the world write down. Claiming and marking her had a primal instinct show and settle in my core as I drank in her cries and coaxed her moans. I kissed her temples as she tilted her head and gave herself to me.

  “Afterward, I crashed on top of you and held you tightly in my arms assuring you of my everlasting love. I would never forget my eighteenth birthday.

  “Minutes passed as we cradled each other wiping the sweat off our foreheads, grinning like idiots. After we got dressed, I sheltered you between my arms and placed kisses over your heated and peachy face. Then my hand rushed to my pants and plucked out a two barn owls forming a heart and sitting on a branch filigree necklace. One with hazel eyes like yours and one with blue eyes like mine.”

  The dreamy expression on her face rocks me from within.

  “It was the ideal present to complete a perfect day full of meaning… your birthday, our second anniversary as a couple, and losing our virginity. Celebrating life and love, the past and the future, with the sun peeking through the leaves while we held each other…”

  She croaks and her shoulders sag. A groan flees my body as I fist the duvet. In our case, love has been shoved in the past when the present tears us apart, and the future annihilates every prospect for us. Whatever still bonds us is a mix of pain, regret, love, and hate—a poisonous life form sucking on our delusion.

  Neither of us dares to say a thing as we lay together an eerily quiet surrounding us, and miles beginning to yank us apart. Our erratic breaths pierce the tense silence cloaking us. I don’t regret a thing that happened last night and early this morning, but I know later today would be a different story with a different outcome. It has ruptured something inside me, but as the sun rises, it also lifts me out of my clouded desires. I am myself, and Bria is still my tormentor. Nothing has changed. The pretense is about to start again with renewed force. I let myself have one more thought before I allow darkness to chain me once again.

  I know for sure nothing will ever have the power to stop me from loving you, but I am a halved man, and I can’t expect you to make me whole again. I can’t let control slip again through your fragile fingers. You are incapable of holding us together because you, too, are broken, and I am not worthy of trying to put you together. I love you, Bria du Mont, my beloved stranger… my enemy.

  I stir first. But it is her who looks away and puts some physical distance between us. Her face cranes toward the wall of photos as her meek voice acknowledges, “Damien, our time is up.”

  We emerged from our trip down memory lane, so why are we lying in bed, a few inches apart, motionless once again but still with our fingers intertwined? Neither of us attempts to move, either to stay or to leave the other to misery.

  “Was it good for you, Bria? Was it worth your time to reminisce about all of it and have nothing left of it in the end?” I spit, my voice too gruff and venomous even to me.

  “I’m used to nothing these days, Damien, but I felt it… every memory, every feeling, every touch, every kiss. It was cathartic to feel something for a few hours… anything.”

  I can detect her desire to remain civil and for a clear breakup, to part ways like grown-ups, but I am done letting her have her way. Remembering everything has been too much. The beast in me growls in pain and rage, realizing we’ll never again have what we once had.

  It’s her fault.

  She’s doomed and snatched us from the chance of having the future we dreamed of.

  There’s no excuse for what I say next.

  I’m fully aware how she’ll receive them as the words of someone shackled to hate.

  Even so, it’s better for me if she believes I’m rejecting her out of disgust and not because of my cutting ache. In all these years, I’ve never felt so small and unsteady as I do now, a puppet on the strings of my charade of strength and control. My words hurt us both, but we can now drift apart, breaking a seven-year cycle or initiating a more painful one.

  “Well, good for you, Bria. I, on the other hand, feel only repulsion toward it and you.”

  She winces next to me, but it’s too late to back off. My monster springs to life as I tear my hand from hers as if burned. I’ve already lost her. She was preparing herself to leave me anyway, so better to end it for my benefit. Anything else would be foolish of me, so I keep it up.

  Hasn’t this been my plan from the start anyway? Why did I allow myself to forget who she is too and for me?

  “You revolt me. Your presence irritates me, and I hate you more than ever, Bria du Mont, more than I ever could have loved you. It consumes me, and I welcome it.” I toss my head back and laugh, and sounds of sarcasm dislodge from my being. “This night, you showed me again your true face. You are a cheater, a selfish person, and as cold as ice. The snakes would envy your cold blood.

  “Now, get the hell out, Bria. You are my greatest enemy, and I take my enemies apart. Don’t you ever forget it.”

  As she plods from the bed, I feel my heart splinter into a thousand pieces all scattered at her feet. I want to yell at her to pick them up because they are all for her. I have nothing left for myself as I crumble inside but keep spitting poison. “Thank you for the nice shag.” I’m such an idiot and a lying bastard. My gaze drops to her feet where my worth is, under her.

  With false cheer, I add, “But your wish has been granted. Tonight, even though it was a mistake, it needed to happen. It’s made me realize that, indeed, I love your cousin, and Monica will soon be my wife. It couldn’t please me more to marry the right one. I pause only to deliver the final blow. “Thank you, Bria. I hope you don’t mind I took the liberty to indulge with you this night as an early bachelor party. But even if you minded, it’s none of my concern.”

  Even with quaking lips and a face drained of color, she mouths, “Congratulations.”

  It takes all of me to restrain myself to the bed and not crawl to her. She dresses and shrieks when she can’t hook her nude lace bra the first time. Her dabbing her wayward hair is almost laughable if it hasn’t a certain tragic note on her chaotic moves. She stumbles on her heels, gasping. I hear the desperate desire of her lungs to grasp some air. Bria sets one hand against her chest while she yanks the door with the other. I plead for her not to look at me but just to spite me, her now dead eyes clash with mine and freeze me on the spot. I’m left with the wrenching echoes of her steps as she bolts down the stairs.

  Like an out-of-body experience, I put my clothes on after ending another heart-wrenching goodbye session with Bria. My hands ball into fists, and I holler.

  Out of the window I watch as Alexander pounces toward her.

  What fucking perfect timing.

  He upholds and carries her to his black Range Rover. The sound of the engine roaring to life invades my body intoxicating me with jealousy and clouding my vision. The tears run down my face. I slump to the floor with my hands gripping my hair and keep repeating as I rock myself, “I am sorry, my love.”

  When I regain a little control, I slog downstairs, my eyes downcast as my feet carry me down the stairway. I catch my parents gaping at me in disbelief. I’m sure it has everything to do with Bria’s rushed and disheveled departure and with my open shirt, unbuttoned jeans, and ruffled rolled-up sleeves. My hair must look like a crow’s nest, and my face a picture of demolition. I hoist my hand and crack them. “Don’t. This night never happened, and you saw nothing.”

  I slump to the bar and grab a bottle of the Macallan Rare Cask Black Edition. I don’t ask my father’s permission but make a mental note to replace it for him the moment I feel less rammed by a train. My pain deserves a treat with a refined taste. As I’m about to withdraw, I add, “I’ll be indisposed for the day.”

  I haul myself back to my room which still smells of her. I pick up her pillow and howl in it. Afterward, I jerk the bottle to my mouth and gulp it dow
n aching for the burn.

  I think as I let the distinctive taste of smoky, nutty, and honey alcohol burn my throat while my head thrashes back and forth. “You’ve done it once again, Bria. You make out of me a desperate and devastated fool living in the past because there you were, and even after everything, I still can’t find it in me to remove you. What an overwhelming load I have to carry, not having you but wanting you, and not in the present but the past. To you my beautiful destruction. To another round of you slicing me.”

  DAMIEN

  In the year following the night Bria and I spent together, I merged into a monk and a recluse. I set myself for one thing—work. I work every day until exhaustion overtakes me, sleeping more nights in my office than in my condo. I have pursued no women, fucked no one. I haven’t even attended social events that required my presence any longer, just family dinners and parties hoping to see her, but she is never there—not even when I summon the Board for a meeting to coerce her out of her lockdown, does she show. I tighten my jaw and accept her lack of presence and decision to stay away even though it whacks me every time.

  Meanwhile, I continue planning my so-called engagement and wedding to Monica. I can’t bail, anyway.

  Katherine always makes excuses for why her daughter isn’t present. There is a new excuse every time ranging from previously-made plans of going on a trip with Alexander, or she’s in New York to visit Quinn, then to a bad cold she caught or to an overdue project I’m not aware of that wasn’t done yet. How could I since it is a big, fat, lie? This charade lasts until no one questions why she isn’t coming anymore. It’s not the first time. We take it as it is and do what we know best—pretend. And every time I fly to Zürich, more often than it’s good for my sanity, hoping to catch a glimpse of her or even hear her melodious voice, I have to bury my disappointment and yearning. I snap and snarl most of the time. They all either ignore my state, rush out of my sight, or put it to nervousness due to the impending wedding—my so-called doom night on the fifth of November.

  Only Sophia sees right through my moods. One evening at another family gathering where Bria isn’t present, shocking I know, she grips my arm and leads me to a quiet corner as I bite a snarl every time I hear glass clinking and laughter around me. With every passing day, the green monster in me wants to lurch out.

  “You’re not right, Damien, and it has nothing to do with your wedding, which I think is the dumbest thing you’ve ever done, and I’ve seen some pretty bad things from you, but you have to quit it.”

  Her sky-blue eyes flash with worry burrowing within me. I gulp the rest of my drink as her perfect symmetrical forehead creases.

  “It’s too late. This is why you dragged me here, Soph? To berate me about my wedding?”

  “Actually, no. Another issue is more pressing right now. Something’s not right, brother, and you know it, too.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  She raises her eyebrows, and I know she’s well aware I am playing dumb, but she purses her lips as she sucks in a breath. “I am talking about your so-called arch enemy who stopped seeing all of us after her birthday, eight months ago. I can feel deep in my core things are not what they seem. Something is wrong. Let me tell you I observe her every day locked in her office, becoming paler and weaker but working harder. She acts like a robot, Damien, lifeless, the same numb facial expression for days in a row plastered on her face, it makes my hairs stand up. I can’t get through to her because she keeps reiterating she’s fine. Let me guarantee if you would just see her, you would admit I’m right.”

  “Are you out of your mind to talk to me about her? Well, I don’t give a damn, Soph. She can do whatever she pleases. It’s none of my business.”

  She pinches me on my stomach as I flinch and pierce her with a look.

  “I am your sister, you obtuse moron. You can’t fool me. But when everything goes to hell, don’t say I didn’t warn you. At least in the beginning, she was trying, Damien. Now, it seems like she estranges herself on purpose. Call the sham of your wedding off. I know you’ve loved only one woman, and I don’t recognize either the look in your eyes or the signs of a love-struck man.”

  I scratch the nape of my neck and ask, “Why do you still care, Sophia?”

  My sister rolls her eyes and mutters, “One of us has to. She made a mistake, a great one, seven years ago, and I don’t deny it. But she shouldn’t be treated in some ways like she’s still a member of this family but in other ways like an outcast. No one can hold her above her mistake, and to make things worse, you support their behavior as if you think you are entitled. Enough is enough, Damien. Not even her parents can do it, and Filip acts like he lost his sister long ago. Worse, I talk to him about things your brain would screech at, Damien, and he’s fine, but the moment Bria pops up, he freezes and changes the subject.”

  She tilts her head, and her penetrating stare scans me. I answer her in what I hope to be my most unfazed voice possible. “Well, she found her replacement family, Soph, so everything is all right. Or do you think it’s easy for Katherine and George to see two strangers have replaced them? Like everyone else here, they’ve found a way to cope with it. So, don’t accuse any of us because she made her choices long ago.”

  Sophia shakes her head and then snatches a strand of her raven black hair stuck to her glossy lips. My sister and her theatrics as her eyes roam over me. In her last attempt to goad me, she adds, “You are so obstinate. I can’t get through to her, Damien, but you might. She works herself practically to death, and in her little spare time, she is either with that Alexander or his father. Bria uses them as a shield to keep us out, and you are just too blind to see it.”

  A long breath flees her. Soph blinks at me as she clings to my arm. “Have it your way, Damien. I’m out of this charade.” Irony dripping from her tongue. “And say hello to your intended one for me.”

  With her message delivered, she swirls on her heels and leaves me standing there with my heart in the gutter as the two halves of me fight with each other over the same woman once again. Pain throbs behind my eyelids as I massage my temples. What if my sister is right, that I had buried my head in the sand pretending everything is as usual.

  I will never have in me the power or desire to forgive myself for not listening.

  ALEXANDER

  Present day…

  I cross-examine as I stretch my neck toward Damien sunk on the barstool, what do I wish to achieve by disclosing a very intimate recollection of my part of the story of Bria. I swallow the flaming amber liquid down and stride behind the bar to grab a bottle of water and groan with satisfaction as the cold liquid erases the traces of the alcohol away. I place a large bill on the bar to compensate the bartender, who hasn’t shown his boyish face for a while now, leaving me alone in the same room with the one person I would risk my freedom to annihilate. Even now, he scrutinizes me trying for a smug, lopsided grin as he raises an eyebrow at the bottle of water in my hand.

  “Get your own.”

  “I thought you were nicer, Alexander.”

  His whole face lights up every time he gets to me as I flare my nostrils. Behind his refined custom-made Italian suits and brash appearance, he is a prick, and I shake my head not understanding why my sweet Bria has given him the power to smash her very essence. The bottle cracks in my hand as I toss it on the bar. I prop my elbow on the cold surface as Damien shifts to regale me with his full attention. Face to face, I can detect his attempt to keep the pretense up—that his eyes are not sagging or how he forces his shoulders to stay erect or the flexing muscles on his jaw every time he observes his leg trying to jar.

  It irks me the way he scopes me as I do my best to do the same. Meanwhile, I have to bury the desperate ache to go to Bria and refrain her from departing. But I will keep my promise I made to myself for the sake of my mental stability and will rise above everything life throws at me.

  After tonight, I will let her go. My fist slams on the solid bar as I keep asking why isn�
��t anything and anyone enough to make her want to get better? I tried my damn best, and still, here I am at the charade of her twenty-fifth birthday entertaining my animosity with Damien du Sky. I itch to punish him, for him to burn in the depths of hell and put the process on repeat. It will come. I will see to it. He’s cost me Bria, and I will take my pound of flesh in the form of his sanity. His forehead creases, eyes drilling into me.

  “Shall we continue?”

  “Be my guest, Alexander.”

  “You will bleed.”

  “Do your best.”

  His eyes narrow as his wired frame coaxes me into retaliation. He is a lunatic after all. Does it surprise me? Not in the slightest.

  “I blame myself for falling asleep. I didn’t realize I was spent until I woke up in the morning with my head sprawled on my laptop and my neck stiff as a board. I jumped up and peeked into Bria’s room. She wasn’t there. I searched for her everywhere. I dialed her number repeatedly but my calls went to her voicemail. By then, alarms went off in my head. I grabbed my car keys and prayed she would still be at your parents’ house.

  “She would never discuss what happened on the night of her twenty-fourth birthday, not with my father or me. But afterward, I could witness I had lost Bria completely to numbness. Every hope I’d had to save her vanished. With every month, I had to acknowledge she was no longer salvageable. Her presence was the only reminder she was still among us. It was maddening watching her roaming around the flat. The exhaustion over the fact she had to compute in her the will to wake up in the mornings and go to work to maintain the illusion she is not an ill woman worsened her state. It slashed me to see her draining herself with her persistence of not getting treatment. I think back to when I instigated a fight with her as I couldn’t understand why she wasn’t already gone, why she wanted to achieve anymore other than giving me a mental disorder? She waved me off and shut the door behind her. Have you any clue what it’s like not to be able to help a person in evident pain because she vehemently refuses it? She would have been a damn martyr if she chose some noble mission to save the world or anything else besides bringing herself down.”