Bent not Broken

by Lisa De Jong

  “Jess,” he says. “Come home.” It’s a quiet plea. “I need you with me in California.”

  “So much has changed,” I say. “I’ve pushed everyone I care about out of my life: you, Ava, Mom, and Dad. I’m almost embarrassed to go home.” Sitting up, he looks down at me as I fling my arm over my eyes to hide the tears rolling down my temples and into my hair.

  “Everyone misses you and wants you to come home, not just me,” he says.

  “I know,” I whisper. “I’m just not sure I’m ready yet.”

  “Will you ever be ready? Or will I be waiting forever?” he asks quietly.

  “I don’t know,” I tell him through my tears and in a shaky voice. The look on his face is desperation, and sadness. The damage I’ve caused is heartbreaking, and I hate myself for it. The rest of the evening is filled with moments of awkward silence. We’re tiptoeing around the delicate subject of “us.”

  “What time do you have to leave tomorrow?” I ask him as we sit on the living room floor, picking at our Thai take-out.

  “Eight o’clock. I have to drive back to Charlotte and return the rental car before my two o’clock flight,” he says, pushing his food back and forth across his plate.

  “Gabe?” I say quietly. Reaching out, I place my hand on his arm, stilling him. Looking at my hand, he drops his fork and places his other hand over mine, but he won’t look at me.

  “I’m really happy you’re here,” I say.

  “Me too.” He squeezes my hand.

  I don’t sleep for all but ten minutes over the course of the night. I toss and turn and watch the minutes tick away on the alarm clock that sits on the bedside nightstand. Finally, around seven in the morning, I pull myself out of bed and take a quick shower. Putting his fire department t-shirt back on, I pull on some clean yoga pants and head downstairs to make coffee. By the time my feet hit the second stair on my way down, I see him. There he sits on the loveseat with his already packed bag lying on the floor. He’s staring at the wall, deep in thought.

  “Hey,” I say.

  “Hey.” He turns toward me and responds with a half smile.

  He looks as bad as I feel. The dark circles under his eyes are even darker. He looks exhausted. Sitting down on the loveseat next to him, I run my hand over his unshaven face, stopping to run my thumb over his lower lip. His hand stops mine and pulls it away from his mouth.

  “When did you get this?” he asks, running his finger across my barely healed tattoo on my inner left wrist. “I noticed it yesterday, but forgot to ask,” he says.

  “Last week.”

  “What does it mean?” he asks, tracing each letter of the script that is barely visible against my skin.

  “Unbreakable,” I whisper.

  “Unbreakable,” he whispers back, running his fingers back and forth, over and over again across my wrist.

  “I finally decided that I can’t let circumstances or events that I have no control over break me,” I offer. “No better reminder than to have it front and center every day where I have to see it and can’t forget it,” I explain. A small smile crosses his face, and he pulls my inner wrist to his lips. He closes his eyes and gently presses small kisses along my wrist and over the tattoo.

  “I have to go.” His voice breaks. Clearing his throat, he stands up, still holding my hand. He pulls me into a hug and I wrap myself around him.

  “I love you,” I whisper in his ear. “Thank you for finding me.”

  “I love you too. God, you have no idea how much I love you.”

  Pulling away from me, he saunters over to his bag, picks it up, and turns back to me. “I will wait for you. When you are ready to come home, I’ll be there. I will always wait for you.” And that’s when I knew there is no one in this world for me other than Gabe Garcia.

  Chapter 43

  Landon

  “Turn down Beach Avenue,” I direct Matt as I do every shift we work. Driving past her condo has become a ritual for me when we’re on duty.

  “Have you talked to her?” Matt asks, his voice masked with sympathy.

  “Nope,” I reply abruptly. “Only two more days of you driving my sorry ass past her place,” I reply quietly. “She’s moving back to California.” The patrol car is silent except for the radio broadcasting calls. Matt has turned the volume so far down, that it’s almost inaudible.

  “Sorry, brother,” Matt says.

  “It’s okay. It’s what’s best for her.” Saying those words, even thinking them, is fucking killing me. I keep my attention focused out my window, trying to not get emotional. “She was different,” I say, turning my head to look at Matt.

  “I know,” he says, nodding his head in agreement. “I’ve never seen you like this over any woman. She has to be something. I really am sorry.”

  “Thanks,” I reply, knowing he’s right. I fuck women. I use them and dispose of them. I don’t care about their feelings, and I certainly don’t fall in love with them. Until Jess.

  “You need to say goodbye to her, man. Don’t let her leave without talking to her,” he says. I listen to him and take his words to heart, but I don’t know if I can stomach seeing her. I don’t let people in, and she is in a place I didn’t know existed.

  “Yeah, we’ll see.”

  “Do it, man,” he tells me.

  “Let’s go eat. I’m starving,” I say, changing the subject and taking my mind off of the one thing that has consumed my every thought for the last three months.

  ****

  “Hey, big brother,” Lindsay announces as she rounds the corner into the kitchen. I’m sitting at the small table, drinking coffee and reading the latest Sports Illustrated.

  “Hey, little sister,” I respond. “You look nice,” I say, looking at her in a little black dress with knee high black leather boots on. Pouring herself a mug of coffee, she joins me at the kitchen table.

  “Thanks. We’re all taking Jess to lunch for her last day,” she says quietly, looking down at her mug and blowing the steam off of the coffee. “You should meet us,” she says timidly, awaiting my normal tense reaction.

  “Nah. Have a great time, though. You really do look nice,” I say, laying the magazine on the table and taking my mug of coffee with me to the living room.

  “Just call her, Landon. Text her. Say goodbye to her. Neither of you will talk to me about each other. I’ve never seen you like this,” Lindsay pleads with me, her voice becoming fainter the further away I walk. My throat dries up, and I swallow hard. I’ve honestly never felt like this. All of these emotions are new to me as well.

  “We’ll see,” I toss back over my shoulder.

  I’ve only ever dealt with losing one person I cared about: my mom. I vowed to never let a woman into my heart to the point where I’d get hurt, but I did. My gut tells me to just let her go, but my heart tells me to say goodbye. The decision is simple really; I only ever listen to my gut, but fuck if my heart isn’t trying to win this battle.

  Chapter 44

  Jess

  Shoving the last suitcase into the back of my SUV, I slam the door and pray I can still see through the rearview mirror out my back window. Kevin is shipping a few boxes back to me in California that won’t fit in my car. Walking up the sidewalk, into the condo to get my purse and lock up, I can’t help but remember what it felt like to walk this same sidewalk three months ago. What a different person I was then. A shell of what I am now.

  I have grown immensely, moving across the country for an internship, meeting some of the greatest friends I know I’ll ever have, and for the therapy that has helped me forge a path to healing. I know I have a long way to go, but I feel hopeful for my future. I know that my leaving California, on the terms I did, was selfish, and I hurt many people. I’m ready to make amends, but I won’t regret my time here in Wilmington.

  Taking one last look around this beautiful condo, I can’t help but wonder what everyone will think when I show up in California. No one knows I’m coming, not even Dad. Gabe and I text
and talk daily, working to repair the damage I did by shutting him out, but I needed to make the decision to move home on my own accord. This is about me, not Gabe.

  Locking the door to the condo, I place the key under the doormat as Kevin has instructed me. Holding the key to my SUV in my hand, I take one last look at the amazing beach that lies straight ahead. I will miss the sounds and smells of the ocean. It’s become a needed form of therapy for me, to sit on the soft sands of its beaches, and just think.

  My heart stops when I see him, leaning against the side of my car. Wearing dark jeans and a tight white t-shirt, his sandy brown hair is messy, and a five o’clock shadow outlines every ridge of this jaw. I can’t help but smile when I hear that sweet Southern accent drawl out, “Hey, baby girl.”

  My pace quickens until I’m standing right in front of him. “What are you doing here?” My pulse is racing.

  “Wasn’t going to let you leave without saying goodbye.” He smiles at me with his perfect mouth. Reaching out, he pulls me into a firm hug. I will never forget his smell; light, masculine, and comforting. We stand, hugging each other for at least a minute. I can feel his heartbeat against my chest. Finally pulling back, I look into his beautiful blue eyes.

  “Thank you for calling Gabe,” I say, my voice finally breaking and tears spilling out from my eyes. “You were right, you know.”

  “I’m always right, baby girl,” he says with a chuckle, wiping the tears from under my eyes with the pads of his thumbs. “I should be thanking you,” he says with his eyes focused intently on mine. “I didn’t know I had the capacity to feel love for anyone, and somehow, you broke down those walls that were barricading my heart. So, thank you.”

  “FFLs?” I ask him.

  “FFLs? What the hell is that?” he asks me, laughing.

  “Friends for life,” I say.

  “Always. FFLs.”

  “Oh, and hey,” I raise my left arm and flash him my inner wrist. “It means ‘unbreakable.’”

  Grabbing my wrist, he presses his lips to the white script tattoo just like Gabe did. Slowly releasing my hand, he moves to open my car door, waiting for me to step in. I toss my purse over to the passenger side seat and he moves closer so that he can close the door after I get inside. Before I sit down, he wraps his large hand around my upper arm, pulling me toward him. Standing there, just inches from him again, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to my forehead.

  “Bye,” I whisper as I pull away from him and get into my car. With a nod, he closes my door. Backing out of my parking spot, I roll down my window.

  “Take care of Linds for me.”

  “Always have, always will, baby girl. Be safe.” He forces a smile. Memories of Landon will be etched in my heart forever. I will cherish his honesty, trust, and friendship for the rest of my life. With a raised hand, he mouths “bye” to me, and I leave him standing next to his motorcycle, beginning my three-day drive back to California.

  ****

  Time stands still as I make that last turn onto Lawson Street, the street where I grew up between two different homes. Dad’s truck is gone, which means he’s at the fire station—shocker. At this hour, I will go unnoticed. It’s after midnight, so I grab just my purse and small bag with clothes and toiletries. Checking the hanging planter for the house key, I find it exactly where it was left. Some things never change.

  Letting myself into the house, I take in the surroundings that I left just over three months ago. Everything seems different here. I feel older, like I’ve been gone much longer. Finding my way down the short hallway in the dark, I open my door to find my bedroom untouched from when I left. Throwing my purse on the white wooden desk, I quickly shower and change into my pajamas. I want to get a few hours of sleep before I drive to the fire station to see my dad.

  Waking at six, I actually feel refreshed. Even with a few hours of sleep, I’m excited to go announce my arrival back in California. I pull a short cream dress from my closet that has eyelet cutouts around the neck and sleeve line. Putting the finishing touches on my make-up, I’m out of the house before seven.

  My heart is racing, and adrenaline is running through my body, not because I’m nervous to see Dad or Gabe, but because of the stop I need to make first. Driving back from California, I decided this was something I needed to do for me and my healing. I must face my fears and forgive, let go.

  When I pull into the small gravel parking lot at Washington Park, the sun is up, casting its bright rays on the green park. Walking the path I used to run, I clutch my phone and car keys in my hand while passing women and men running, just as I did that day. Winding through the park on the paved trail, I find the spot where my life changed so suddenly. No one is around this morning—the irony.

  Sitting down on the grass at the edge of the creek where it meets the water and cattails, I finally let go. I lie down in the grass and the tears slide from the corner of my eyes at the same time that I let go of the hatred, the fear, and the anger. I let go of the anxiety that has suffocated me for more than six months. I finally forgive my attacker, not because he deserves it, but because continuing to harbor the anger, the hurt, and the fear isn’t allowing me to heal—and I’m ready to heal. I know that this is one small step in my healing, and I still have a long road ahead of me. Taking in a deep breath for what feels like the first time since I was lying here nearly six months ago, I feel like I can breathe. I let hope take over that place in my heart where I harbored anger, hatred, and resentment.

  Sitting up, I wipe away my tears away with the back of my hand and toss a small rock into the creek that my feet are almost touching. I’m ready to get my life back and ask forgiveness of those I hurt in my attempts to heal. I’m not running anymore. Dr. Peterson would be so proud. I take a picture of myself sitting on the bank of this creek, and I plan to text it to her. Collecting myself, I stand and feel lighter. It is truly amazing the weight that anger and resentment has on a person. I walk quickly to my car. I’m excited and hopeful, and surprisingly, at peace.

  Pulling into the fire station, I drive around to the back and punch in the gate code that I’m glad I still have memorized. I pull through the metal gate as it slides open, and find an empty spot in the back and pull in. One of the large stall doors is open, and I see the ladder truck inside with boots and pants lying on the floor next to it.

  Walking toward the open door, I see him standing there, talking on his cell phone. He looks like he’s aged in the three months since I’ve seen him. His hair is a little grayer, and a few more wrinkles have crept in around his eyes. When he looks up and spots me, a smile crosses his face. He begins walking towards me as he stuffs his phone in his pocket.

  “Hi, Dad,” I say as we approach each other.

  “Jessie, what are you doing here?” he asks, lifting me off the ground and into a giant bear hug.

  “I’m home,” I respond, squeezing him back.

  “You look good, kiddo,” he says, and I notice his misty eyes.

  “Thanks. It’s good to be home.” Pulling back from him, I study his face, remembering the resentment and anger I left at the creek. I know he did the best he could, raising a daughter alone while grieving the loss of my mom.

  “There’s someone inside who I think would be really happy to see you.”

  “Yeah, I figured,” I say, excited to see him.

  Jackson, another one of Dad’s crewmembers is standing in the open stall near the fire truck and happens to holler, “Hey, Garcia. There’s someone here you might want to see.”

  My heart races at the anticipation of seeing him. I sense him before I see him; I always have. From around the dark corner, he steps out of the bay and into the sun shining down on the driveway. Looking at me, he shifts his eyes to my dad and then back to me. He stops momentarily. With a quick walk, his pace picks up, and I start running towards him at the same time. Jumping into his arms as I meet him, I wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist, not even caring that my short dress has probably
exposed my ass.

  “Jess,” he whispers, spinning me around. “What are you doing here?” he asks in shock. Setting me down, I lean in and press a kiss to his lips.

  “I’m home,” I say, watching a smile spread across his face. He pulls me into another hug and spins me around again.

  “You’re not going back to North Carolina?” he asks hesitantly, searching my eyes for answers my mouth hasn’t been able to provide every other time he’s asked me. Shaking my head no, I let the words he’s wanted to hear fall from my lips.

  “I’m home for good—if you still want me here.”

  Chapter 45

  Gabe

  The expression “It looks like you’ve seen a ghost” couldn’t have been truer the moment I stepped out onto the back driveway. Jess was standing there with her dad, a huge smile spread across her face. I wasn’t expecting her to be anywhere other than North Carolina. I second-guessed what my eyes were seeing at that moment. She was beautiful, wearing a dress, her long legs peeking out from underneath it, and her long dark hair blowing slightly in the morning breeze. But what stopped my heart was the sense of tranquility on her face and the genuine smile I was used to seeing there.

  Walking towards her, my mind was filled with thoughts of why she was here. I couldn’t help but wonder if she was here to collect the remaining items she left behind the first time she left for North Carolina—to settle into her new life, and sever her ties here in California. But it was her smile that calmed me slightly as I walked faster towards her. I felt, for a fraction of a moment, that my Jess was back.

  It was when she jumped into my arms and wrapped her legs around me, the erratic beat of her heart against my chest, that my nerves turned into waves of adrenaline. But it was hearing her tell me that she was home that really allowed me to breathe for the first time in six months.

  “All I’ve wanted since you left was for you to come back. Don’t ever doubt that I don’t want you here.”