Bent not Broken

by Lisa De Jong

  “Mia, please, let’s be a family. Please don’t leave me. I promise I’ll do better.” He begged.

  Hope filled me. I would do anything to have a family. “Will you leave then? Will you stop working for Lou?” Searching his face, my spirits begin to lift. Maybe he’d finally leave it behind. If he loved us enough, he would, wouldn’t he?

  “Mia, I … I can’t do that right now.” He swallowed.

  Hurt and rage filled my every bone. Tilting my head, I studied him. “Why not? Don’t you love me? Don’t you want this to work? I can’t raise a child in this environment, Marcus! I won’t allow my baby to end up like you!” I didn’t mean to say it that way. I just wanted him to understand—understand why I wanted him to leave. I loved him so much, and I knew those words hurt him deeper than anything. The look on his face … It pained him to know what I thought of him.

  We didn’t say anything to each other for a long time. We just stared at one another, both of us breathing heavily. Lost, confused, anxious, and scared, I didn’t know what to say next. So instead I brushed past him with my suitcase, laid it on the bed, unzipped the lid, and began to throw my belongings in it.

  Trying to hold back my tears, I couldn’t. It was hard to see what I was doing through blurry vision. When I finally packed the last piece of fabric, I closed the suitcase. Anxiety overcame me, and I felt faint. Leaning against the bag, I sniffed and tried so desperately to calm my breathing. I grabbed the handle to the bag and turned around. Marcus was standing in the same spot, this time facing me, staring directly at me with those big, warm, sad, brown eyes. Tears slowly dripped down his cheek. Shocked to see this, startled by this reaction, I couldn’t move; I just stared at him.

  “I had to do it.” He finally spoke in a low husky tone. “It was either him or me.” I didn’t move or speak out of fear, shock, and curiosity. I allowed him to talk. “I walked into the warehouse, thinking it would be like any other day. Eager to get back home to you, I just wanted it to be over with. It was me and two other guys, Larry and Vinnie. They usually go with me on these jobs. It was a drug trade with a Chinese cartel.” He continued to talk, not moving or taking his eyes off of me. I sank down onto the edge of the bed, waiting nervously for what he would say next.

  “We’ve done plenty of business with them before. So it wasn’t anything new, same shit: we go in, make the trade, count the money, and seal the deal. Though this time, it was different. There was a new guy in their group. I found him suspicious the moment I saw him. I don’t like new people, especially in this line of work. You always have to be cautious, but I wanted to hurry the deal to get home. My guys began to unload the bags of drugs into the back of their truck. I watched everything that was going on, keeping my eyes on my guys, the truck, the other group, and the new guy who was eyeing me down.

  “I felt uneasy, so I focused more on him. He didn’t like that I was intensely paying extra attention to him. I watched as he whispered something to his boss. His boss narrowed his eyes at me, and I knew something was going to go down. I felt it. The boss made his way to me, standing only inches away. By this time my guys were attentive and were beside me, feeling the vibe as well. He asked me if I was a cop. I was completely shocked by this. I’ve previously done jobs with him. I told him no, and he asked me if I was wearing a wire. I lifted my shirt to show him I wasn’t. The new guy wasn’t convinced. He began to chant something in their language, and I grew irritated. So I made an offensive comment that he didn’t like.

  “Before I knew it, guns were drawn and shots were fired all over the place. My guys shot the other two men. The new guy had attacked me at that time. We wrestled, punched, and tackled each other until he reached for his gun. He pointed it at me. At that moment, I thought I was done. Your face was the only thing that came to my mind—that and the thought of leaving you behind, the thought of never being able to hold you again, to kiss you again. I didn’t want to go without a fight. So without thinking, I quickly punched him and reached for the gun and shot him in the head. It was him or me, and I chose me because of you.”

  I was speechless, listening to him and his story. He spoke in detail of the night, of the fact that he almost lost his life. My heart picked up its pace as I began to realize that I almost lost him. He was inches away from being gunned down and killed. He would have been the third man in my life that I loved so dearly to have been taken away from me. Fresh tears began to form in my eyes, and I wanted to hold him and let him know I wouldn’t go—let him know that I would stay no matter what.

  Though I wanted to reach out and comfort him, I pulled back because this was the main reason why I should go, why I should take my unborn child and run. It would hurt less to leave than to stay and wait up every night, wondering if he’d be home soon or if I’d get a call that he was dead. I shuddered at the thought. I wondered if I were brave enough to walk out of there even after his confession.

  Slowly rising from the bed, I grabbed the handle of the suitcase and began to walk towards him. When I was inches away from him, I reached up and touched his face. My thumb caressed his cheekbone. He looked so tired and defeated.

  Tracing my hand on the back of his neck, I pulled him down to me. His soft lips touched mine, and I gently kissed him. Tears streamed down my face as this would be our last kiss. He gently sighed at my embrace, but I pulled my head away. His eyes shot open, searching my face. “Goodbye, Marcus,” I whispered. His eyes filled with pain, and his breathing began to pick up.

  “No!” He yelled. Gripping my hips, he pulled me into him. “No, please don’t leave me, Mia. I need you. I can’t live without you. Please!” His arms were tightly wrapped around me. I couldn’t breathe. I tried to pull away, but he pulled me in tighter. “No! Please … Please … I can’t …” His voice broke. Then before I could pull away again, he began to sob. He buried his face into my neck. I could feel the moisture of his tears against my skin. It broke my heart to see and hear this strong, powerful, masculine man this vulnerable and broken.

  I began to sob with him, dropping the suitcase onto the ground. I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Please, Marcus, let me go. I love you so much, and this is hard enough …” I couldn’t finish. He tightened his arms around me like I would disappear any second.

  His head dug in deeper into the nape of my neck, and he sobbed, crying out for me not to leave. “Mia, please … you’re the reason for me living. You’re the reason I want to wake up every morning, and you’re the reason for my existence. Before you, I didn’t care if I was killed. I woke up every morning miserable, wondering why I was here. I was so close to taking my own life right before I met you because I thought I was useless. Then when I met you … You’re everything, Mia Without you, there’s no reason for me. Please.” He choked.

  Taking in everything that he just said, I closed my eyes as tightly as I could and squeezed my arms around him. He tried to kill himself before? If I leave and there’s no reason for him, does that mean he’ll try to again? The thought shattered my heart into a million pieces. A world without Marcus DeLuca wouldn’t be a world at all. He thought he was useless and therefore tried to take his own life. Oh, I wanted to make him feel okay. I wanted to take all the pain and misery away from him.

  He’d been through so much, and this was all he knew, but it wasn’t what I knew. Was I ready to deal with this? I loved him so much. At that moment, even though I knew I must protect our child, I would rather deal with the consequences of his second life than see him broken down and hurt.

  Lifting my head to face him, I cupped his face with my hands. His eyes were blood shot. His eyelids are swollen and wet. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, bringing his lips to mine. He was hesitant at first. I’m sure he was afraid that it was a goodbye kiss. My mouth slightly opened, allowing his tongue to slide in.

  He hungrily kissed me, tasting me and brought his hands to my face. Before I could deepen our kiss, he pulled back, looking into my eyes. “You’re not leaving me?” His tone was uneasy and shaky.
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  “No, baby, I’m not. I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  Letting out a long deep breath, he closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against mine. “Oh, Mia, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I fucking love you so much.” Reaching back for my lips, he didn’t move from them.

  Bending down, he gripped my thighs and lifted me, wrapping my legs around his waist. Not breaking from the kiss, he walked over while carrying me to the bed. My body sank into the soft mattress. He ripped off our clothes, and before I knew it we were both naked. He pressed his body against mine, and the warmth of his body sent shivers down my spine. He placed his elbows on either side of my face and dug his hands under my head. Bringing his head down, he began to trace long kisses all around my face: on my forehead, my eyes, my nose, my cheeks, down my jawline and my chin. He bestowed warm kisses on every inch of my face until he reached my lips.

  “I love you, Mia.” He mumbled against my lips.

  “I love you too, Marcus.” I moaned. Feeling him on me, his lips on mine, and his warm responsiveness, I was able to forget at that moment about everything and just allow him to take control. I gasped when he spread my legs with his thighs and filled me with his length. I wanted him as badly as he wanted me. He met my hips, and his every thrust was at the perfect rhythm and speed. He took his time, allowing us to enjoy each other, to savor this moment, not wanting this moment to disappear.

  Tracing his hand down my neck to my aching breast, he plucked and teased my nipples with his thumb. I moaned on his lips, and he wouldn’t take them away from mine. His hand continued to trace down to my belly, down my hip and along my thigh. He could touch me a thousand times, and each time I still felt the electricity of his touch as if it were the first time.

  Gripping my thighs, he lifted them and wrapped my legs around his waist. Allowing him to go deeper inside of me, I grunted at the sensation. He groaned, and the vibration of the tone trembled against my lips. Biting my bottom lip, he began to move at a slightly faster pace. Our bodies melded into one another, allowing all of the feelings of almost losing each other to be relieved the only way we knew how, by making love.

  Every emotion began to build, and my body trembled as I cried out his name and convulsed. Within a matter of seconds after I exploded, he did as well, groaning with relief.

  Panting, I threw my head back into the plush mattress and shut my eyes with satisfied pleasure. I felt a tear fall down my face. Though I wasn’t crying when I opened my eyes, Marcus was staring at me, his face seriously deep in thought with one drip mark down the right side of his cheek. Reaching up, I wiped the watermark off his precious cheek and leaned up to kiss him long and hard. He didn’t want to let go, and neither did I.

  The rest of the night we held each other tightly afraid that one or the other would walk away.

  ****

  “Ava.” Marcus whispered while tracing small circles around my belly button. He was slumped on his side as he held his head up with his hand. I lay flat on my back, watching him trace all sorts of objects on my belly with his finger. It was very early in the morning, and we hadn’t slept since he walked in at three this morning.

  Arching my brow, I wasn’t sure if I should be offended. “Huh?” I asked, wondering if he was calling me someone else’s name.

  Looking up, he gently smiled. “Ava Marie DeLuca if it’s a girl.” I couldn’t help but grin widely at him. The past three hours we made sweet love, kissed passionately, and held each other, but neither one of us had brought up our baby.

  “Ava? Hmm. I like it.” I said. “And if it’s a boy?” I asked curious as to the name; I had one in mind already.

  “A junior, of course.” He laughed. I raised my eyebrows. Don’t get me wrong I love Marcus’ name, but it wasn’t my first choice.

  Laughing at my expression, he said, “What? You don’t like my name? What did you have in mind?” He chuckled.

  “No, I love your name. I was just … Well …”

  He stopped his finger tracing and gently pressed the palm of his hand along my belly. His brows creased. “Go ahead, Mia. Tell me what name you have in mind.”

  “Michael Marcus DeLuca.” I never expected to have a child, ever, and I wasn’t that type of girl that already had her children’s names picked out before she even got married. Though, the moment I knew I was pregnant, I just knew if it was a boy that I wanted to name him after my brother.

  Marcus looked at me with gentle eyes, understanding the meaning behind the name I’d chosen. He smiled, lifting his head away from his hand and slowly lowered it to my belly. He gently traced small kisses there. I giggled with each brush of his lips on my ticklish skin. “I love it. Michael.” His lips stretched into a smile along my belly button when he said our unborn son’s name. I sighed in contentment.

  He laid his head against my stomach, and his eyes met mine. As an instant reaction, I ran my fingers through his thick hair. His eyes were half closed. He must’ve been exhausted. I know I was. I knew he’d make a great father; he grew up with such a loving and amazing family and home. He’s a wonderful uncle to Elle.

  Would I make a decent mother? I didn’t have anyone to pick up the traits from. At least Marcus was raised by his father until his teens. He always mentioned that his father made sure to put them first. I, on the other hand, didn’t have a mother. I wouldn’t know what a mother’s love and care felt like. I would never abandon my child.

  Marcus eyes widened, and I didn’t realize I was frowning until I noticed the concerned look on his face. “What’s wrong, Mia?” His tone was uneasy.

  “I … Well I was just thinking. I know you’ll be a really good dad. I was just wondering, will I make a half-decent mom?” That last part was spoken very low.

  Sitting up beside me, he leaned against the headboard. Wrapping his arm around my shoulder, he pulled me in till my head lay on his lap. Brushing his hand against the side of my face, he made my worries drift away.

  His touch was so comforting I was beginning to drift off into a deep sleep. Before falling asleep, the last thing I heard was, “You’re going to be one of the best mothers I know.” The smoothness of his voice allowed me to dream peacefully.

  Chapter Nineteen

  We slept in until late afternoon that Sunday, not wanting to leave each other’s side and exhausted from the vivid night. When we finally awoke, we had dinner in bed. Marcus ordered pizza, and we watched old eighties’ movies while cuddling. He also emailed his new assistant and told her that we wouldn’t be at work the next day. Marcus stayed up the rest of the night, searching for the best OB-GYN in Boston. He was beginning to get a little annoying. When I found one that I really liked, he would shoot him down if there was one bad review. When Marcus said no, the answer was no.

  I wanted to see Dr. Tracy Muller. She was known to be one of the top doctors in her field. There were numerous five-star reviews, but one previous patient gave her two stars, stating that when she was finally in labor, Dr. Muller was out of town. That review changed Marcus’ opinion very quickly. I pouted after a while when he didn’t allow me to pick one. I mean, after all, it is my body. I should feel comfortable with the doctor.

  After three hours of fussing, pouting, and a lot of disagreeing, we settled on Dr. Lee. He was after all the number-one ob-gyn in the entire state of Massachusetts with excellent credentials, background, and reviews. The only issue I had was that Dr. Lee is a male. I wasn’t sure how I would feel having another man exploring my personal … space. Marcus assured me that if I felt uncomfortable in any way, I could choose the next doctor, which put me at ease.

  First thing Monday morning, Marcus contacted Dr. Lee’s office, and after intense negotiations, we were scheduled for that evening. I truly thought Marcus wouldn’t be able to get us in as Dr. Lee was booked until next year! Then again this was Marcus DeLuca; he could be very persuasive and persistent when he wanted his way. Since we had the entire morning and half of the afternoon free, Marcus wanted to take me out for a day in town. He didn’t leave
my side, holding my hand, hugging me tight, and kissing me every chance he could. Although this was his regular routine, somehow today it seemed different.

  He made sure I ate well and consumed plenty of water throughout the day. When his phone rang, he ignored it. He gave me one-hundred-ten percent of his attention. At one point when we entered a store and I wandered off to a look at some clothing, he shouted my name around the aisles frantically. When he found me, he embraced me with a tight hug and kiss. It was as if he thought that I was going to run away the moment we were apart. I assured him I wasn’t going anywhere. He would just nod and slightly smile, but his eyes were filled with uncertainty.

  When we finally entered Dr. Lee’s office, I was in awe. The office was contemporary with high-end furniture and equipment. The entire building was extremely shiny and clean; I felt like I needed to take a sanitary shower before entering the building. Because of that, I added two points to my very own mental review. The super friendly staff and nurses made us feel welcome and comfortable, so I added another star. After meeting with Dr. Lee, I gave him a rank of five stars. I will never judge a male doctor again. He was gentle and made me feel comfortable throughout the entire process.

  Peanut is the nickname we decided to give our little one. At six-weeks that’s exactly what the image on the small black-and-white screen appeared as—a tiny peanut. Marcus couldn’t wipe the grin off his face as we walked out of the doctor’s office side by side with my arm wrapped around his waist and his one arm slung over my shoulder, holding the small picture of our peanut.

  “I can’t believe this little thing is our baby.” He said still mesmerized by the photo.