What's Left of Me (Finally Unbroken Book 2)

by Maria Macdonald

  “Dammit,” I whisper to myself.

  The more time I spend with this man, the more I realize it’s like he’s been created just for me. Every part of him specifically picked to suit my needs and wants. That also means, though, knowing how much he’s been through, and that he could never love someone again—those words coming from his own mouth—that I’m setting myself up for one monumental fall. And if I lose someone else I love… I’m not sure I’d recover. Not again.

  Chapter Ten

  Ronnie tells me his story again. I assume the name he’s given me is correct, but I also know Dementia causes a lot of truths to be forgotten. The story of Ronnie’s time in World War Two, can’t be the only one he has, but it’s the only one he’s sharing. I’ve listened to him tell me it seven times in the last two hours. It’s only in the past thirty minutes that the other seniors have started to take an interest in what’s going on. I assume they’ve heard the repeated story and, therefore, switch off. I’ve spoken briefly to Mildred, who wouldn’t give me her full name, insisting I call her Mildred so as not to make her feel old. The other four seniors, all women, are very quiet. They seemed bored when I came in, now they seem to be watchful, inquisitive. Not enough to partake in the conversation, though.

  “I’m going to get a coffee Ronnie, you want one?” I ask the man who was just alight with pleasure. Now he sits there staring out of the window, like an empty vessel. It chokes me up. My mom is like this now too. I should see her more often. Shaking my head and offer coffee to everyone else, who all decline, so I move out of the room almost falling over a body crouched on the floor.

  “Laurie?” I ask, surprised.

  She looks up to me, her eyes are wide, some of her dark hair is stuck to her face. She looks like a rabbit caught in the headlights, and if it’s possible, it makes her even more appealing.

  “Ruben.” The soft tone of her voice flows out as a whisper. I hold my arm out to her and she slips her small hand into mine. Pulling her up to me, there’s less than an inch between us. I recognize right then that I want to kiss this woman, and maybe never stop. Our eyes are helping us engage in a standoff as we gaze at one another. When I can take no more, my feet maneuver me a step back, giving us both space. Laurie blinks and seems to gather her thoughts.

  “I was… coffee, do you want a coffee?” she rushes the words out.

  I rub the back of my neck and try to suppress a smile, everything about this woman causes a reaction in me. “Yeah, that’s where I was heading, too.”

  Nodding, Laurie spins around and makes her way to the break room that Sarah took me to earlier. She walks silently, and I can just imagine the thoughts that are going through her head, trying to organize them and construct them in such a way, so that she can keep me at arm’s length.

  “So, who’s Amber?” I ask.

  Her step falters, but she quickly corrects it. “Who told you about Amber?” she replies not turning around to face me.

  “Sarah, but she wouldn’t say anymore. Said it was your story to tell,” I reply.

  Laurie doesn’t say anything more, and I think that’s it. That she’s not going to share. However, once we have our coffees and have taken a seat, Laurie rests her elbows on her knees and leans forward. Her shoulders drop and she lets out a sigh. “She was a runaway. Kept being placed in children’s homes and continuously leaving. We found her in the doorway one day, half-starved and freezing. Once we got her sorted out, the system wanted to suck her right back in. I kept her with me for longer than I was allowed. The authorities found out, and that’s when Sarah stepped in. She has friends over in adoptive services. Between them, they managed to swing it so she could stay in my care, with extremely close monitoring.” She looks up to my face now as she bites her lip. “She’s been a crutch for me, and I’m only just working that out now. The other thing I’ve worked out very recently is that apparently everyone can see just how damaged I am. I’ve been trying to kid myself for so long…” Laurie stops talking and drops her head again. I’m at a loss, unsure what I’m supposed to do. This is what I wanted, for her to admit that she has issues, to face them, to overcome them. I still don’t know why it’s so important to me? Why I want to help so badly? Why I can even see her issues? Now she has admitted it, though, I’m stuck. I don’t know which direction to take.

  “Doesn’t matter,” I hear her whisper, and it sends a bolt of anger through me. Annoyed with myself for not doing the one thing I have been asking… to be there for her.

  “Fuck it!” I slam my hand down on the table and Laurie’s head jerks up.

  “What?” Her eyebrows shoot skyward, worry mixed with confusion covers her face.

  “I’m taking you out tonight,” I tell her.

  “W-what?” she stammers.

  “Simple. I’ve known you for over two years, Laurie, but I don’t really know you. Tonight, that changes. And it’s not just me that’s going to learn all about you, Laurie. Tonight I want you, to get to know the real you. I have a feeling that you don’t really have the first clue about yourself, about who you really are, or what you really want. I’d bet that you’ve lived for everyone else almost your whole life. I’m gonna help you make that change, and I’m gonna help you live for you.”

  When I see the tears that well in her eyes, I know I’ve hit a nerve. She ignores the lone tear that rolls down her cheek, instead biting her lip as the corners of her mouth tip up in a small smile. Then she nods. It’s the only response I get before I watch her silently walk out of the room.

  “You ready?” My voice startles Laurie, who seems to be in her own head as she stares out of the office window a few hours later.

  “Huh?” she replies, tilting her head.

  “It’s after four, I’m taking you for dinner,” I tell her.

  “Oh, yeah, right,” she mumbles back. “Wait, no. I don’t normally leave here until after six and I eat even later than that. There’s so much to do still, I can’t leave yet.”

  “No arguing. You deserve an early finish. I’ve already told Sarah that I’m taking you for dinner, and she’s gonna drop Amber back home.”

  “What? You don’t even know Sarah, and yet you’re organizing my life through her?” The growl that comes out of her mouth surprises me. When we interacted all that time ago, even though for a lot of it I was drunk, or angry and therefore ignored her, she never—that I remember—got angry that much. Quickly pushing past her mood, I smile.

  Her scowl drops, as she lets her eyes move over my face. “You’re so h—” She stops mid-sentence, but I let it slide.

  “Come on, you need to eat,” I say pointing to her tiny frame. With no reply, she stands and grabs her purse. I lead her out of the center and to my car, opening the door for her to get in. All the while, not a word is spoken.

  It’s not until we’re ten minutes along in our journey that the silence is broken. “Where are we going?” Her voice is quiet, almost timid, even though I know that she’s not.

  “To my apartment.”

  “What?”

  My reply obviously shocks her, if her replied screech is anything to go by. “I figured you know I’m not an axe murderer. I thought it would be nice going somewhere quiet, peaceful, a place where we could talk or just kick back.” My answer is only part truth. I did want to go somewhere quiet so we could talk. However, the real reason I picked my place is because I know that Laurie doesn’t have much money. She may not have something suitable to wear at such short notice for a nice restaurant, and I know she’d try and pay for her half… even though there’s no way in hell I’d let her. I don’t want to put her in an awkward position, and I don’t give one shit what she wears or where we are. As long as I can spend time with this woman, I will. I want to know everything, and tonight that mission officially starts.

  Chapter Eleven

  I’m still not entirely sure how I ended up at Ruben’s apartment. There was a time, when I first met him, I thought that I could help him. Back then, I would have given anythi
ng to be alone at his place. With nothing more than a few dates and the odd kiss here and there, my love life hasn’t really consisted of much love… then again the life part sucks most of the time too. Now I’m here, I’m reminded about the valley that seems to sit between us. The whole situation feels strange, and yet comfortable. I can’t read anything into that, though. Although I’ve known Ruben for years, I really know nothing about him, and I’m sure he feels the same about me.

  We enter his place, which is less like an apartment and more like one of those designer pads. The ones they have on those television shows, where someone has to sell them for the owner and they nearly always reach at least a million dollars. I realize that I need to use the bathroom, I’m not sure whether it’s because of a genuine need, or because I’m so nervous that I’m about to pee myself.

  “Can you tell me where the bathroom is?” I ask Ruben. I’m pretty sure he can sense my worry, if his scrunched up eyebrows are any indication.

  He doesn’t call me on it, though, only pointing in the direction I assume is the location of the bathroom. I nod and make my way along the hallway. For such a big place, there doesn’t seem to be too many doors, so I find the bathroom immediately. What I see when I enter takes my breath away. The room is nicer than my bedroom and living space all rolled into one. Hell, it’s nicer than all the bedrooms and living spaces I’ve ever lived in throughout my whole life, rolled into one. The room is huge and filled with dark gray marble, some white tiling obviously used to lighten the place up. Double basins and double shower and fluffy gray and white towels. It screams man… no… it screams bachelor. But all very sterile and not a home. It’s only after I do my business and reach over to grab some toilet paper that I really appreciate the luxury. The tissue is soft on my fingers, I could probably use it for my face or to stuff my currently hollow pillow.

  “His toilet paper probably costs more than the clothes I’m wearing,” I mumble the words to myself and they sound so ridiculous that I start laughing, on the toilet, with Ruben in the next room. Stifling my reaction to my own stupidity, I hear him gently tap on the door.

  “Are you okay, Laurie?”

  I bite my lip and shake my head, suppressing another bout of laughter at my current situation. “Yeah, sorry, I’ll be out in a sec,” I tell him.

  “O-kay.” His tone is unsure, but I breathe out a sigh after I hear him walk away.

  Once my feet move me back into the living room, and I see Ruben is standing, waiting for me, I let myself relax some, but I’m still scared to touch anything in his showcase house. I’m pretty sure I’d have to sell my body, for at least three years, to be able to pay for anything should I break it. Ruben walks out of the room and I stand still, not sure what I’m supposed to do.

  “Do you want a drink?” His deep voice comes from what I assume is the kitchen, and there seems to be an invisible cord making me take a few steps in that direction. Just as I reach the door, Ruben walks back around. “Did you hear…” The words die in his throat as he nearly bangs into me. I find my nose almost touching his Henley wrapped chest, and as I let my head fall back so I can see his eyes, my chin grazes the material which sends an unwanted shiver down my back. “Sorry,” he whispers, reaching his hand out and cupping my elbow. Not that I was going anywhere, my body seems to be magnetized to his.

  I break the moment. “Coffee.” My voice is croaky.

  “What?” he asks.

  “Drink… you asked what I wanted to drink. Coffee please,” I rush out.

  His fingers peel away from my elbow, and I can feel the singe that he’s left behind. Deciding I’m better off giving us some distance, I ask, “Is it okay if I go sit in back in there,” pointing back to the living room.

  “Of course,” he replies. His voice is gravelly, and although I haven’t been with anyone for a while, I still know that sound, and I can’t help the smirk that forms knowing I’ve affected him. Walking back into the other room, I take a seat and fidget, unsure of how to sit or what to do. My legs are restless, so I slip off my shoes and tuck my feet under me. Thoughts run through my head as I realize the automatic movement I just made, something which I’ve never done in anyone’s home other than my own. It’s a comfort thing.

  “It’s okay, I want you to be comfortable,” Ruben says, rounding the corner with two cups of coffee, and scaring the crap out of me at the same time. I look up to his eyes as his tall frame bends at the waist placing the cup on the small table in front of me.

  How could he have possibly known what was running through my head?

  “Tell me about you, Ruben.” I’m surprised the minute the words leave my lips. Even though Ruben used to come to my groups, he never really said much about what happened, or how he felt. He always seemed like he was haunted. Whoever he did speak to, if anyone, that person certainly wasn’t me. Danny gave me some basic background information, but not much. He was engaged and she died from cancer. A great love story, one with an unhappy ending. Leaving behind a man so in love with a woman, who’s now only a memory. I’m realistic, I can’t compete with her, and I’m never going to try. Suddenly, I feel very cold and uncomfortable. I’m not sure anymore why I allowed him to bring me here, to take me anywhere actually. This is all the result of a silly crush that I have on an unobtainable man.

  “You know I lost Amanda.” Ruben’s words break me from the spiral I was edging toward, and I release a stuttering breath. Closing my eyes slowly and swallowing, I can almost feel his pain, like it exists as its own being. “Laurie,” Ruben speaks softly and I feel his fingers graze my arm.

  Opening my eyes the first thing I see is his smile. It’s sad, but not broken like it was before. This is where I can see the change in him. He used to be so obviously broken, that I didn’t know if he would ever get past it. When he disappeared from my life, I worried that he had become a statistic, that he would lose his life either to the drink, living day by day consumed by alcohol, or maybe even lose his life in the literal sense. It amazes me that this is the same man. His progress is something he should be proud of, yet understanding how it feels to lose someone you love, I know that pride in getting over their death is not something I’d want as my accomplishment.

  Remembering he said my name I reply, “What?”

  “It’s okay.” I’m unsure what he’s trying to convey, so I tilt my head slightly. Ruben takes in my movement and stares for a few moments, before matching my stance, tilting his head until it’s aligned with mine. “I used to hate talking about her. For two reasons. One, because it reminded me, and although she was on my mind all the time, it seemed to hurt more when I let out the words. Secondly, because I felt that no one deserved her story. Nobody was good enough including myself, I didn’t deserve to speak her name.” With our heads still tilted, I bite my lip and slowly straighten my body back up.

  Ruben does the same, then points between the two of us. “I used to feel like that.”

  I can feel my eyebrows pull inwards as the confusion makes my brain fuzzy. “You’ve lost me… feel like what?” I question.

  “Like my world was tilted.” His response rocks me. The slanting of our heads is symbolic for him. I can’t think on it too long before he explains, “I always felt like my life was off. I’ve never been able to put my finger on it just that something was missing. I had a thriving company, good friends and a full life. I also had no problem finding women.” He watches me, measuring my reaction to his comment, but I bite back anything I feel. I’m not entitled to let a small comment hurt me, I’m not even sure if he’s my friend, so I definitely have no claim on him, or his previous life.

  When he seems satisfied he continues with his story, “I was friends with Danny, but we both left our hometowns behind, along with women we had cared about. It was Anabel for Danny, he left her even though he loved her. I had always liked Amanda, I’d wanted to take things further, but something always stopped me pursuing her.” He shakes his head with a smirk. “Danny went back after years of being away and h
e met up with Anabel. Around that time, Amanda had come back from Paris, which is where she’d lived for ten years.”

  My heart thumps in my chest. I’m torn, amazed and elated that he’s opening up, but scared shitless, because I don’t want to know more about her. From what I picked up when I was last in his life she already sounds amazing. My thoughts are cut off quickly.

  “Danny and Anabel soon became a couple again. Amanda and me had a natural connection. I’m not going to lie, I loved her. I was going to marry her.”

  There it is. I knew this basic information about him, but somehow hearing it come from his lips, makes it feel like he’s piercing me with every word.

  “She wasn’t meant to be my forever though.”

  I catch my breath. “She could have been.” The sentence involuntarily leaves my brain and travels to my mouth, spewing out with no filter applied.

  “She could have been.” He echoes my thoughts back to me. I nod but say nothing, instead looking down at my clasped hands. “I hated her.” At his confession my eyes snap back to his. He nods, as though he needs to confirm what he just said. “I did. I hated her. She left me and I blamed her for it… for something she had no control over.” He sighs and opens his arms, laying them on the back of the sofa as he sits facing me. “Dick move, right? I just couldn’t see past the fact that I was the one suffering, I was the one in pain. It was all about me. I’m serious as shit when I say that if Amanda were here, she would have kicked me in my junk for behaving that way.” He smirks, but it drops from his face quickly as his eyebrows draw in. “The thing with Amanda and me, and I feel like a piece of shit for saying this, but over the time I’ve spent in rehab and when I opened up to a counsellor, it made me re-evaluate everything. I will never say I didn’t love Amanda, because I did, and to deny that would be disrespectful and would also make me a dick. But I wonder, would we have stayed together if she didn’t have cancer?” Ruben shoots up out of his seat so quickly that I jump at his movement. He strides to the window and looks up at the stars which are now covering the dark sky. “I hate myself for saying it, but Simpson…” he stops and looks at me, “…my counselor.” I nod and he turns back to the stars. “He said that if you took away the cancer would you still have been with Amanda. Yes. The answer was immediate. Then he asked, ‘If she didn’t have cancer, do you think you would have had a future? Could you see yourself with her forever?’”