Perfectly Damaged

by E. L. Montes

  I look all around. Everyone’s talking at once. Jenna whimpers. I shake my head. “No. Just leave. I made a mistake.”

  The assistant grips Jenna’s left arm. “Take her other arm, Mr. McDaniel.” Jenna’s father grips her right arm and they both try to pull her away from me. Jenna looks up at me, waterworks flowing. She tries to hold onto me for dear life.

  “Son… Son,” I look at Mr. McDaniel. “You’re only making things worse. Trust me. You’re doing the right thing. She needs to get better. Don’t you want her better?”

  I look down at Jenna, her head shaking furiously for me not to let go. But I don’t see my Jersey Girl anymore. All I see is a sick girl. One with dark circles around her sunken eyes, one with pale skin, and one who’s almost skin and bones from lack of nourishment. And as much as she’s still beautiful to me, she’s not Jersey Girl anymore.

  I let go.

  “NO!” She screams, shouts, kicks, and swings. She tries her hardest to tear away from their hold, but they pull her down to the floor. “Get off me, get off me. No!”

  I stumble back and watch as it all takes place in slow motion. The assistant pulls out a needle, stabs Jenna in the arm, and pumps her with a clear liquid. I grip my head. What the fuck have I done?

  “No… No… Noo…” Jenna mumbles, then her eyes shut.

  Everything else is a blur. They carry her outside. Charlie pats my shoulder and tells me I did the right thing. They drive away.

  And I’m just here.

  In my apartment right back at a fucking standstill.

  Love is the devil in disguise. He sweeps in and seduces you when you’re at your weakest, when you’ve lost all hope. But he gives you a sense of want and desire. He whispers sweet words, wrapping you into a world of existence, because before Love, you didn’t exist. Then, when you give in fully, when you’re lost in Love and when he has you exactly where he wants you, he takes over completely, possessing your mind, body, and soul.

  That’s when he snatches your heart, rips it to shreds, and leaves you with nothing left to give.

  Logan was Love. He was the devil in disguise. He gave me everything I wanted and more, and then he ripped it away.

  Just. Like. That.

  I allowed myself to get lost in him. I believed every single word he said.

  For what?

  Nothing.

  Because eventually, he gave up on us.

  “How are you feeling today, Jenna?”

  I continue to stare out the window. This new doctor should know how I feel. What’s the point at explaining, anyway?

  He goes on, “Do you know how long you’ve been in here?”

  “Twenty-six days.”

  “That’s right. Twenty-six days, Jenna. Don’t you want to get better so you can go home?”

  I turn my head and stare blankly at him. “What’s the point?” I shrug.

  “What do you mean?”

  I stand, “No one wants me at home. I’m a burden. So what’s the point?” I turn, walking out the door and into the rec room with the other patients.

  This is the first time in the eight weeks that I’ve been here that I’ve agreed to meet with my visitors. My father tried to visit, but I just couldn’t bear to see the disappointment on his face. Logan tried, but I definitely couldn’t see him. Period. My mother hasn’t bothered. She was called in to have a therapy session with me and she refused.

  I walk into the visiting area. My eyes scan the room until I spot Charlie. I walk over and take a seat on the couch across from her. She smiles.

  “You look so good, Jenna.”

  “Thanks.” I swallow back a sob. It’s been two months since I’ve seen her and I miss her so much. “You do too.”

  Her smile softens. “How are you doing?”

  I shrug. “Okay, I guess.”

  She nods. “That’s great. Really great.”

  “You?”

  “Oh, I’m okay. I found work in the city. You are looking at the new fashionista for an up-and-coming small magazine. They want me to find all of the latest fashion trends. Can you believe it?”

  I wish I could jump for joy for my friend. That is what I feel right now—pleasure for her—but I just can’t find the motivation to show it. “That’s awesome.”

  “Listen, your father and I were talking and we thought maybe when you get out of here, you and I can share an apartment. Maybe in the city? Get a fresh start? You could go back to school, while I focus on my new job. It could be fun.”

  “Yeah. Sounds fun,” I say, knowing it’s not going to happen. I’m never getting out of here because I’m never getting better.

  “Jenna,” She leans in, “I miss you.”

  I nod, sniff back the tears, and look out the window. “Yeah, that’s nice.”

  “Logan misses you too.” She had to go there. My chest aches and suddenly it’s difficult to breathe. “He asked me to give you something.”

  I tilt my head to look at her. She digs into her purse and pulls out a small yellow gift bag—one of the ones I’d given him. My lips tremble as I see it dangle from her fingertips. I don’t move or reach for it, so instead she places it down on the table between us. She digs into her purse again and removes an envelope, placing it beside the gift bag.

  “I’ll just leave it here. You can open it whenever you’re ready.” She stands from her seat. “Jenna?” I look up at her. “You really do look good. Think about what I said. You can start fresh. A clean slate.”

  I nod. Then she turns and walks away. I stare at the door she exited for what seems like a long time, wishing she’d come back, but she never does.

  Then I stare at the small yellow bag and envelope for the rest of my visiting hour. When time is up, I pick both up and take them with me to my room. I sit cross-legged in the middle of my bed as I continue to stare at both side-by-side.

  Finally, I dig into the bag and pull out a small box. A tiny tug pulls at the corner of my lip. The box is wrapped in newspaper. Tearing it open, I flip the lid and remove a necklace. Hanging from the silver chain is a clear locket with floating charms in it. I shake the locket, scattering the charms so I can have a better look at each one.

  Still holding the locket in my hand, I grab the envelope and remove a letter. My throat closes and my chest tightens at just reading the first two words. I can hear him saying them. Then I keep reading.

  Jersey Girl,

  I’m probably the last person you ever want to see again, let alone read a letter from, but I figured it’s worth a shot. I just hope you can find it in your heart to fully read this letter before throwing it away.

  I know you feel as if I have given up on you, and for a while I thought maybe I had. But the more I think of it, the more I know I was never giving up. Instead it was the complete opposite. I’d never thought I would fall in love, but you changed that for me. I now know that it’s possible for anyone to feel and be loved. Even if it was just for the short summer we had together, you have no idea how much you changed my life. You saved me from the standstill I lived in for so long. I truly feel my purpose was to find you, and if we never see one another again, I know loving you was the reason I was given a second chance at life.

  You have given me so much, and for that I want to give you something in return. If you haven’t already opened the present, you’ll find a locket with a few charms. Each one represents what I want to give to you and what I hope for you in life:

  The coin with the word ‘believe’ inscribed on it, represents my hope that one day you can believe in yourself and your talents just as much as I do.

  The paintbrush charm signifies the hope that when you do paint again, you’ll capture every moment, both good and bad, and every emotion without feeling stuck or shoving them away. If you can do that, Jersey Girl, you can paint the world.

  The heart-shaped charm symbolizes my love for you and the love we shared. As long as you want it, my heart will always be yours. But most of all, I hope that you can learn to love yourself. You
will never know how special and beautiful and intelligent you are until you can love the person I fell in love with.

  And lastly, the yellow stone charm reflects the light you shine on so many lives, mine included. And I hope that no matter how many demons you struggle with, you will always find your way out of the dark.

  I love you, Jersey Girl.

  Always,

  Logan

  Tears are freely flowing down my cheeks as I try to blink them away. With one hand I grip the letter, allowing the words to wrap around and soothe my heart. With my other hand I clench my fingers around the locket, forming a fist and bringing it to my chest.

  The last three months we shared together begin to whirl in my head: me flowing beneath the water in the pool, the first time I saw his blue eyes when he jumped in after me, our first kiss on the porch, the day I ran away and he found me on the street corner barefoot, weekends at the lake house sitting together on the dock, us laying by the lake watching the stars.

  My thoughts continue, lingering briefly on each memory. The park. The laughs. The hugs. The special Logan kisses. The day I realized I fell in love with him. The day I told him about my illness. The day he accepted me—all of me. The first time we made love. The fear I felt when he moved me in with him. The day I thought he’d given up—my hand reaching for him, begging him not to let them take me away. The look of fear and confusion in his eyes after realizing what he’d done.

  And now.

  This.

  The letter. The locket.

  Through it all, I still love him. I will always love him, but he’s right. I need to learn how to love myself before I can fully love him.

  I can slowly work on it.

  Starting with today.

  I remove the books from of the last box and place them on the bookshelf. There’s something about emptying the last box that’s relieving. Looking around, I inspect my new place and smile. It’s definitely different than my bedroom, but now that I’m sharing a space with Charlie we had to compromise on décor.

  I hear a knock at the door and rush over to open it. My father steps in with a large box in his hand. “I was just thinking how great it felt to empty the last box. Thanks, Dad,” I joke. He leans in, pressing his lips against my forehead.

  “Well, I thought you’d like to have some of Brooke’s things,” he says, dropping the box on top of the dining table.

  I walk over and search through, smiling at the filled picture frames, a few of her favorite books, and a few other favorite things of hers. “Thank you, Daddy.” I hug him.

  He nods.

  “Would you like anything?” I ask, walking into the open kitchen.

  He scoots onto a stool by the island. “I’ll have coffee.”

  While the coffee is brewing, I turn and face him. My handsome father looks run-down. “Have you heard from Mom?” I ask him.

  He shakes his head. “No. Like I said to you, I know it’s difficult for your mother to handle this separation, but until she gets professional help, I can’t continue going on with her like this.”

  I nod in understanding. “Do you know if she is?”

  “I’ve spoken with Dr. Rosario. She won’t give me specifics, but she has mentioned she’s been in the office. I’m just hoping it works out for her.” He pauses. “Jenna, I do love your mother. We have a history of twenty-eight years and I can’t erase that, even if I tried. But the way she treated you was uncalled for, and I couldn’t stand by and let her think it was acceptable.”

  I know this has been as hard on him as it has been on me. I haven’t spoken to my mother in over eight months. I’d be lying if I said she hasn’t crossed my mind because she has. I wonder if she’s getting the help she needs, or if she even thinks of me, but I don’t dwell on it for too long. I’ve learned not to focus on the things I can’t control. Instead I focus on waking up each morning and continuing to push throughout the day. “Thank you,” I say, then slide a filled mug his way.

  Charlie walks in just on time. “Hey, Mr. McDee.”

  “Charlie.” My father smiles.

  “Guess who I just ran into at the market?” she says, placing the groceries on the counter.

  “Who?” I ask.

  “Bryson.” My body stills at hearing his name. It’s the closest I’ve gotten to Logan in a long time. And since Santino and Charlie haven’t been a thing for a while, I haven’t heard anything about any of the guys. “He is getting hotter, by the way, and guess what? He finally dumped Blair. For good this time! Thank God.”

  “How is he?” I ask, slowly scooting onto a stool. What I really want to ask is How is Logan doing?

  “He’s okay. His father is ill.”

  “George?” I breathe out in disbelief.

  She nods, digging into the bags and removing a carton of milk. “Yeah. Poor guy. Cancer. They found out last month, and he’s going through chemo. Bryson has been handling the business on his own. Since Logan left he’s been so busy.”

  “Left? What do you mean Logan left?”

  “I think I’m going to go now.” My father stands, heads my way, and leaves a kiss on my cheek. “Enjoy your new apartment, baby.”

  “Thank you, Dad.” He waves bye to Charlie and leaves. I focus back on Charlie. “Logan left?”

  She stops, her hands resting over the counter, and then she looks at me. “Yes. Logan quit months ago. He said he needed a new start. He moved to the Poconos and has been staying at the lake house. He began working on small projects around there.”

  I swallow hard. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because you were finally getting yourself together. And he thought it was best.”

  I shake my head. “He? The two of you have been talking?”

  “Not much, just through text. He only texts me to check in on you. I didn’t even know about his uncle until today.”

  “How could you keep that from me, Charlie?” I stand, pacing in the kitchen as I reach for the locket secured around my neck.

  “Like I said, he wanted to keep it that way.”

  Wetting my lips, I stop my pacing. “Does he not want to see me?”

  “Jenna, he loves you. He always has. He asked me to respect his wishes and not mention him to you. I thought it was ridiculous and that the two of you need each other, but he made me promise.”

  I rush to the closet, grab my jacket, and snatch my keys from the counter.

  “Where are you going?” Charlie shouts out.

  “To the lake house.”

  After the longest two and a half hour drive of my life, I finally reach the lake house. I stop and admire it for a moment. It looks different. Quiet. There’s no music or people partying or Ping-Pong games set up. It’s simply peaceful and beautiful.

  Instead of using the front entrance, I walk around the back. My heart skips a beat when I see Logan’s truck. He’s here. I find the courage to climb the stairs of the deck and gently knock on the door.

  Nothing.

  My knuckles scrape against the door as I knock louder this time. Still there’s no answer.

  Air leaves my lungs in frustration. I’ve come too far to just walk away. Turning, I head for the swing bench by the large tree, thinking I could wait there for him. That’s when I see him. He’s on the dock by the lake. I take in a lungful of air, hoping it will give me the confidence to face him.

  I slowly travel down the long path that leads to the dock. My legs tremble as I continue down the wooden boards. His back is facing me. He’s standing by the edge, looking over the lake, his hands shoved in the front pockets of his khaki shorts. A white T-shirt hugs his figure, exposing his broad shoulders, and he’s wearing the Phillies cap.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” I say as I get closer.

  His body stiffens; slowly, he tilts his head and looks over his shoulder. I freeze in place and take this second to appreciate the sight of him. He looks down and then turns around so he’s facing me.

  I take a few steps forward until we’re arm’s
length away from one another. “Hey,” I say, my eyes glued to his.

  “Hey,” he says back, swallowing.

  We both stand here for a long time, trying to figure out if this is real. Both our chests and shoulders move rapidly with our breathing.

  “You look really good,” he finally says.

  “So do you,” I say quietly.

  His brows furrow. “How did you get here?” he asks.

  “I drove.”

  His face lights up. “You’re finally driving, huh?”

  I let out a nervous chuckle. “No. Actually I took a taxi.”

  He laughs, which makes me smile. For a moment everything is back to normal until he bows his head, breaking our connection.

  “I heard about your uncle. I’m sorry.”

  He looks up. “Thanks. He’s strong. He’s going to beat this.”

  I nod. “I know he will.”

  Another round of silence. Then his gaze drops to my neckline. “I see you got the necklace.”

  I lift my hand and touch it. “Yeah. I love it. Thank you. This necklace and your letter got me through a lot during my recovery.”

  His lips slant, eyes tearing up a bit. “I’m glad to hear that. I meant everything in that letter.”

  “I know.” I break out into tears. Then laugh. “I’m sorry. God, I didn’t want to cry.” I wipe my eyes.

  Logan closes the three steps between us, and before I know it, his hands are on my face, wiping my tears away. “So, what’s new with you?” he asks, his eyes tracing my features.

  “I’m painting again,” I admit, blinking away my tears so I can see him.

  A smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “I’m glad to hear that.”

  I nod. “And I applied to school. I’ll be starting in the fall, and over the summer I’ll be teaching art at a day camp.”

  His face shows so much pride. “That’s good. Real good.”

  I moisten my lips. “You? What have you been up to?” I manage to ask.

  “You know.” He shrugs. “A little of this, a little of that. And missing you.” His smile fades. “I’ve missed you, Jersey Girl.”