Sweetest Heartbreak

by Heather Bentley

  I speak honestly with her, something I haven’t done since the day my heart was broken. About what really happened between Heath and me and every ugly day that followed. I cry out of embarrassment, out of shame, and out of fear for how poorly she must think of me. But my mom, being the loving woman she is, never judges or criticizes. Instead, she listens and consoles. Then, she plans.

  Together, we decide it’s best if I finish out the final month of my contract, while meeting with the psychologist and nutritionist recommended to me by the hospital. She will stay these next two weeks, and then Connor will fly back for the final two weeks. She said it’s to make sure I’m healing properly and taking care of myself, but if we’re being honest, there’s also concern that I might fall back into newly acquired, and toxic, habits.

  A month later, with my mom and brother by my side, we pack up the little bit I have here and head home, leaving a year’s worth of mistakes behind.

  Heath

  It’s still early enough that I’m able to get a small table in the far corner of the bar. I don’t even know why I’m here, just that I’m restless as fuck, knowing Eli dropped everything to be with Leah in Chicago. I can’t shake the way his face changed when he answered his phone and how he yelled to Lindsey to book him a flight before running to his room to pack a bag. When I tried to block him, to find out what had happened, he screamed at me to back off. So, I did. I stood behind the counter in the kitchen, out of the way but not willing to leave, hoping he’d give me something. Anything.

  When he said good-bye to Lindsey with tears in her eyes that matched the strain on his face, that was when I lost it. Charging to the door before he could get there, I grabbed his sleeve. “Eli, please. Tell me what the hell is going on.”

  His jaw locked as he shook his head, before pulling Lindsey in for one last kiss and running out the door for the airport.

  So, here I am, down the street from my place, sitting in a dark bar, drinking my usual tonic and lime. Frustrated and alone. And I deserve every miserable second of it.

  “Hey, Heath.” Lucy surprises me as she sets down her drink and takes a seat on the stool next to me.

  I barely glance her way. “Hey, Luce.” I fake a small smile and focus on my drink.

  “Wow, you’re in a great mood tonight. Want to talk about it?”

  “No.” I don’t bother to raise my head. “Have you talked to your brother?”

  “No, just Lindsey. He’s in . . .” She catches herself. “Something about him being out of town.”

  I nod, knowingly, then stand and throw a few dollars on the table. “Actually, I think I’m going to walk home. I’ll let you get back to your friends.”

  “I’ll walk out with you. There’s not much going on here.” She slams back the last of her drink and stands, gripping the table as she sways into it.

  As I breathe in the heavy air with my hands tucked deep in my pockets, my mind is on one thing and one thing only. Leah. I texted Eli, hoping for the slightest crumb of information, but he hasn’t responded. Not that I expect him to. But that doesn’t mean I’m about to stop trying.

  I barely notice as Lucy continues to walk with me, her rambling on since we stepped out from the bar nothing more than white noise. When we make it to the lobby of my building, she follows in, as if this has been the plan all along. Whatever. Maybe a little conversation will distract me from all the insane scenarios running through my head of what might be happening in Chicago.

  “Nice place, Heath. It actually looks like a respectable adult lives here. You’re even dressing like a grown-up these days,” she says with a drunken wink as she motions to my button-down shirt and slacks.

  I ignore her and take a seat on the sofa, and she does the same, just a foot away. Leaning forward, head down and forearms resting on my thighs, I take a few cleansing breaths. Being home isn’t any better as my imagination runs wild with a hundred what-ifs. Dragging my hands through my hair, I groan in frustration just as I feel Lucy’s hand come to my shoulder. I don’t want anyone’s kindness right now. I don’t deserve it. Even from Lucy, who’s like a sister to me.

  It’s not until I feel her hand run over my back and her body inch closer to mine that I realize she might not feel the same way.

  “Luce.” I tilt back at the same time she leans in.

  “Heath.”

  The acrid sweetness of alcohol coats her breath as her hand travels confidently over my thigh. When her lips land harshly on mine, I open my mouth in protest. She takes advantage by sealing hers to mine, her tongue pushing its way forward. I try to focus on the fact that I’ve got an attractive young woman willing to kiss me, whom I’m free to kiss in return—and probably much more—so I pressure myself to take this one moment. Moving into her, I bring my hand to her head and kiss her back.

  Maybe this kiss will ease the ache since Leah left. But her hair under my fingers isn’t as soft as Leah’s. She doesn’t taste like Leah either. And her body pressed tightly against mine doesn’t feel like Leah. She certainly doesn’t make my skin heat like Leah.

  Leah. Leah. Leah.

  I force my body back and jump from my seat, my hands behind my head as I catch my breath. Looking down at her, I know I’ve made a huge mistake. Because I don’t see an attractive brunette. All I see is the young girl who cried when we hung her doll from a tree. Or the snotty teenager who told us every day how much she hated us. I only see her as a surrogate sister. That’s it. I can’t think of Lucy in any other way—ever.

  “Heath?”

  “I’m sorry, Luce. I can’t . . . you and I, we’re not . . .”

  She stands, finding her purse and retrieving her phone before tapping at the screen.

  “No, don’t apologize. I get it.”

  “Luce, I’m sor—”

  “I said, don’t apologize!”

  She won’t look at me, keeping all her focus on her phone. When I attempt a step toward her, she moves back.

  “It’s fine, Heath. It’s my fault. I had a little too much to drink, and, well, you’re you.” She goes back to typing.

  “What does that mean?”

  She’s drunker than I realized, and now, I feel like a bigger ass for not seeing it.

  “C’mon, Heath. Just don’t right now, okay?”

  “Don’t what?”

  “Never mind. Can we just forget this ever happened? And please don’t tell my brother. That’s all either of us needs.” She reads a message on her phone before bringing it down to her side. “I texted a friend at the bar. She’s meeting me halfway.”

  I reach out to her. “No, Lucy. At least let me walk you.” Please say no. Please say no.

  “No.” She forces out a laugh. “I want to be alone with you right now about as much as you do with me.” She throws her purse over her shoulder and walks toward the door.

  Just when I think this clusterfuck is over, she turns back. “You still love her.”

  Every muscle in me tightens at her proclamation.

  “My advice, do everything you can to win her back. Otherwise, you’ll never forgive yourself for not trying.” Her voice softens. “Most everything is forgivable, Heath, and everyone deserves a chance at forgiveness. Even fools like you.” With that, she turns and walks out my door.

  Is she right? Can I be forgiven?

  I’d give Leah my deepest, darkest truths, my heaviest regrets. I’d lay every part of me out to her, at her feet, nothing left unsaid. Every raw emotion and insecurity. I’d give it all to her if I could just earn the chance.

  I’ve been stalking Eli’s house so long, I can’t believe the neighbors haven’t called the cops yet. But I couldn’t care less. He never responded to my texts, and I can’t take it anymore. Lindsey took pity on me enough to let me know that his flight is due to get in at four o’clock today. So, here I am, sitting out front of their place in my car. Waiting. She invited me inside, but I declined. There’s no steering wheel to bang my head on in there.

  Every time a car turns down the st
reet, I sit up, alert, my hand ready on the door handle. And, every time, it’s a false alarm. Just when I’m about to slouch back in defeat, I recognize Eli’s car. Flying out of my seat and across the yard, I expect him to slam the front door in my face, but instead, I get the opposite.

  He pulls the car into the driveway on an angle before flinging the door open and charging toward me. I continue to move forward, not caring about what he could possibly scream at me right now, but he doesn’t say a word. He lets his fists do the talking.

  I don’t see the first swing coming before it connects with my jaw, forcing my head to snap back and my body to lean to the side. I manage to catch myself before I make it all the way to the ground. With my hands out in defense, I only have a second before the next hit comes square in the ribs, knocking the air from my lungs and my body to its knees. I claw at the grass, willing my lungs to work when Eli lunges at me and knocks me to my back.

  Straddling my chest, he fists my shirt in one hand while the other is cocked back and ready to fire. “You motherfucker!” His spit sprays my face, and my eyes close instinctively.

  When I don’t make an effort to fight back, he fires fast and hard into my face. My vision rattles and pain explodes as he connects with my nose, causing a thin but rapid stream of blood to gush down to my mouth and across my cheek. The pain radiating from my face and chest are trivial compared to the agony and hatred spewing from every molecule of my best friend’s body.

  He’s shouting, calling me names, telling me he’s done with me and that I’m worthless. I know he’s right—about all of it. I’ve known for a while now. So, when I watch an arm pull back once again, I dig my fingers into the grass and dirt below me and close my eyes, bracing myself for my next round of punishment.

  But it never comes.

  When I dare to open my eyes, I see Lindsey in his face, crying and pleading with him to stop. It’s not until she kneels down and pulls him in by his shoulders that he seems to actually hear her. She tugs him off of me and then grips him in a tight embrace. Even with pain throbbing throughout my body, I can hear the sobs coming from Eli as she leads him inside, followed by the sound of the front door closing.

  I continue to lie there, my nose pounding at a rhythmic rate. The blood flowing down my face has slowed to a trickle, and despite what just happened here, the day is peaceful. No sounds of traffic or playing kids. In fact, as I lie, aching, on my back, I’m surrounded by green grass and a perfect blue sky, dotted with small white clouds. And for the first time since I can remember, I cry. Because I now know whatever happened in Chicago is far worse than anything I had imagined.

  I look for images in the white shapes passing over me, as the trail of blood lessens, leaving stains in the grass below. A warm cloth wipes at my face before Lindsey slides her hand under my head and lifts. I raise my hand, motioning for her to stay back, so she does, handing me the cloth in exchange. Between my own crying and the blood that has traveled into my throat, I need a minute before I can stand. I wipe at my face and attempt the first dizzy steps toward my car.

  But Lindsey surprises me. “He wants to talk to you.”

  I freeze. Not because I’m afraid of what he’ll do to me, but because I’m terrified of finally learning the truth.

  With an arm hugging a tender spot at my ribs and the other holding the cloth to my nose, I find Eli sitting at the kitchen table. One hand rests flatly under a bag of ice while the other holds a glass of clear liquid, a bottle of Grey Goose sitting, uncapped, next to it. I pull out the chair at the far end of the table, but he stops me before I can sit.

  “Not there.” He looks to the seat across from him as Lindsey pulls out my chair and gives me an ice pack, only leaving us when Eli promises there won’t be any more bloodshed.

  I don’t dare speak first, but the silence is killing me. He’s staring down into his glass, lost in thought. I want to shake him and force it out of him. Just get it over with because every minute that passes makes my mind wander into darker and darker places.

  I pull the ice pack from my face and break the silence. “Will she be all right?”

  He grinds his jaw, deciding whether or not to answer me.

  “Please, whatever it is, just tell me.” My voice is weak and desperate, any ounce of pride I once had long gone.

  His head drops, and his shoulders shake, causing my own eyes to burn. In all our years as friends, this is an Eli I’ve never seen before, and his obvious pain is starting to scare the shit out of me. If she’s not okay, if this is irreparable . . .

  “Please.” My voice catches, forcing me to swallow.

  He lifts his head and looks to me with red eyes and wet cheeks. “She’s not all right. Not even close.” The words come out on a harsh whisper. “But I’ll do everything I can to make sure she gets there.”

  I nod in appreciation. It’s all I can do because I have no rights here. She’s not mine. I sure as hell made sure of that. All I can do is trust in Eli that he’ll do what I can’t.

  “Whatever she needs . . . you hear me? Do whatever it takes. Give her whatever she needs.”

  Christ, if she needed an organ, I’d cut it out of my body myself.

  He lifts his glass, takes a generous sip, and then watches as he lowers it to the table. Speaking each word with precision, he says, “What she needs is for you to stay the fuck away from her. That’s the only thing you will do for her right now.” His voice carries a tone that I’ve never heard from him.

  In a matter of a few short days, whatever happened in Chicago has changed him, hardened him in a way that will likely follow me for years to come. And that is worse than any punch to the gut.

  He looks at me like he’s seeing me for the first time. “How could you? How fucking could you, Heath?” He slams his good fist on the table and then once more. “I know what it’s like to love her. But only you knew what it was like to have her love you back. And you threw that away. I trusted you to take care of her. I trusted you to treat her better than I ever could. But you didn’t. Instead, you destroyed her.”

  We sit in pained silence until Lindsey appears at his side. He doesn’t hesitate to make room on his lap and wrap her in his arms. She squeezes him in return, whispering something in his ear.

  I feel like a knife has been jabbed and twisted in my chest, and I know I deserve every slice of pain. I don’t know how to make it go away, but even if I did, I wouldn’t want to. I want to be reminded every second of every minute of every day of what happens when I allow insecurities to rule my life.

  It’s taken total destruction of the people I love to see how I hurt everyone around me. I need to find a way to repair the damage I’ve done. Not just to Leah and Eli, but my dad as well.

  I leave them without another word and drive home. I go straight to my room, open my bottom dresser drawer, and reach into the far back corner. The pink metal container is cool, as the coins jostle around inside. I place it front and center on my dresser before running my hand over the top. I know down to my bones that, if there’s any chance of fixing the hurt I’ve caused, then there’s only one place to start. At the beginning. I have to go back if there’s any chance of moving forward.

  It’s time to clear out the skeletons. It’s time to put the demons to rest. It’s time to make my peace with my mother.

  It’s no surprise, given my history of being an asshole, that my dad and I didn’t always get along. I can see now all the ways I didn’t make it easy on him. But, since we’ve been working together, I can wholeheartedly say that not only do I like him, but I also admire him. He’s a good man, and I’m just now seeing it.

  My dad and I have been driving into the office together for some time now. He picks me up, armed with coffees made fresh by Louise, and we make the most of the little bit of time we have in the car together to catch up. There’s something about being enclosed in a metal and glass box that shuts out the rest of the world, and in that space, anything goes. No judgment or criticism. Just guidance and encouragement.<
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  It’s after six p.m., and as the office quiets down, I’d typically be finishing up and checking with my dad to see if he was ready to go. But, instead, I’m staring at my computer screen, looking at the result of a little side project I’ve been working on.

  “Wow, she still looks exactly the same. Barely a line on her face.” My dad appears from behind, causing me to jump in my seat and flip my laptop shut. “It’s fine, Heath. I’m actually shocked it’s taken you this long.”

  “Apparently, she’s been married eight times,” I stutter, reopening my laptop.

  He shakes his head, unsurprised, as he leans against the corner of my desk. “So, is she still in France?”

  “Dad, I just . . .” I turn from my computer to him. “Wait, how did you know that?”

  I just found out myself that she had an address listed in Marseilles. It took a little while to find her, considering the multiple changes to her last name.

  “I’ve kept tabs on her over the years. I had to, to protect you.”

  “Protect me? Why would you have to protect me from someone who left me?”

  He shuts my office door and takes a deep breath before continuing, “Heath, I’ve always been honest and told you your mother left. And she did, but that’s not because she wanted to. It’s because I told her to. She wasn’t given a choice in the matter.”

  “No, that’s not true. She left us.”

  “Before you get upset, let me tell you this. It was the most difficult decision I’ve ever had to make. But I wouldn’t hesitate to do it all over again if that meant keeping you safe.” He’s still leaning on my desk, his hands folded casually on his lap, his features calm.

  “Keep me safe? I don’t understand. What could she have done that was so bad, you’d force her to leave her own child?” I roll my chair back and wait for an explanation.