Broken (Broken #1)

by A. E. Murphy

  “Accepted.”

  Christ he’s such an arsehole sometimes.

  The cinema is empty when we arrive, I’m shocked it’s even open. We had to drive for nearly an hour to get here and the rain is still pelting it down. We argue for a while over seeing an action movie versus a psychological thriller. He wins and we have to watch the thriller because he can’t stand action movies. Whatever. It does look good to be fair.

  Apparently popcorn is a big no, no. Who goes to the cinema and doesn’t have popcorn? The only thing I’m allowed is a bottle of water. He’s paying so it’s not like I can complain. It’s awkward enough that I can’t afford things for myself and I feel guilty because of that. I do have some money in my account but I’m scared to spend it, I might need it. Who knows how long his generosity will last?

  We don’t speak throughout the movie for obvious reasons, we also don’t speak as we leave for not so obvious reasons. When we get outside I’m relieved to see the lack of rain. Nathan seems to think it’ll be okay to go back home, I hope he’s correct in his assumptions because blondie was right, the house is freaky in the dark. I’ll never look at it the same way again and I’ll be damned if I ever walk around at night after this.

  “You’re a good cook,” his voice startles me.

  “Thanks.” I think.

  “I have to say though, the spaghetti was my favourite. Very rich.”

  “It’s sort of my speciality I guess.”

  He glances at me out of the corner of his eye, “Where’d you learn to cook like that?”

  Does he genuinely not know? “It’s what I studied in University. I want to open up my own restaurant and bakery one day.”

  He seems surprised and I’m wondering why, “That’s a good endeavour. I’m guessing you’ve had to drop out due to the recent events?”

  “Yes. Caleb was going to drop out and stay at home with the baby.”

  I see him shake his head as he mutters, “I bet he was.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I notice his gloved hands twisting on the steering wheel, the leather squeaks against the rubber. “If you have something to say then by all means say it.”

  “I don’t.” I wait for him to explain his strange muttered outburst further but he doesn’t. “Will you be cooking this evening?”

  “If you like,” I shrug and stare at the passing trees. “It’s beautiful out here. I wish I could enjoy it more.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning I wish Caleb were still alive and then everything wouldn’t seem so bland and tasteless, and I’m not just talking about food.”

  He lets out a sigh and chews on his lower lip for a moment, “Caleb hated the countryside.”

  “He did?”

  “Yes. He preferred the beach.”

  “Oh,” I didn’t know this. My eyes burn slightly, I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because I’ve just realised I’m never going to know a lot of things about him now. Only what I already know and what I’m told by others.

  The rain starts up again but it’s only a light drizzle in comparison to how it was before. I seek refuge in the kitchen, surrounding by bubbling pots and a warming oven, as Nathan left me as soon as we arrived home. I’m grateful for this, the darkness that I’ve tried so hard to keep away has come back again and right now I just need to be left to my thoughts.

  I refuse to go to bed and wallow this time, I’m going to cook. I need to do something. I don’t want Caleb shouting at me from up there, telling me to get a hold of myself. Which I know he’s probably doing.

  Or maybe he’s stood right beside me, brushing the hair from my shoulder in preparation for his lips. Maybe he’s whispering in my ear, telling me it’s all going to be okay.

  “It’s not, Caleb,” I respond to nobody, my bottom lip quivering as I try to swallow the lump in my throat and relieve the burning behind my eyes. “It’s never going to be okay again.”

  There’s no response, not like I was hoping, so I knuckle down and continue making dinner.

  It must be the smell that has drawn Nathan from his room because he’s sat at the dining table right as I finish serving. He inhales deeply and looks at me, “This looks amazing.”

  Sitting beside him I sip on my water and take a bite of my own. It tastes like ash again. “Thanks.”

  “It tastes amazing too.”

  “I would’ve made something different but there isn’t much in,” I explain my reasons for making spaghetti again and take another bite.

  “Is everything okay?” he asks, his eyes concerned rather than their usual irritation.

  I shrug, “Fine.”

  He opens his mouth to speak but shuts it again and shakes his head. I’m grateful he doesn’t ask but part of me also wants him to. I want to spill everything that’s in my soul.

  Although even if he did ask I doubt I’d tell.

  I continue picking at my food until he finishes his and then set about clearing up. He helps me carry things from the dining area and into the kitchen.

  “I won’t be available tomorrow, I have to go to the city. I doubt I’ll be back until Tuesday morning,” he licks his lower lip and dries the pots as I pass them to him. His gloves still firmly on his hands.

  “Okay.” Great, another lonely day.

  “I’ve arranged for a laptop for you. It should arrive in the morning after I’ve left. I’ll write down the password for the WI-FI and pin it to the fridge before I leave.”

  Oh. Well I wasn’t expecting that. “That’s brilliant, thank you.”

  “No problem,” I pass him a small bowl and gasp when it shatters on the ground after our fingers connect ever so slightly. “I’m so sorry, I should’ve been more careful with my hand.” I immediately crouch and start picking up the shards.

  Nathan whips off his gloves and immediately goes to the sink to wash his hands. He does realise I didn’t actually touch his skin right? “It just shocked me, I should have been more careful,” he says calmly but I can see the stress in his eyes. “Leave that. You’ll cut yourself, I’ll get the sweeping brush.”

  I stand and search for the dustpan and brush as he sweeps the entire area into one small pile. After scooping them up I tip them in the bin and watch him wash his hands again.

  Placing a napkin over his fingertips he opens a nearby drawer and pulls out another pair of the same style gloves. He really has a problem.

  “We good?” I ask, tilting my head to the side.

  He nods, flexing his fingers inside the leather, “I apologize for startling you.”

  I’m shocked, he sounds genuinely apologetic. I go to place my hand on his arm as a way to comfort him but think better of it and take a step back. “It was an accident, could happen to anyone.”

  His eyes linger on my face for a long while, I look away not willing to decipher the emotion in them.

  “Gwen…” He lets out a breath and stalks from the room.

  What was he going to say? Probably apologize again or maybe a thank you.

  My thoughts don’t linger on this as I get back to the cleaning, my stomach rolls and turns as the baby tries to get comfortable. I pat my swollen tum affectionately and retire for the night.

  ******

  Nathan has left before breakfast, leaving me to deal with the delivery of my new laptop. I set it up immediately, eager to play. It’s a very good laptop I have to admit and obviously didn’t cost a small amount. This makes me feel even worse about my opinions on Nathan. Sure he may be moody and a bit of an introvert and sometimes rude, not to mention the fact he can be mean and tactless. But he’s trying to help, whether that’s due to guilt or loyalty to his brother, I don’t know. Either way he’s still helping and he’s still providing me with anything I require.

  When collecting the password from the fridge I notice Nathan’s mobile number underneath the pin. I set up the WI-FI and contemplate for a while on whether or not I should text him.

  I decide yes.

  Gwen: Thank you for the laptop. I
t’s great. G x

  He doesn’t respond, I don’t expect him to or need him to.

  I sit and have a cup of tea with Jeanine before she leaves and watch videos on YouTube. Funny videos that would crack even the coldest of souls yet none of them even draw a smile from me.

  I wonder if I’ll ever feel the same but then I realise I don’t think I ever want to. Gone is bubbly girl who smiled ate everything and in her place is the girl who found her fiancée dead beside her only five months before the arrival of their baby.

  I keep reminding myself that it has hardly been any time at all and grief takes time to settle. It’ll always be there but it will settle eventually. I’m still grieving… aren’t I?

  Sure I get sad when I think about him but other than that I don’t feel anything at all. Just this constant state of numbness.

  ******

  “I don’t agree,” I add to the conversation between myself, Paula and her friend Daisy who has met us for lunch. “The best unscripted ingredients are a dash of cinnamon and a spoonful of mayonnaise.”

  “Codswallop,” Paula waves me off. “Everybody knows if you warm the batter first and add nutmeg it tastes divine.”

  Jeanine chuckles, “Let’s agree to disagree.”

  It feels good to be talking about food again, it feels like it’s been years since I last attended University. In reality it has been a little over four weeks. It’s only been a little over five weeks since the love of my life died and I’m feeling something other than numb.

  It’s not happiness nor contentedness but it’s something above the darkness that I’ve succumbed to as of late.

  That’s not good… I think.

  It makes me feel guilty.

  I was happy over food. Out of everything I could feel about after his death, food would be it. Food has always been my passion. Cooking, baking, frying, stewing, the list is endless.

  Caleb used to love how excited I became when I successfully made a dish. Any kind. As soon as it was done I’d practically jump for joy, force it down his throat and pant at his feet until he told me how good it was. Sometimes I wondered if he just told me it was good so I wouldn’t get disappointed.

  Caleb wouldn’t do that.

  “What do you think?” Daisy asks me.

  I blink a few times and shake my head, “Sorry, I was miles away.”

  “We were talking about Nathan. Paula was just informing me of his rude behaviour towards her the other day. Is he like that with you?” Daisy asks.

  I shake my head, “He mostly just keeps to himself.”

  “It’s nice that he’s taken you in after Caleb’s unfortunate demise,” she says quietly and I want to walk away from this conversation. Like now. “It’s almost unheard of in this day and age. It’s very gallant of him.”

  “Especially considering his parents. Ugh. I had the pleasure of meeting his mother once. Foul woman, absolutely foul.” Paula adds with a cluck of disgust. “She used to be awful to those boys. They weren’t allowed to do no wrong.”

  “They grew up in the city,” I say but it’s more of a question than anything else. “How’d you know this?”

  Daisy leans in, eager to tell the gossip, “They did but Nathan also spent a lot of time here. The house you’re in now is the family home. It’s Caleb’s grandfather’s home. They came back and forth quite a bit. She usually dropped Nathan off when she’d had enough, which was more often than not.”

  “Yes,” Paula agrees, also leaning forward. “Nathan was unruly. He was a menace. Always causing trouble, always speaking badly to his grandfather. Caleb however, now he was the happy one although we didn’t see too much of him growing up. Always daydreaming, always smiling and playing. Such a lovely boy, he didn’t spend nearly as much time with his grandfather as Nathan did though.”

  “If Nathan hated his grandfather so much, why’d he claim his house?” Daisy asks the question I was thinking but wasn’t going to ask.

  Paula shrugs, “I’ve no idea. What’s it like inside? Are there still portraits on the walls?” I think about it for a moment, now that I am I realise I haven’t seen a single picture anywhere. How odd.

  “Hmm,” I agree and sip my decaf latte. “So, what is there to do around here?”

  “Not much.” And just like that the conversation changes to better things.

  Chapter Ten

  It’s the morning after my outing with Paula. I haven’t seen Nathan for a few days, he came back the Tuesday morning as he said he would and I borrowed his car to go out but that’s the extent of our conversation. I’m not sure what’s wrong with me right now. I’m in such a bad mood. Have been since I woke up thirty minutes ago. Even the fact that I can eat whatever I want for breakfast again without throwing it up doesn’t cheer me up.

  My movements are heavy because even my body is angry.

  I stomp into the kitchen and slam cupboards as I prepare food. Even the mushrooms are pissing me off. Stupid food. Stupid house. Why is everything hurting? I don’t mean my body, I mean my mind.

  “Morning,” Nathan says cautiously. I’m ignoring him. I’m ignoring everybody. “This looks good.”

  It tastes like ash and brimstone, what would you know?

  “Seriously good.” He moans a little and takes another bite.

  Why is he talking to me?

  I eat another mouthful of ash flavoured food. Huh, Jeanine is here, I didn’t notice. She eyes me warily, I barely glance at her as I pick up my plate (angrily) and walk past (furiously). I do notice them both exchange a look of concern, this just makes me worse.

  They don’t know me but I guarantee when my back is turned they’ll have quiet words and Nathan will probably blame myself and say its hormones. I’m not hormonal. I’m tired, my back’s hurting, I can’t get comfortable… and oh yeah. Caleb is dead!

  “Hey my darling,” Jeanine says and stands by the counter as I wash the dishes. “I think that plate’s clean now.”

  What would she know? Are her hands in the water? No. It’ll be clean when I say it’s clean.

  “Are you okay?” I nod and scrub the plate some more. Jeanine reaches into the hot water and takes the plate from my hand, “I’ll do this. Why don’t you go and rest?”

  “I don’t want to,” I snap, instantly feeling guilt but also not caring much.

  “Okay, why don’t you bake or something?” Her warm eyes search my profile, I feel her concern piercing my fury bubble.

  “I just want to be alone,” I say quietly and brush past her. “Sorry.”

  Their hushed tones follow me up the stairs, I can’t hear what they’re saying and honestly, I don’t care. As soon as I enter my room I put the photo frame face down without even looking at it. I can’t deal with your smile today, Caleb. Life isn’t always a fucking joy. Clearly.

  Look at me. I’m a mess. Pining for a man that’s ash on his mother’s mantelpiece.

  Not to mention that, I’m in a house that doesn’t belong to me, using money that I didn’t earn, from a man who practically hates me, because of reasons I don’t fucking know.

  There’s a knock at my door.

  “Go away.”

  “Is this mood due to something I’ve done?” Nathan starts but I’m not in the mood to hear him.

  I open the door, my eyes narrowed and hopefully shooting daggers, “Not everything is about you. Now leave me alone.” The door slams with a little more force than I intended.

  I take my usual spot by the window, only leaving my room to have a quiet lunch and an even quieter dinner alone.

  I wake up in the same mood and sleep in the same mood and again and again for the next few days. Fortunately everybody avoids me for these days. Nathan, when he leaves my new clothes outside of my bedroom, only knocks and walks away. I should thank him but I don’t know how.

  The clothes are great, all of them warm and all of them fit my swollen belly to perfection. They cheer me up a fraction, I won’t deny.

  I even have some new walking boots which I’m
grateful for but I’m also curious as to how he knew I needed some. Maybe he’s been paying closer attention to me than I thought.

  Sucking a long breath in, I shake my body loose and make my way downstairs.

  Nathan is sat in his usual spot at the end of the table, a bowl of cereal in front of him and one where I sit. He looks up gives me a nod and turns back to his book. “I didn’t think you were coming down.”

  “Me neither,” I sit and roll my spoon around the milk before taking a bite. “Where’s Jeanine?”

  “No idea, she didn’t show up for work this morning,” he responds but he doesn’t seem to care.

  “She’s probably sick.”

  “Either that or she’s about to stage an intervention.”

  “What?” I look up as he places his book down and his eyes come to mine.

  “You need to see a therapist.”

  My voice is shrill this time, “What?”

  “We’re concerned for your mental health. You haven’t left your room in three days. Only to eat and use the facilities.”

  “So?” I gawp at him, my earlier anger returning with force.

  He leans back in his seat, “It’s not healthy.”

  “You do it all of the time,” I snap and push away from the table. “I don’t want to hear this.”

  “Go and get dressed, you’re coming into the city with me today,” he states and his tone tells me there’s no argument.

  “I don’t want to.” But I argue anyway.

  “Either go upstairs and make yourself presentable or I’ll drag you to the city looking the way you do now.”

  “What’s wrong with how I look?” Arrogant arsehole!

  “You look like you’ve just rolled out of bed.”

  Well… I have. Who cares?

  He gives me another pointed look, I groan with exasperation and leave the room muttering, “I’m going, I’m going.”