Tears of the Broken (Dark Secrets)

by A. M. Hudson

“You’re going to be okay, Ara,” Vicki said from beside Dad, holding an umbrella over me while she dripped with rain.

  I touched my hand to the back of my head and pulled out a piece of grass. “Did I hit my head?” It’s pounding.

  Dad nodded. “David caught you, but he was a fraction of a second too late.”

  “He only stepped away from you for two seconds to place a rose into the er…and you fell,” Vicki added.

  “I must admit, though—” Dad half laughed, “—he made it to your side quicker than I’ve ever seen anyone move. I almost didn’t see it, myself.”

  So he didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye to Nathan—because of me. Why did he catch me? He should’ve let me fall.

  Dad whispered something softly to Vicki—something ending in the word David. My ears pricked up.

  “Is he—” I hesitated, “—is David mad with me?” I can’t look at Dad. I feel so ashamed of myself.

  Dad’s head moved slowly to look at Vicki again.

  “Ara, why would he be mad with you? You didn’t mean to pass out,” Vicki said.

  They won’t understand, so I said nothing else. Dad placed me in the back seat of the car, and the door swung open on the other side. “I’m fine, Vicki, you can sit in the front with Dad,” I started, but my eyes fell on something magnificent. “David?” That’s it. That’s the last straw. My face crumpled and fell into my hands. How can he be here? How can he look at me like that; so concerned, so worried? He should be worrying about himself. Not me.

  I wanted to tell him to go away, but his arms, as they fell around me, pulling me into his cool, firm chest, held me so tight my body couldn’t shake. Even the soaking rain, making his suit icy cold against my face, couldn’t bother me. “Shh, sweet girl.” He stroked my hair, whispering into the top of my head, “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

  “No, it’s not.” I sobbed uncontrollably. “Nothing ever is.”

  “Don’t say that.” He slid down in the seat a little more and wrapped his arms tighter around me. “You mustn’t say things like that.”

  “Dad?” I lifted my head, speaking a little louder to project my voice over the heavy pounding of rain. “I’m so sorry—did she see? Did Mrs. Rossi see?” I started sobbing again and fell against David’s chest. He brushed my hair out of my face.

  “Ara, honey. Mrs. Rossi’s more worried about you, okay?”

  No! No, she shouldn’t be worrying about me. My head shook against my hands. What have I done?

  “Ara, please stop crying?” David pleaded softly and pressed his widespread fingertips over the side of my face.

  He smells so good, and he’s just so sweet. That rich, orange-chocolate scent, the scent that could only be David’s, matches his gorgeously gentle personality so well.

  My sobbing stopped short for a second when a loud rumble emanated from the ogre in my belly. Uh-oh, Dad heard that.

  “Ara? Did you eat breakfast?” Vicki asked in a high-pitched tone.

  David’s chest sunk as he breathed out deeply, pressing his cheek against my forehead. “No, she didn’t. Silly girl.”

  “Ara?” Dad sighed. “You know better than that. What were you—” He stopped, almost visibly biting his tongue. “It doesn’t matter. When we get home, you need to go straight upstairs. Vicki and I will fix you some food and bring it up. Okay?” Dad looked in the rear-view mirror—more at David than me.

  I nodded, and David pulled me closer to his saturated shirt. We’re almost home now. The sweet smell of the frangipani trees in Mr. Herman’s garden scented the cold, wet air coming in through Dad’s window, and I breathed the last few minutes of David I will ever get.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Dad let David carry me upstairs, much to my disgust and against my very strongly worded protest. He walked with a smug grin on his face the whole way, carrying me with little effort—even less than my dad. I wonder if maybe I’ve lost weight somehow. Butterflies pulsed in my stomach as we glided up the stairs in one sweeping movement, and my heart raced under David’s cool breath as it brushed against my cheek. I wish he’d walk slower so I could stay in his arms longer.

  When we stepped into the warm, soft light of my room, a wave of relief washed away the tight feeling in my chest. David stood me on the ground and held me up with one hand as he pulled the quilt back on my bed with the other, then lowered me onto the pillow—smoothing the rain away from my legs before sliding my shoes off my feet.

  “Thanks.” I smiled down at him.

  “No worries.” David smiled back then turned and placed my shoes neatly, side-by-side, next to my bedroom door.

  Something clicked then—a memory—of waking to find myself warm and safe in my bed, instead of asleep at my dresser where I’d been crying.

  The air stopped flowing to my lungs for a second. It can’t be possible.

  Pieces of my life over the last few weeks started to fit together. That night, before David and I had the fight—my window, I shut it before I went to bed, I remember doing it. But it was open in the morning. The shoes, the way they sat neatly by my door. I assumed it was Dad—but what if it wasn’t? I know I’d never do something like that—not even if I was sleepwalking.

  David pulled the quilt up to my chin and frowned at my wide-eyed, open-mouthed expression. My fingers froze on the top of my quilt, clutching it tight enough for my nails to press into my palm through the fabric. He stood up, stiff and slow. I saw his throat move as he swallowed and looked over at the shoes. I looked at them, too.

  That’s all the confirmation I need.

  What do I do now? Scream or be relieved that I wasn’t, in fact, sleepwalking and placing my things neatly around my room?

  “I can explain.” David held a hand out, his palm facing downward.

  “You snuck…into my room?” I said, my tone layered with shock, disgust and fear. “Why? I mean—how did you get in here?”

  “I—” He stopped and straightened up suddenly, keeping his eyes on me. “Come in.”

  I looked at the door. “Did someone knock?”

  “Hey, honey.” Dad popped his head in, smiling widely at a plate in his hand. “I made you a salad sandwich.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” I forced a half-smile and looked at David, who closed his eyes for a second and pressed his lips together.

  Though I’m hungry and I feel pretty sick because of it, all I want is for my dad to go away so I can figure out what the hell David was doing in my room that night, and more embarrassingly, how long he’d been watching me. There’s just too much to think about right now.

  David moved away and leaned, with his arms crossed over his chest and a thousand thoughts dancing across his face, on the wall beside my door. Dad sat beside me. “Mrs. Rossi called—” Dad said, handing me the plate. “She asked me to tell you that she was overwhelmed with happiness to see you today, and not to worry about fainting, because if you hadn’t done it first, she would have.” Dad laughed softly. “And then she added that she wouldn’t’ve had a handsome young man there to catch her.”

  David’s shoulders lifted once as he chuckled.

  “I told her I’d have caught her, but, apparently—” Dad looked a little solemn, “—I’m not a handsome young man.”

  I forced a soft smile. That was nice of her—of Mrs. Rossi to call. She’s a good person. But my embarrassing diving-to-the-soil act at the funeral is miles from my thoughts right now. All I can think about is that David snuck in to my room and put me to bed. I’m sure that’s all he did—he’s not a creep, and I really don’t think he’d do anything…creepy.

  David’s face softened when I looked back up at him. He’s very sweet. Okay, it’s creepy that he snuck into my room, but still very sweet. My vine-climbing Romeo.

  “Ara?” Dad cautiously waved a hand in front of my eyes.

  Clearing my throat, I looked back at him—at the smile badly masking his concerned face—and almost laughed. He’s secretly waiting for my meltdown, or at least some hys
terical crying. “I’m okay, Dad. Really. I guess I just need to eat.” I sat up in my bed and placed the sandwich on my lap.

  Dad smiled warmly at me, relieved, I guess, and nodded. “Okay. Now—” He looked at David, then back at me. “Do you need some time alone?”

  One of David’s brows arched up slightly. I know if I ask him to, he’ll stay. But that would be cruel when I can see he needs to leave—to go back to the funeral and be with his friends. Maybe I won’t ever know how he climbed into my room, or why—and maybe I’ll just have to accept that it’s over now and David’s moving on. I’ve taken up enough of his day. It’s time to say goodbye, time to follow the plan I set out to do this morning. “Just give me one second to talk to David, alone?”

  “Sure thing, honey.” Dad stood up and patted David on the shoulder as he passed,shutting my door behind him.

  The silence in the room hovered over the howling winds outside. David closed his eyes for a second as his chin rolled toward his chest. “Eat,” he said, out of the blue.

  My eyes narrowed and I bit my teeth together. Why should I?

  With a loud sigh, David dropped his arms to his sides then knelt beside my bed. “I’m not leaving until you’ve eaten something.”

  Keeping my eyes on him, I picked up the sandwich and tore a corner away with my teeth. “Happy?” I muttered with my mouth full, slamming the sandwich back down on the plate. Okay, so next I need to promise myself to stop being so moody at people all the time. I smiled at him, but it was fake.

  David nodded once, and the frown he wore erased the usual smile from his eyes. Everything about him seems odd without that smile. Empty, almost.

  “Okay,” I said, after I swallowed, “I’ve eaten now. I won’t keep you any longer.” The pain in my voice came out more resembling annoyance than the heartbreaking desire to beg him to love me. If only there was a magic rewind button for vocal chords.

  David sighed, and as he stood up, a pull of energy tore between us like a rope, tugging tight from around my chest—making my blood run cold under my skin. I wish I could change this. I wish I could just beg him to stay, but that would be cruel. He would stay, because he’s kind and he cares about people. But I have no right to him. David deserves better than this. Better than me.

  “What are you thinking?” David turned suddenly, his eyes reproving. “I just don’t understand you, Ara?” He stepped back to my bedside and dropped to his knees again with a scowl infecting his perfect face.

  “Me?” I sat up further in my bed. He can’t figure me out? He’s the one who decided to leave me—for my own good. He’s the one that pretended to love me to try to save me from a false assumption that I might kill myself, and he can’t figure me out? How exhausting. “David. Just go away. Please? You don’t have to feel like you owe me anything just because I’m sad and pathetic.” I threw my plate to the foot of my bed. “I’m tired, and I can’t fight with you anymore. I want you to go.”

  A soft snicker of a laugh came from his lips, and he stared at me, disbelief washing off the scowl. “Sad and pathetic?” he muttered under his breath. “Ara, is that how you think I see you?”

  My lip quivered, imprisoning the apology I’ve wanted to give him for days—the one I have no right to free my conscience with. “David, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know Nathan had died when I saw you on Tuesday. I wish I hadn’t been so horrible to you. I just—” I shook my head and fought with my tongue, softening my voice, “—I just want you to know that I’m okay, and you don’t have to force yourself to stay with me anymore. I promise I’m not going to do anything rash.”

  “Rash?” He frowned, shaking his head.

  “As in…I’m not going to ki—I, I mean, I’m—I’m saying that you’re free to go. And thank you—for being my friend.” I tried to sound convincing, but every word of goodbye stung the inside of my chest and brought tears to my eyes.

  David, kneeling beside me, motionless and stiff, stared ahead with his mouth hanging open a little. “Ara? I’m really confused.”

  “What? Why would you be confused?” I stifled the elevation in my tone; Dad will come in for sure if he thinks David’s upsetting me. How was that confusing? I was very straightforward. You are free. Just go. No ties left. Stop feeling bad, because you can’t save me from myself.

  David spun around and sat on the floor by my bed with his back against the mattress. He rested his hands on his forehead and his elbows on his bent knees. “Are you mad at me for sneaking into your room?” he asked, then turned his head slightly to the left, but didn’t meet my eyes.

  “No.”

  “Then, why are you mad at me? Why do you want me to go?” I heard his voice quiver on the end.

  “David, I’m not mad at you.” Why would he think I’m mad? “I want you to be happy. I figured it out, okay? You’re off the hook.”

  “Off the hook? Ara? What the hell are you talking about?”

  Obviously, he’s going to keep playing this game until the end. After a deep breath, I started my explanation, “Look, I know my dad asked you to keep an eye on me because he thinks I’m suicidal.” Though I’ve come to terms with the truth about David’s feelings for me—admitting it out in the open really hurts. “But Dad doesn’t know me very well. I would never be able to hurt myself. Okay? I’m not that strong. So, you don’t have to be my friend, anymore, just because he asked you to.”

  I hope he doesn’t hear the lie behind my strength—behind setting him free. He can go free, but somewhere, deep inside of me, he will always be locked away. I will never truly let him go.

  David shook his head slowly, and my shoulders lifted in preparation for the door to close behind him, but he slid up the edge of the bed and sat beside me, immobilising me with his intense gaze. “I think—” he took my hand and kissed it, smiling, still shaking his head, “I think we may have had a little misunderstanding here.” I marvelled at his gleaming white teeth and the way his eyes lit up from the corners, flooding his face with warmth. “So, you think—” he looked away and laughed, “you think I’m only here because your dad has you on suicide watch?”

  “You don’t have to pretend anymore, David, I—”

  “Did none of it count?” he cut in with a slightly agitated voice. “The kiss? The fact that I said I love you? Ara, when I speak,” he shook his head, “when I say something to someone, it’s never spoken lightly. I mean everything I have ever said to you. Why would you think all of that was fake?” One of his eyes lit up with a smile while the other narrowed in question.

  “I’m wrong?” Confusion thickened my tone like liquid-cement.

  He let out one short breath of laughter. “Ara. I can’t believe you. I would never do that. I said I loved you because I love you.” He shook his head and rubbed his chin. “You silly girl. Do you have any idea how much more I love you right now? All cute and vulnerable.”

  What a mess. “So—you’re not mad at me for yelling at you—you know, when Nathan died?”

  David stopped on his words for a second, his eyes playing out his confusion. “Ara, really? It would take a lot more than that to make me not want to be with you. Besides, I didn’t even know about Nathan until I got home that day. So, no, I’m not mad at you.” David leaned back a little then. “I walked away because you hurt me when you said those things—the fact that you could actually say them—even if you don’t mean them. It made me wonder if you really love me at all.” He moistened his lips with his tongue and let out a breath. “I’ve been in agony these last few days, and when I saw you this morning and you wouldn’t talk to me, I spent the whole drive to the funeral just trying to fight back the tears—”

  My heart melted; I grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “Oh, David, I’m so sorry. How can you possibly ever think I don’t love you?”

  “Because you said it, Ara,” he said, drily. “Words have meaning to me. I know humans have forgotten the power of their own vocabulary along the way, but I still value every syllable.”

  “I’m so
rry. I didn’t mean it when I said it.” My head shook slowly. “But I just don’t understand why, if you really do love me, why you made me fall in love with you? Why did you drag me through all this if you knew you’d have to leave eventually?”

  “I never planned on being this in love with you.” He took a breath and let it out, rubbing his brow. “I was very drawn to you when I first saw you, but I never imagined I’d consider giving up everything in my world just to be with you.” His eyes darted quickly between my lips and my eyes. “No one has ever affected me like you have.”

  “So, you wanted me for a summer romance? That’s it?”

  “At first.” He nodded. “I denied what I felt. I thought…I honestly told myself we would be nothing more than a fling.”

  “And now…?”

  “You know how I feel now.”

  I shook my head. “I can’t believe you risked my heart to satisfy your own.”

  “It doesn’t work like that, girl. You know that. You know how I feel about you.”

  “Do I?”

  “Oh, come on, Ara.” He rolled his head to the side. “I never meant to hurt you. But this, the fact that I must leave—it’s just a part of it—a part of my world.”

  “But if you knew that, then why would you say the things you said?”

  David’s eyelids dropped for a second. “Because, despite the facts about my troubled life, I still love you, and I meant everything I said to you. I got caught up in the romance, lost in the unbelievable feeling of being in love for the first time. I never intended to hurt you, but once I fell for you—really fell for you—I tried to hold back my feelings.” He smiled. “But you wouldn’t let me.”

  “So, this is my fault?” I folded my arms.

  “No.” He leaned forward and pried my hand from my elbow. “No, mon amour. I just meant that I couldn’t resist loving you. I honestly believed, when we first became friends, that I could be strong, that I could handle a whirlwind summer romance, and then, when the sun was long gone and the leaves turned brown—I would move on—and you would forget about me.”