Bent not Broken (351 page)

Suddenly, like the cork on a champagne bottle, my cork popped and the words came spewing out. “Don’t do what, Graham? Don’t stop taking care of you? Don’t stop doing your laundry and cooking for you while you sit around watching television? Don’t stop taking care of the bills, going to the grocery store, and cleaning this house top to bottom while you sit in the recliner with the remote and your laptop, doing whatever the hell you want? I’m done with that life, Graham. I have done everything for you and gotten nothing in return. I have given all I have to give. I was supposed to be your wife, not your servant!”

Graham looked hurt—remorseful. He whined, “I’m sorry Salem, okay? I’m sorry! I didn’t know how good I had it until I lost you. I’ve been a wreck since you left, and then I see these pictures while I’m standing in line at the store and I lost my mind. I can’t do this anymore, Salem. I need you.” He took two steps toward me, closing the gap between us. Reaching up, he held my face in his hands, cupping my cheeks. Leaning in, he whispered, “Please, Salem. I need you.”

I didn’t need this. I was trying to savor my amazing night with Chris. I didn’t need Graham waltzing back into my life and sucking me back into this toxic marriage, like he’d tried to do several times before. “Don’t…” I said, shaking my head. “I can’t. I’m sorry.” I stepped back, peeling his hands off my face as if they were leeches.

“Dammit, Salem.” Graham gripped his fists by his side, looking sadly around at the living room that once belonged to
us
, before the divorce. “You’ll regret this. One day you’ll look back on us and you’ll wish you hadn’t done this.”

I stared at him. At one point in my life I did love him. I loved him with everything I had in me. We got married because we’d created our beautiful daughter, Alexis, and wanted to be a strong family for her. But, even from the beginning, our marriage was off balance. I remember those long nights, struggling with Alexis to sleep. Graham never once offered to help out…never once shared the duty. Even after being rushed to the hospital after passing out from severe fatigue and dehydration, I still came home to the same scenario. I had grown to hate him. His selfishness carried over into many other aspects of our lives together, starting with his secretary. The day I found out he was cheating was the day I couldn’t live with him anymore. I wouldn’t choose to stay with a man who never put his wife before himself. I wanted to be cherished, not used.

I shrugged, “Maybe…but I doubt it.” Then I added, “You know, I still remember the night I came home from the hospital after passing out at work. I sat in that rocking chair at three in the morning contemplating suicide while you slept soundly in our bed. Not once…not one single
fucking
time did you offer to get up with Alexis so I could get some doctor-ordered rest. You just let me suffer…alone.” I shook my head, still reeling over the fact that I’d stayed with him for far too long. “Nope, trust me. I’ll never regret leaving a man who wasn’t there for me when I needed him the most.”

Tears welled up in his eyes. Graham shook his head as if he couldn’t believe that I was serious. “Well, you know where to find me if you change your mind...” With that comment, he whirled around and stalked out the door, leaving the pictures of me and Chris sitting on the coffee table.

I could barely look at them—the fuzzy, out of focus pictures of Chris and me sitting at the tiny table at Acropolis Grill. That was just the beginning of those glorious but uncharted emotions that had me reeling for days. The attraction I’d been fighting was something I never in a million years expected, and I was still trying to figure it all out. But, that night at his apartment was engraved on my heart. I would never forget those moments alone with Chris, where I found myself having feelings for him I never thought imaginable. And the worst part was that I hadn’t stopped thinking about him since that night.

I take that back.
The worst part was that I hadn’t heard from him again since that night. I plopped down on the sofa and pulled the stack of tabloid magazines into my lap, glancing at the headlines.

Chris King’s Mystery Girl?

One Night with a King?

A Rock Star Playboy with a Girl in Every Town?

****

Almost a week had passed since that night with Chris. I’d almost given up hope from hearing from him, assuming he’d changed his mind about keeping in touch. I felt silly for feeling attracted to him. Obviously, the attraction wasn’t mutual, and I felt stupid for misinterpreting his words, his actions…that hug. I guess in his mind, it was just a nice meeting with an old friend and nothing else. I couldn’t help my disappointment.

I sat in my car outside the dance studio, waiting for Alexis to get finished with her hip hop class. I was fooling around with that addictive candy game app when my phone alerted me with an incoming text. I assumed it was Alexis letting me know she’d be a few minutes late. But the moment Chris’s number popped up on my screen, my heart jumpstarted in my chest.

It simply read,
Thinking of you.

I died. Not literally, but the feeling I got reminded me of a giddy teenager.

I texted back.
Thinking of you too.

And that was that. I didn’t hear from him again for another three days. The silly teenager in me continued to check my phone constantly. Every time I’d swipe the screen I’d reprimand myself.
Grow up, Salem.

It was a long three days of ridiculous vigilance. I tried to stay busy with work and Alexis’s after school activities, but I still couldn’t stop thinking about that text or when I would hear from him again.

I stood at the sink washing dishes when Alexis came barreling down the stairs. “Mom, you left your phone in your bedroom and someone is blowing it up!”

I turned, looking curiously at her. “Blowing up my phone?”

“You know,” she said, rolling her eyes as she held out the phone to me, “texting you a lot.”

I quickly dried my hands on a towel and reached for it, eager to know if this is the text I’d been hoping for. Swiping my finger to unlock it, I saw that I had three text messages…all from the same person—
Chris!

Sorry I didn’t text you back sooner.

Busy on the road.

Hope you’re having a great week. Talk soon?

I sighed. After three days of non-stop daydreaming, his cryptic messages were a bit of a letdown.
Ugh. Men!

Wonderful week. Yes, let’s talk soon
, I texted back.

Great! Tonight?
he immediately responded.

Yes!

Alexis cocked her head. “Who was it, mom?” she asked curiously, eyeing the grin I was trying to contain.

I tried to sound casual, but I’m pretty sure it came out more like a squeal. “Chris.”

Her response actually did come out like a squeal. “Chris King? Oh my god, Mom, that’s awesome! What did he say?”

“Nothing much. He wants to talk later tonight.”

She raised her eyebrows at me. “Mom,” she teased, “you’re totally crushing on him!”

“Oh my god, no,” I said, shaking my head, certain I couldn’t convince her if I couldn’t convince myself.

Her blue eyes twinkled. “Oh yes you are,” she nodded knowingly.

“Alexis Caroline, I so totally am not,” I grinned, having thrown her girly teen-speak back at her.

“Oh, for sure, you are. Trust me.”

I chuckled. “Famous last words,” I said with a wink. I’d used the ‘famous last words’ line on her so many times in her life I couldn’t keep count. Every time she’d say ‘Trust me, mom,’ I’d break out that mantra. She always had the same response.

“Ugh,” Alexis groaned dramatically, flipping her brown hair over her shoulder, “I can’t talk to you.” She spun around laughing, and traipsed back upstairs to her bedroom.

I giggled, knowing we’d just bonded a little more, even if she did roll her eyes and leave. I stared at my phone as the question of ‘Tonight?’ glared back at me.

I finally texted back.

Looking forward to it.

I finished washing my dishes with a slaphappy grin on my face.

****

Later that night, Alexis was holed up in her bedroom, and I was just settling down into my bed with my e-reader when my cell phone rang.

I answered before the first ringtone played completely through.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Salem,” Chris’s smooth voice poured through the phone.

“Hi.” I was smiling ear to ear and wondered if he could hear it.

“It’s good to hear your voice finally,” he sighed, sounding tired. “It’s been a long fucking week.”

I couldn’t decide, by the way he said it, if the week was long because he’d been busy or because he’d waited so long to hear my voice.

“It’s good to hear your voice too,” I admitted, feeling a little bashful. “So, how’s life on the road?”

“Eh, it sucks sometimes, but for the most part we have a pretty good time. How have you been?” he asked.

“Pretty good. Same old, same old…” I struggled to find something interesting to say about my everyday life, but couldn’t find the words. Life as a rock star seemed much more intriguing. “So,” I said, changing the subject, “what’s it like, always on the go, traveling the States?”

Chris exhaled sharply. “Honestly, I’m exhausted. And I’d love a home cooked meal...specifically breakfast. You just can’t get a good homemade biscuit with gravy…or apple butter…or fried livermush through a drive-thru.” He thought for a minute, as if he were savoring the memory of a home-cooked meal. “Oh, and sweet tea…Damn, I’d kill for some good old fashioned sweet tea right about now. You know, the kind that steeped for hours on my grandma’s back porch.” He paused. “I guess, other than that, I can’t complain.”

“Glad to hear you’re making the best of it. You know, if you’re ever down this way, I’ve got your home-cooked meal covered,” I offered without thinking. I was pretty decent at cooking, but I was certainly no pro. I hoped Chris’s expectations weren’t too high.

“Really? I could definitely go for that,” he agreed, sounding thoroughly pleased. “We’ll be heading that way in a few weeks. Passing through Charlotte on our way to Atlanta. You game?”

“Absolutely! I’d love to see you…I mean, cook for you.” I suddenly felt like an idiot for jumping the gun.

He sounded excited. “Great! It’s a date.”

His words put my mind at ease. I loved the way he used the word ‘date.’ He probably didn’t actually mean
date
, but it sounded good anyway. My heart galloped in my chest at the thought of seeing him again.

“I look forward to it. So, you want breakfast, huh?” I asked him thoughtlessly. Just then, it hit me.

Oh god, I hope he doesn’t interpret that as meaning breakfast in the morning…after he spends the night!

I immediately tried to correct myself. “I mean, for supper…breakfast as the meal…at night…” I stuttered, digging myself deeper into a hole.
Just let it go, Salem.

He laughed, amused by my stammering. “I’m not picky. Trust me.”

“Famous last words,” I murmured, knowing he wouldn’t understand my inside joke with Alexis.

Graciously trying to drop it, he suggested, “Just surprise me.”

“You got it.” I couldn’t help but smile thinking of the fact that I would get to see him again in a few weeks, and he’d be eating at
my
table with
me
. And then the smile vanished, remembering my place. Former counselor.

“Well,” he asked, changing the subject, “what have you been up to lately?”

“Just busy with work. I got a new client this week, so I’ve been busy with intake stuff. And, of course, Alexis keeps me burning the roads with school and dance. The busy life of a teenager. She keeps me on my toes.”

“I bet,” he said, sounding genuinely interested.

“How about you?” I asked. I wondered if he’d start spouting off about the number of women who’d thrown themselves at him this past week. It was all over social media.

He suddenly sounded distracted as he rambled, “Eh, I’ve been busy. We play shows three to four nights per week. It’s rough sometimes, and this rat trap tour bus sucks ass sometimes…shut up, Jeremy…but we manage. Sorry, my asshole drummer is annoying me.”

I could hear Jeremy in the background making lewd remarks.

I laughed, reminded of my own younger brother and the way he used to pester me while I was on the phone. “You sound like brothers.”

He laughed. “Oh, we are. And I’m getting ready to kick his ass like the
big
brother that I am,” he said pointedly at Jeremy. “Go away, dude.”

I heard Jeremy through the phone, “Who are you talking to?”

“It’s Salem.”

“Salem?” Jeremy asked. “Does Salem want your dick the way Amanda does?”

“Shut the fuck up, bro,” he snapped.

“Amanda?” I teased, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Chris sighed. “He’s just being a dickhead. There is no Amanda. He’s just messin’ with you.” Turning his attention to Jeremy, he growled, “Get out of here, asshole!”

I heard Jeremy’s muffled laughter as Chris tried to move to a more private area to talk.

“Sorry,” Chris apologized. “He’s already drunk. We have the night off, and he’s just getting started.”

I remembered my college days and how much fun we had partying on Thursday nights. Wow, to have that kind of freedom again. I wasn’t sure at my age if that would be a good thing or a bad thing though. I guess, in some ways, both.

“It’s okay,” I assured him. “I understand. You live the ultimate party scene as a celebrity rock star.”

Sounding bored by it all, he said, “Yeah, things can get kinda crazy around here sometimes.”

I chuckled, just in case I’d misinterpreted his tone. “I bet so. I remember my college days well. Now I just lead this boring life, day in and day out.”

“I think that’s why I envy you.” His voice was low, soft and personal.

It shocked me. “Envy me? There’s nothing spectacular about my life. I can assure you.”

He sounded wistful with his response. “Yeah, you’re settled down. You have a steady job, a house, a home-cooked meal every night…That sounds like the fucking life.”