Bent not Broken (358 page)

I looked up at the elderly lady sitting beside me. A pale, blue pair of eyes and a bobbling head of white hair greeted me with a sympathetic smile.

Nodding my head, I replied, “It sure is.”

“Honey, don’t I know it.” She waved a wrinkled hand at me. “I remember when I was twenty and my Robert was leaving for the war. It was one of the hardest days of my life.” She patted my shoulder. “Sweetheart, you hang in there. You’ll see him again soon. Probably tonight when you close your eyes to go to sleep,” she said with a knowing wink.

“No doubt,” I sighed as I buckled my seatbelt and sunk tiredly into my seat.
No doubt.

The sweet, little lady reached over and squeezed my hand. “Hang onto those dreams, honey. Never let them fade. Dreams are all I have left in this world of my precious Robert.” She clutched a tight hand to her chest, fondly staring off into the distance.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

She smiled reassuringly. “Oh no, honey. Don’t you feel sorry for me. Robert was the best thing that ever happened to me. We had a great life together. My sweet boy, Robbie, was born nine months later, so when Robert came home after his tour, we began our lives as a family. Now, I’m not saying everything was perfect. Lord knows we had our struggles, stubborn ass that he could be sometimes.” She smiled thoughtfully, chuckling at her own brutal honesty. “Robert passed away about five years ago. Dreams just help me keep on living that happiness over and over every night. No, ma’am, don’t you feel sorry for me for one second.”

I smiled. “Maybe years from now I’ll be in your shoes, giving that pep talk one day.”

She leaned over my shoulder, peering at the screen in front of me through her reading glasses. “About him?” she asked with a mischievous grin. “I’d say so.”

I laughed. “You never know…”

Just then, one of the flight attendants walked by, asking everyone to turn off their cell phones. I stuffed it into my purse, laid my head back against the seat, and closed my eyes.

****

CHRIS

I left the airport with my stomach in knots. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. The feeling in the pit of my stomach when I was with her…it was unlike anything I’d felt before. I couldn’t explain it. This was not the desperate ‘I can’t breathe without you’ kind of feeling I had for Kaitlyn. No. This feeling was different. I didn’t know what to call it yet, but there was something about Salem that made me want to spend every moment I could with her. Salem made me feel…
me
again. I could be myself around her. I didn’t have to pretend…

Which led me to my next realization…I had to tell her. I needed to talk to her about the kid. I knew some people would think I was crazy. Hell, maybe I really was out of my head. I mean, I wasn’t even sure he was mine, but if I wanted to be with Salem, I wanted to make sure there were no secrets between us. She needed to know. Maybe she could help me shed some light on the situation.

I saw that kid at the grocery store for the first time, and I swear it felt like I was looking in the fucking mirror. The thought of walking away from a child that could be mine left me feeling a little hollow. I knew it was the right thing to do though, as hard as it was to let go. I saw that sweet little boy smile up at his dad with complete adoration in his eyes. I never wanted to do anything to change that. To see her family so happy, I just couldn’t be the asshole to step in and stir up a shit storm that could possibly tear that little boy’s whole world apart…or Kaitlyn’s. Her family was her life. That much was obvious by the smile on her face and the way she looked at her husband with respect and admiration. It just wasn’t in me to barge into her life and demand answers that could possibly turn her whole world upside down. I didn’t want to hurt her like that. So instead, I hurt me.

I walked away without any answers so that she could be happy. That’s how much I fucking loved her. I just hoped the trust fund was enough to show her that I knew and that I cared. I wasn’t just walking away because I was a dickhead. I walked away because I couldn’t bear the thought of tearing her down by ruining her family. I couldn’t be a part of her life, but I could help provide for those boys’ futures. And if one of those boys just happened to be my son, then I could live peacefully, knowing I’d done right by him. He had a family—a mommy and a daddy who loved him very much. Then there was me, who he might never meet again—who may or may not be his biological father—but who loved him enough to help take care of him in his own way. A way that he, nor others, would ever truly understand unless they were in my shoes. I just hoped that Salem could see the situation through my eyes.

I plopped down into the backseat of Vance’s car. He was silent for several minutes while I sat there quietly, watching the scenery blur past the window.

Thoughts of Salem seeped into my head. She was fucking amazing. My admission of that fact stabbed me right in the chest, and suddenly I felt as though my heart had betrayed me. Kaitlyn was the only woman I’d ever loved. I hadn’t opened myself up for anyone like I had for her. I hadn’t let myself become as vulnerable for anyone like I had for her either. And then there was Salem, who marched back into my life unannounced and stole the very breath in my lungs on more than one occasion. It was scary, but it was fucking incredible. I didn’t really know what to think or how to feel.

All this time I’d thought there was only room in my heart for me to love one person. I was wrong. Just because I’d let go of one love didn’t mean I couldn’t open myself up to love again. Just because I’d allowed myself a little happiness after a soul-crushing loss like that didn’t mean my heart was betraying me. It just meant that I was moving beyond the pain of the past. It meant I was letting go, giving myself permission to find love again. It could happen. It was happening. It was so fucking beautifully tragic.

Vance’s voice jarred me from my thoughts. “Boss, you okay?”

“Oh, uh, yeah…” I stammered.

He watched me through the rearview mirror. “She must be somethin’,” he speculated.

“Yeah,” I nodded, already missing her. “She is somethin’.”

Vance and I spent the rest of the ride back to the hotel in silence. I needed to get my head in the game. This was a huge trip to New York. We were playing Madison Square Garden in just a few short days. We had meetings with our recording agents and marketing strategists. We had interviews on morning news shows and guest appearances on late night comedy shows. I needed to move past my spectacular weekend with that incredible woman and gear up for a busy week.

Chapter Twenty-One

SALEM

A couple of weeks had passed since our trip to New York. Chris had been traveling the northeast, selling out show after show. Each night that passed was another night that my longing for Chris grew exponentially. In some ways, I welcomed the feeling, but in other ways I kept my heart guarded. After all, he was still considered a rock god among the ladies, many of whom were more than willing to take advantage of any opportunity to spend time alone with him.

However, each night that we spoke on the phone, my apprehension momentarily disappeared. There was just something about his soothing, melodic voice and our deep conversations that put all of my fears at ease.

“I want to know more about you, Salem,” his voice poured from the receiver late one night. “I want to know everything.”

“Like what?” I asked, wondering what I could possibly tell him that he didn’t already know.

“I don’t know…your hopes, your dreams, your fears. Anything.”

“Ask me whatever you want,” I urged. “I’m an open book.”

He paused for a moment, “Okay, where do you see yourself in ten years?”

I thought about it, mulling the question over in my mind. “Hmmm, I think I’d like to see myself opening my own counseling center. By then, Alexis will be in her twenties. She’s considering going to college to study speech therapy or something along those lines. Maybe we’ll work together someday, providing services across the board.”

“Sounds like you have it all planned out,” Chris said. I wondered if he was thinking about where he fit into my plan.

“Pipe dreams,” I sighed. “Working for a non-profit agency like the pregnancy care center, I’m sure I’ll never make enough money to start up my own business.”

“You never know. Someone once told me to never give up on my dreams.” I almost heard him wink through the phone. I knew he was talking about me.

I chuckled. “You’re right. I remember. Anyway, so what about you? Where do you see yourself in ten years?”

“Me? Well, I know this whole celebrity gig won’t last forever. Maybe I’ll open my own recording studio. Settle down. Have a family. I don’t know. This business is so
here and now
that it’s really hard to think about the future. Kinda scary, actually.”

Settle down? Have a family? Suddenly I wondered how I might fit into
his
plan and why he was so scared of it. “So, besides the future, what’s your biggest fear?” I asked, twisting a strand of hair self-consciously around my finger.

“Hmmm, snakes. I’m definitely scared of snakes.”

“That’s not exactly what I meant. I mean…what are you
really
afraid of?”

Chris sat quietly for a few moments. Just as I was about to tell him that he didn’t have to answer if he didn’t want to, he piped up, “I’m afraid of myself.”

Himself? Why the hell would he be afraid of himself? “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m afraid of
me
…of screwing up…terrified of finding one glimmer of happiness in my life and doing something stupid to mess it all up, just like I’ve always done.”

“What are you talking about? Just take a look at yourself, Chris,” I told him, baffled. “Look at where you started and see how far you’ve come.”

“Yeah, I know. And I fight
every day
to stay here. I walk through life afraid of one wrong move that will take it all away. I just don’t want to end up…like my dad.” His voice was thick with sadness and fear.

I shook my head in protest. “But, his situation was different. Your dad did what he thought he had to do to provide for his family. He knew the consequences when he made those deals, never knowing which deal would be last…the one that would land him in prison.”

“Exactly,” Chris confessed. “I never know from day to day which mistake I’ll make to lose everything.”

“What are you talking about? You’re not a drug dealer.”
Are you?
I suddenly doubted everything I thought I knew about him.

“Of course not,” he said, putting my mind at ease. “I mean, I may not be doing anything illegal, but in case you haven’t noticed I’m a perpetual fuck-up. I mean, look at my history, Salem.”

“Your history doesn’t define your future, Chris.”
Unless you include me. And in that case your history with me could certainly define your future.
But I didn’t want to go into all that.

“I know,” he said quietly. “I’m just terrified of falling back into my old habits, my self-destructive nature…making poor choices that reap bitter consequences.”

“You won’t,” I promised.

“Yeah, but how do you
know
I won’t?” he asked, sounding desperate, like he didn’t trust himself.

“Because I’m right here,” I said softly, “to help you, support you, and encourage you. That is, as long as you want me here.”

“Honestly,” he whispered, “I can’t imagine it any other way.”

****

A few days later, Chris’s knock at my door startled me. I wasn’t expecting him so early. He had decided weeks ago that when he left Cleveland, he’d take I-77 instead of I-75 so he could swing through Charlotte on his way to Atlanta. Alexis just happened to be spending the weekend at her dad’s house, so it worked out perfectly.

I hadn’t had time to shower or apply my makeup or change clothes. I still had my hair up in the messy bun I’d slept in the night before. Half of the afternoon was spent trying to perfect homemade biscuits from scratch. He was so excited about this homemade meal that there was no way I was going to serve him biscuits I’d popped out of the can. I wiped my hands on my grandmother’s old apron, smoothed out my hair as best I could without a mirror, and headed for the door, heart racing.

When I reached the door, I glanced at my reflection in the window and almost changed my mind. No makeup, hair sticking out all over the place, and flour all over my face. He knocked again.
Dammit.
The hottest rock star on the planet was about to see me looking like I could turn Medusa to stone.

“Salem?” Chris’s muffled voice called through the thick, wooden door.

Shit.
Oh well. Now or never.

I reached for the knob, creaking the door open slowly while I peeked outside. Chris stood on my front stoop with a vase full of gerbera daisies.
My favorite!
I bit my lip, taking in his sexy sculpted pecs in that tight, thermal shirt, and then I remembered what I looked like.

Chris stood, dumbfounded, holding the vase in front of him and staring at me. I cringed, totally embarrassed.

I hooked a few stray strands of hair behind my ear, which immediately fell right back into my face. “I…I’m sorry,” I stammered, wrinkling my nose. “I didn’t get a chance to change before you got here.”

“Wow,” Chris responded with wide eyes. “You look…you look normal.”

I looked around, confused. “Thanks?”
Was that a compliment?

He cleared his throat. “No, I mean…you look amazing. Most of the girls I see are dressed to kill in their five inch stilettos and short, tight dresses, trying way too hard to impress the band, but you…you look…” He gulped and said softly, “like home.”

I peered up at him. His dark eyes watched me as I nervously twisted my apron around my finger.
Home? Home meaning…something he could come home to?
My knees almost buckled beneath me and my heart raced in my chest. “I…I’ve been making biscuits,” I said a little too brightly. “Breakfast for supper.”

Chris smiled warmly. “I can tell. You have some flour on your nose.” He tapped my nose, chuckling as he added, “And in your hair.” Reaching out, he swiped his thumb across my cheek. “And right there, too.”