Melted & Shattered (7 page)

Dinner was over, the kids were playing games, and I was finishing up dishes when Marcos popped his head in the kitchen.

“Wanna play Scrabble?”

I looked at him. I’d been lost in thought—yes, about mother fucking J—when he came in.

“The board game?” Marcos nodded. “Sure.” I needed to get my mind off J.

I sat down at the table with Marcos, Angelica, Genesis, and
Ramón. Angelica and Marcos were playing as a team. I wasn’t competitive about much, but card and board games were my weakness.

“Dude. Is it fair for Marcos and Angelica to be playing
together? They get two brains of ideas. We only get one,” I said pointing to my own head.

“We play Mexican style,” Marcos told me.

I raised my brows at him. “Mexican style?”

“Yeah. Pretty much anything goes. If you play a word and it’s not in the dictionary, we take a vote on if it’s fair play.”

I nodded at him, accepting his terms, and anxious to see what anything goes really meant. We started playing, and I quickly realized anything goes really meant
anything
. English, Spanish, Spanglish, slang, dirty words. No cuss words, but I had a feeling that was only because I was playing. I had to admit, Anything Goes Scrabble was way more fun than regular Scrabble. I was laughing my ass off at some of their words.

Angelica played the word TIN.
Ramón went next and added SOX to the end of it. TINSOX.

“No, no, no. There is
no such thing as TINSOX.” Marcos, the unofficial referee, declared.

Angelica chimed in, “Give him a chan
ce to explain. You know the rules. He explains. We vote.”

I loved how they had rules in this seemingly rule-less game.

“Fine,” Marcos said, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms across his chest. “Explain.”

All eyes were on
Ramón, and I wondered if he was starting to rethink his play. “Uh, like socks, you know, that are made out of tin?”

I broke out into
a fit of giggles. He was really stretching it with that one.

“Oh, hell no. Sorry, Elle,” Marcos said in regards to his cussing. (Hell? Really? I was OK with hell, but I
guess I wasn’t supposed to be.) “Vote,” Marcos demanded.

Marcos and Angelica voted no, which apparently counted as two votes despite the fact that they were playing as a team.
Ramón voted yes, which also surprised me that the person who played the word in question got a vote.

“Yes. Let him have it,” was Genesis’ vote.

It came down to me. I was the tie breaker. Part of me wanted to give it to him. Was it a word? Oh, hell no. Did I feel like he should score points for creativity? Absolutely. It was my competitive nature that won out in the end though.

“ERRRRRRR.” I made the sound of the big, red X on the Family Feud. “Not a word.”

“Yes,” Marcos said with a fist pump.

“You guys suck,”
Ramón mumbled, taking his tiles back.

“Sorry, bro. A+ for giving it a try though,” I told
Ramón, patting him on the shoulder.

We finished ou
r game, and I forgot all about Chris, J and my fucked up life. The kids were filing out the door, some to walk home, others taking a bus the Center chartered.

“You’ll be back next week?” Marcos asked.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” I told him.

“Good. We’re gonna show you how to play Uno Mexican style.”

“The card game?” I asked.

“Oh yeah.” Marcos rubbed his hands together. He was more competitive than me it seemed.

I said my goodbyes to Penny and told her I’d be back the next week. I went home with a bounce in my step, and feeling better than I had since before my fight with Chris.

I stripped my clothes off and crawled into bed when I got home. I was exhausted. I’d had fun with the teens, but I wasn’t running at full power. As I nestled into my sheets, my mind began t
o wander. I smelled the sheets, even though I knew they’d ceased to smell like him some time ago. I thought sleep would come quickly that night. I’d struggled Monday and Tuesday night to sleep. I thought my time with the teens and sheer exhaustion would have me passed out in a heartbeat.

I was wrong.

It seemed that the minute I slowed down and let my mind wander, it wanted to wander to the one place I didn’t want to go—J. Fuck. When the house was full of people, it was easy to ignore the thoughts that crept into my head about him. Now that I’d shooed everyone off, I had plenty of time to think. I thought about every moment I spent with J. Running though each second we spent wrapped up in one another. I thought about his promises to never hurt me. Most of all, I thought about the night he shot me.

I knew it was stupid to even begin to exonerate him. I knew he probably didn’t de
serve my forgiveness, but despite what I knew, my heart kept telling my head that it was an accident. A royally fucked up, hot ass mess of an accident. He didn’t know it was me. Everything happened so fast, and people I saw everyday often passed right by me when I had straight hair. Still... Did that make it forgivable?

“Well shit,” I mumbled as the first tear fell.

Chapter
7

The weekend passed in a blur. Some of the kitchen guys came over Friday before their shift to hang out. Jesse popped for pizza and they caught me up on all the gossip. For a bunch of guys, they sure did like telling me who was fucking who. The cooks fucked the servers all the time. I was the only one with the no sex at work policy. Probably because I was the only girl in the kitchen with all these horny boys.

Sunday, Aaron came over in the afternoon after his shift at the
restaurant. I’d asked him to take me to the grocery store. I needed to stock up the fridge, and Chris and I were still on nonspeaking terms. I didn’t feel like dealing with Larry, or else I might’ve asked him. Plus, I needed some of Aaron’s humor. He delivered, that’s for sure. He sat me on his lap as we drove around the grocery store in a motorized cart. Did I feel stupid? Yes. Did I laugh until my side hurt? Most definitely.

Aaron left and I thought for sure I’d fall right
to sleep. Nope. The tears became my enemy. We went to war each and every night. So far it was TEARS:6 and ELLE:0. It was in those quiet moments when I lay in bed that I couldn’t stop the thoughts of J and how much I missed him. Fuck it, if I was a dumb bitch for loving his ass. I tried for weeks to hate him to no avail.

The next week was more of the same. I went to
the Center on Wednesday, and with Genesis and Angelica’s help, was able to pull off hot ham and cheese sandwiches. Mexican style Uno was a blast. There was only one additional rule, if you weren’t paying attention and it was your turn, anyone could yell PENALTY CARD and you had to draw a card as well as lose your turn. They were serious when they said I could yell penalty card, and hell if I wasn’t yelling at them by the end of the game. It added a whole new level to the game. Not only were you strategizing your own hand, you were watching everyone else to try and catch them off in space when their turn came. Again, I laughed until my side hurt.

I wasn’t delusional enough to think that I would fall right into a blissful sleep when I got home, but I thought this might be the night I at least didn’t cry—and cue the Family Feud giant, red X. ERRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.

I didn’t know how to make it stop. During the day I was fine, even with Chris and me still not speaking. I hung out with people, and started driving myself around. I even cleaned the house, well, sort of, meaning I did a few dishes and vacuumed for five seconds before my side hurt. Eh, the carpet wasn’t
that
bad.

When night time came around, I couldn’t seem to hold it together, though. My mind whipped back and forth between Chris, J, and the guilt I felt surrounding both of them. I played the happy face off during the day, but it seemed that when the sun went down, so did I. And instead of getting better, each night seemed to get worse. The tears were
becoming uncontrollable. The harder I fought them, the harder they fell, as if saying
I’ll show you who’s boss
. I was no longer the boss, my emotions were. My head ruled the day, and my heart ruled the night. Fucking heart.

Friday I went to get
my stitches out. I drove myself since Chris was going to go with me, but—yeah, you know, she didn’t, so I went alone. The skin had closed up and the doctor told me to keep putting ointment on it and covering it as long as it was tender. I asked him if I could get it wet, to which he replied affirmatively. Thank God! I’d been taking some janky ass baths since Chris wasn’t there to help.

We were almost done with paperwork, when the doctor turned to me with a serious face. “Are you sure you don’t remember anything about that night? It’s been a month since you were released from the hospital. Anything come back to you in that time? Any memories at all of
being shot?”

Aw, hell. “Uh, no. Nothing.” Fucking
everything
had come back. At least everything about that night until I closed my eyes and let the darkness take me. I remembered looking into J’s eyes and realizing the man I loved, the man who promised to protect me had been the one to shoot me. I remembered fading in and out of consciousness and hearing him and Chris fighting. He still cared about me. I knew he did. I just couldn’t understand why he hadn’t called. My pride prevented me from picking up the phone to call him, not that I hadn’t thought about it a thousand times.

“Well, I’m going to have you sch
edule another appointment for six weeks from today. I’d like to check on how the scar looks then. Maybe you’ll remember something by that time.”

“Maybe,” I mumbled as he left the room, sending the nurse in to schedule the next appointment.

I left in a daze. I stopped at the liquor store and got a bottle of wine. I hadn’t drank alcohol since I’d been on antibiotics, and I was done with those and craving the dry taste of a Merlot or Malbec on my tongue. I vaguely recall the guy at my usual liquor store asking me questions about where I’d been. I couldn’t tell you what I answered. I think I decided on a Merlot, but it could‘ve been a Cabernet for all I knew. I felt like I was on autopilot.

I got home and opened the bottle of wine. The sun had barely set, and rays of purple and orange were coloring the sky. I sat
on one of my kitchen chairs, with the table pushed up against the picture window. I sat there watching the sun make the final leg of its descent while remembering doing the same with J. Only we watched the sun over the pond, my body cocooned for the first time in his. It got dark and I didn’t realize I was sitting in the dark. The streetlights had come on and provided enough light for me to keep filling my glass.

I lifted up my shirt and looked at the gnarly scar on my left side. It was a scar that would never let me forget the one man who made me feel safe. The one man who I gave my love to. The one man who managed to melt my ice. I curled my back and leaned forward, one hand still clutching my rocks glass of wine, and let go. My body quaked as silent sobs ripped though me. Tears fell
, like my eyes were the sky and it had opened up to let go a hurricane that rivaled Katrina. It tore through me, leaving destruction in its wake. My heart turned into New Orleans, and like then, FEMA was nowhere to be found. I felt empty, so why were there so many tears inside me, waiting to pour out at a moment’s notice? I laid my hand on the scar decorating my left side, and cried into the other hand. I gave up trying to fight it. I let my heart take over, and it was dying inside my chest.

“Elle?”

I pulled the hand away from my eyes and saw an apparition in front of me. I blinked a few times trying to get my bearings. I was drunk, but not drunk enough to see what I thought I saw. I gripped my glass of wine, looking to see just how much I drank.

“J? How did—what are you doing here?”

He knelt on the floor in front of me. Prying my hand off the rocks glass, he took it and the one that had fallen from my side into his own hands. Was he really kneeling in front of me?

“I have a plan. I need to tell you my plan so I can fix this.”

A plan? He had a plan to fix what? My fucked up life? My lack of a best friend? The hole in my side? I looked at him with wide eyes. “Plan? You have a plan?” I asked. I was no longer sad. I was suddenly filled with rage. I don’t know what I expected. An apology maybe?
Hey, sorry, I shot you in the side. Really, I didn’t mean to
. Not
I have a plan
. How did he think he was going to fix this? Had I really been crying for weeks over this man?

I shot up from my chair. Staring down at his kneeling form, I started shaking, rage was boiling inside me.

“Get out.” Now that he was here, I couldn’t stand to look at him. He stood up, but made no moves to the door. He reached out for my hand, but I pulled it away, like his touch would burn. I closed my eyes, trying to take deep breaths through my nose so I didn’t totally lose it. When I opened my eyes, he was still there.

I tried again. “Get out of my apartment.”

Again, he made no effort to leave. I shoved him in the chest, but he barely moved. The rage I’d used deep breaths to keep at bay came out with the vengeance of a woman who’d been shot by her lover.

“Get out!” I screamed, beating my fists against his chest. “Get the fuck out! Get out of my apartment you fucking bastard! Get out!”

He didn’t budge, so I pushed past him and started pacing in the living room. I fisted my hair, pulling it until it hurt. I was so conflicted. One part of me was irate at the man in front of me, while another part of me was irate with myself for still having feelings for him. I was smarter than this. I wasn’t a damsel in mother fucking distress. Yet, here I was, falling apart in front of his eyes.

“I’m not going to say I’m sorry
. Words like that can’t convey the level of remorse I have. I didn’t want you to find out, and in the end, you found out in the worst possible way.”

I
continued pacing circles in my living room. How could I be listening to him? How could I listen to a single word that came out of his mouth?

“I fucking kill people, Elle
. It’s what I do. It’s what I have to do. It’s kill or be killed. A year ago I was ready to die, but you shined your light on me. I can’t go back, baby. I can’t go back to the darkness. Please, Elle, don’t make me go back to the emptiness.”

His face was contorted due to horrific amounts of pain. His pain flowed through him, and it slammed into me. I felt my heart contract when he begged, “Please. I need you.”

“I can’t. I can’t, J.” I stopped pacing. Looking him in the eye, facing the damage that was my life, I pled with my own eyes. “It’s not me. Fucking kill me. I made peace with the universe a long time ago. You were going to shoot my kid.”

“I had no choice.”

“It doesn’t matter.” I ran my hand through my hair. “How can I love a killer?”

There was silence, deafening silence. I tried to keep it together. I used every ounce of energy I had to keep the fire at a low flame, but it blazed through me. He would’ve shot my kid, and I couldn’t let that happen. These kids, they’d become my lifeline. My light.

“Without those kids, I’m just as dark as you,” I said, not a drop of emotion in my voice. I was empty, despondent. These last few weeks of pretending during the day, only to come home and sob until sleep graced me was maddening. “I’ve got nothing left to give you, J. Nothing.” I hung my head, losing the fight with the tears that had been threatening to erupt since he arrived. “I can’t be your light, when I have none.”

I stood there, shattered, sobs shaking my body.

“I didn’t come here to apologize. I can never take back what I did.” J caught me in his arms, right before my limbs gave out on me and I crumbled to the ground. He pulled me to his chest. Rocking back and forth, he held my body while his own trembled. “I came here, baby, to tell you I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.”  He inhaled sharply, but said in an even voice. “And I can’t lose you before the greatest fight I will ever wage.”

A single tear fell down his cheek. With a cleansing breath, I wiped it away and implored, “How? How can you possibly fix this?”

“I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you everything. But please, don’t leave me. Not yet. Not before I have a chance to get out of the darkness and be your light. Baby, I’ll be the light for the both of us. Just promise me you’ll let me. Promise me you’ll give me a shot at redemption. Please.”

His voice cracked on the last words. Redemption. Could I absolve him? I lay in a hospital bed for two wee
ks, all of it at his hands. I’d been marred, though the scar on my skin was not the worst damage, it was a reminder of the scar I’d carried inside. Could he erase that scar? Could he heal a wound one could not see?

I looked up, my eyes a mess, r
ed rims and irritated skin. I’m sure I was a sight. “How? Tell me how you can fix this.”

I sunk into his arms, the fight leaving my body. I wanted to hate him, but couldn’t help letting him wrap his frame around me
. In his cocoon, a bear wrapped around a fawn, I waited for him to answer. I prayed for magic, to make this all better. I implored the eagle on his shoulder to guide us to the light.

We lay on the floor, two damaged bodies searching
for a beacon to shine down upon us, showing us the path to take. J pulled my head into his hands, bringing us face to face. I could feel his breath against my lips. “You were a comet, that bust into my life out of nowhere,” he whispered. “I begged for you. On my knees in the dirt, I groveled to the sky to bring me light. And there you were, at Eight Oh Eight, staring up at me, even though I knew you couldn’t see through the window. I saw you, though. Elle, I saw you long before you saw me.”

He pulled me tighter and I couldn’t fight it. My mind and body were exhausted from pretending I was OK. I wasn’t. Nowhere close. And to this man, the only thing that brought me
true comfort since I’d been home—to this man, I succumbed. I let his limbs enfold me and I just breathed. That’s all I could do. Just breathe.

******

I jerked awake. My heart was racing. I’d been dreaming I was running in the darkness, to nowhere in particular. I knew I needed to get away, so I ran. I brought my hand to my pounding heart, trying to take cleansing breaths to slow it down. I shook the fog out of my head, and my skin came back to life, recognizing the scent and feel of six feet, five inches of warmth wrapped around me.