A Million Pieces Novel – Austin walks toward me, but I back up with each step he takes. “I love you.” I wish I loved hearing him say that, but honestly, I don’t, not anymore. I laugh harshly. “No, you don’t. If you loved me, you wouldn’t have cheated on me. You know how I feel about that.” Tears burn my eyes, but not because of Austin because of him, but I push that right out of my head. Suddenly he pushes at my chest until I hit the wall, hitting my head on a picture frame. “You don’t fucking tell me how I feel.” My eyes widen in shock and suddenly fear flows through me. As many times as my ex-husband Hank and I fought, I was never scared of him. “Leave, grab your shit, and get out of my house.” I try to sound braver than I truly am. Everything happens so fast I don’t have time to react. The punch to the face stuns me. He knocks me into the wall again, and I fall to the floor as his foot connects with my ribs. After that, things become a blur.
Brooke I start my car as my phone pings. It’s Austin. Austin: I love you baby. My stomach twists into a knot because I wish I loved him. I’ve tried, I’ve tried so hard, but those feelings are just not there. It can’t be forced, and I don’t want to hurt him. He’s the first person I’ve dated in a very long time, and maybe I just wasn’t ready. But I also shouldn’t stay with him if I can’t reciprocate his feelings. I know he’s irritated that I haven’t said it, but I just don’t feel that way about him. I toss my phone in the cup holder with a sigh. I thought Austin was my chance at a do-over, but I’m quickly realizing he’s not—I’ve just been fooling myself. Hoping that I could feel for him the way I used to feel for…well, that’s not important. I’m just not quite ready to end this yet. Maybe I’ll fall in love with him—I guess only time will tell. *** Hank Burns is my ex—we began dating when we were just fifteen.
We got married when we were eighteen, and it imploded when we were nineteen. It was my first heartbreak and part of the reason I just can’t love Austin. I knew I should’ve avoided coming here. I hustle out of Fuel and pick up the pace to get to my car just in case he’s lingering somewhere in the parking lot. Once I’m inside my Camry, I reverse out of my parking spot and pull onto the street. I drive right past Hank and the boys, and I avoid looking in the rearview mirror. It’s been five and a half years, but the pain is still there like a scab that won’t fully heal because you keep picking at it. My heart rate slows when I finally pull into the staff parking lot and I’m able to relax. It’s four o’clock before I can finally pack up and head home. The grief I’ve fought long and hard to get over comes rushing back. I run into the bathroom, vomiting everything that was in my stomach back up.
When the retching stops, I lay my head on the toilet seat and sob. The tears dry up after a while, and I’m left with a horrible migraine. I grab one of my pills out of the medicine cabinet and quickly swallow it down. After I lock up, I grab my phone and crawl into bed. Austin’s with the guys, but I really need to hear his voice. It rings several times until he finally answers. “What is it?” Okay, I was expecting this response. “Brooke?” “Sorry, I…I just needed to hear your voice,” I choke out. I don’t want him to hear me crying. He always acts irritated when I cry, no matter the reason. “Come on, Austin,” I hear a feminine voice say. “We’re going to be late.” My stomach sinks, and I’m hit with the nauseating sense of déjà vu. I disconnect the call and then shut my phone off. Thankfully, soon my pill will kick in, and I’ll pass out. It’s pitch black when I wake up. My head is still throbbing, and I’m still nauseous. I check the time, it’s two in the morning, and make sure I can take another pill—thankfully I can, so I grab another one, swallowing it down. This is definitely not the way I wanted to spend my four-day weekend, but at least I’ll be sleeping and won’t have to think about what Austin’s doing or who he’s doing. I grab a bottle of water before climbing back into bed, slipping into oblivion.
It’s been a week since I heard a female voice when I called Austin. I haven’t returned his calls, and have worked very hard to avoid him. He’s shown up at the school twice, but they haven’t let him in. I am grateful to have the friends at school that I do, and they have let me hang out with them until I head back home every day. I’m not ready to talk to him, so I’ve gone into hiding, which is cowardly, I know. He knows about my trust issues and about my history, and I thought he was a good guy and that he respected how I felt.
Hank Tripp’s asleep the moment his head hits the pillow. I lean down and k-ss his forehead. This boy has turned me into the biggest vulva, but I mean that in the best way possible. I step out into the living room and take the beverage that Derrick hands me. “You’re a good dad—you know that, right?” I hold out my beverage to him, and we clink them together. “Thanks, man. He’s an easy kid—I’m lucky.” I scrub a hand over my face. “I didn’t tell you, but last week I saw Brooke.” “Really? Did you talk to her?” Derrick loves Brooke, but who didn’t? Back in the day, it was always me, Brooke, Derrick, and Riley, and we were thick as thieves. I shake my head. “The moment she saw me, she ducked into the bathroom, hiding until we got our coffees and were gone before she came out. She looked good, beautiful.” He nods, not saying anything because he knows how I feel about her. Luckily, he can read me, and he drops it. “Remember the chick I was banging last weekend?” “The redhead? Yeah, what about her?” He shakes his head. “I thought she was cool, man, but she’s turned into a stage five clinger.” Derrick groans.
“Why do I bring them back to my place? I need to just use my room at the clubhouse.” “I told you to stop doing that. I don’t ever bring anyone back here.” I love my best friend. He’s my brother, but he’s a serial dater, breaking hearts all throughout the Midwest. He’s been the cause of many, many cat fights over the years. Me, well, I’ve always been a one-woman man, but I destroyed that. I didn’t just destroy it, I obliterated it. — Brooke My nerves are frayed as I wait for Austin to show up. Last night I unblocked him and sent him a text about picking up his things. He called me, and I answered, but only to tell him to come over get his stuff today. He shocked me by screaming at me and had the nerve to call me a wanker. I quickly hung up and texted him what time to be here and then I blocked him again. Riley didn’t want me to be alone and wanted me to ask Derrick, her cousin, and at one time, one of my best friends, but I told her that I could handle it. I’m still not sure why he got mad at me—he’s the one that obviously cheated on me during his “guys” weekend. I continue to pace until I hear his car pull up.
I shake my hands out as I watch him through the front window. He looks pissed, but I don’t care. He doesn’t bother knocking, he just walks right in. “You done avoiding me?” I shake my head. “I wasn’t avoiding you. I just needed some space.” “You didn’t even let me explain. What you heard was nothing. She was nothing. I swear to you.” Austin walks toward me, but I back up with each step he takes. “I love you.” I wish I loved hearing him say that, but honestly, I don’t, not anymore. I laugh harshly. “No, you don’t. If you loved me, you wouldn’t have cheated on me. You know how I feel about that.” Tears burn my eyes, but not because of Austin because of him, but I push that right out of my head. Suddenly he pushes at my chest until I hit the wall, hitting my head on a picture frame. “You don’t tell me how I feel.” My eyes widen in shock and suddenly fear flows through me. As many times as Hank and I fought, I was never scared of him. “Leave, grab your trash, and get out of my house.” I try to sound braver than I truly am. Everything happens so fast I don’t have time to react. The punch to the face stuns me. He knocks me into the wall again, and I fall to the floor as his foot connects with my ribs. After that, things become a blur.
Hank I tighten the handlebars and grab on to them, making sure the placement is right. Next, I work on hooking up the clutch levers and the brake lever. I run the cables down, securing them to the frame. This has been the longest week, Tripp’s been grumpy—twice he’s woken me up, crying in bed. He’s asleep when he does it and in the morning, he doesn’t remember it. His pediatrician says it’s normal and if Tripp was in no pain, that it was okay. Last night I crawled into bed with him and held him just to ensure that he felt safe. I’ve had nightmares myself lately. He’s with my mom today, and since he got a good night’s sleep, I hope he’s in a little better of a mood when I pick him up. I wipe off my hands and head into the breakroom to grab a soda. That first sip tastes really good right now. It’s hot and humid in the garage today and I’m a hot, sweaty mess today. I grab a towel and wipe my face off. I slam down the rest of my drink and then toss the can into the recycle bin. Derick, Dad, and Max stand together near the open bay doors. I don’t like the look on their faces. “Hey, what’s going on?” “Your mom just called.”
Oh, my stomach turns. “Brooke’s at the house.” “What’s wrong with Brooke?” I step closer to Dad. “Where’s Tripp?” He puts his hand on my shoulder. “He’s with Carrie.” That’s Max’s old lady. “Your mom dropped him off there when Brooke called her.” Dad leans in. “Her boyfriend screwed her up pretty bad.” That’s all he has to say before I rip off my coveralls and run toward my bike. I ignore everyone calling for me and race toward my parents’ house. I slow my bike to a stop and hop off, running toward the front door. I step inside and my mom comes racing out from the hallway. “W-What are you doing here?” I walk past her with her calling my name. When I reach the closed door, I open it stepping inside. Brooke flies up in bed, scrambling off. Rage fills me as I take her in.
Her eyes are black and blue, the right one is swollen shut. I see she’s got stitches in her lip. I step toward her, but she holds her hand out. “Stay back.” “Hank, leave her alone,” Mom says from behind me. I ignore her and step toward Brooke. “That piece of Austin do this to you?” “It’s not your business,” she hisses. I lean in. “It is my business. You’re my wife,” I roar. “Hank. I was no longer your wife the moment you stuck your shaft in someone else,” she shouts, then slaps me. She then rushes past me and runs into my mom’s arms as she cries. My stomach sinks and shame fills me. The same way it does every time I think about it. I don’t know if it’s better or worse that I was blackout drunk and don’t even remember sleeping with Tracey. As much as I want to regret it, because I do, I can’t fully, because I wouldn’t have Tripp I just wish he had a different mother.