Broken Read online

  It had come out after all was said and done that the affair was a well-known fact among their circle of friends. Everyone knew except the gullible unsuspecting fool who had put her life on hold for the man she thought was the love of her life and she his. He’d even talked her into putting off motherhood for a later time until he became established as a heart surgeon. She’d been so proud of him, of all his accomplishments and her part in all that, until the day she’d been served with divorce papers.

  It was as though they’d waited until they’d gotten all they could out of her, until there was nothing left to give, before striking. Had the blow been meant to kill? She sometimes wondered, because it had come damn close.

  She pulled her mind back from those dark days as she got to her feet and rinsed her mouth out in the rusted sink. “Don’t think Kerry, just move, please just move. Your life isn’t over; you still have breath in your body. You worked to put that ass through school-you can work for you. So what, you wasted ten years, you can’t get them back so there’s no use crying over it anymore. Pick your ass up and get it together girl.”

  This was the latest in a long line of numerous pep talks she’d been giving herself lately, designed to get her out of the doldrums. None of the others had worked to date, but she was holding out for that one breakthrough.

  She looked herself in the eye in the mirror over the sink, as she gave herself her little pick me up speech. If only she could find the strength to fight, but sadly she had nothing left. She’d been well and truly gutted.

  Leaving the stuffy little room that wasn’t even a fraction of the size of the absolutely gorgeous bathroom she’d decorated in her old home, she took a fortifying breath as she headed for the kitchen and a cup of coffee. Hopefully, she’d keep it down this morning.

  It was too depressing to look at the dingy walls with their grease stains and chipped paint, so sitting at the broken down table that the last tenant had left, she got pen and paper and started writing. It had been some time since she’d had any interest in writing anything. It had once been her joy, her passion, but Paul had called it a silly waste of time. So she’d shoved all her notebooks in a box and put them away never to be seen again.

  Now that she looked back she could see that Paul had always been a selfish, self-centered bastard. Everything they’d done together as a couple had been geared towards his happiness while time and again they’d put her wants and needs aside. And she’d gone along with it. The thought was humiliating.

  She’d gotten a job as a waitress in one of the better establishments in their small town where the tips were good, so they could afford to put food on the table while her new husband of whom she was enormously proud went off to pre med and then med school.

  Maybe she’d been too proud? Maybe she’d put too much stock in who he was going to be and that had blinded her to what he really was? She didn’t know anymore. All she knew was that someone else was living the life she’d believed would be hers and she was left an empty shell of nothing.

  They’d had so many plans. He’d promised that as soon as he started working, they were going to do all the things she wanted. The nice trips to Europe, the big house with nice cars, all the dreams young people have.

  In the end, he’d preferred to live that dream with someone else. If she could go one day without reliving it, that would be good. But it seemed the lack of closure was going to haunt her for the rest of her miserable life. “Pull it together Kerry, don’t think.”

  She forced herself to concentrate on what she was doing, and in just a few short minutes she was amazed. Her hands flew across the paper as the words poured out of her. It was almost unreal the way it came back to her-this love of writing. She settled into it and let the world fall away, her mind finally finding peace and solace in a new world of her own making.

  She sat there for hours not realizing the passing of time as she reacquainted herself with her once favorite pastime. By the time she was done, she’d written three chapters of a story and found her first smile in weeks.

  She didn’t dwell on the irony of writing a romance in the middle of her own personal hell. At least they hadn’t stolen that from her, that ability to dream, to believe in something even if it was only on paper. As for the real thing, love could go fuck itself.

  “Nope, not gonna go there. I’m gonna hold onto this little reprieve for as long as it lasts.” She made up her mind not to let the dark thoughts in today. Somehow, she would find the strength she’d been lacking for way too long now to pull herself up and out of the muck.

  Looking down at the papers in her hand, she grinned at what she’d achieved for herself. It was her first real smile in almost a year.

  Feeling revived and full of energy, she ran into the ramshackle bedroom and dragged out the old box she hadn’t looked through in too many years to count. She had sheets and sheets of paper in there, as well as back-up disks with all her work from years ago.

  Her high school literature teacher had once told her that one day she would make an excellent author, but she’d poo-pooed it away as just another adult being nice to the orphan. She was used to that.

  Her parents had died when she was just a child, too young to remember them. She was left to be raised by her grandparents, who had hung in there long enough to see her married right out of high school, before they too passed away within months of each other two years later.

  That’s what makes what she’d endured in the last year so heartbreaking. Paul had been the last link to her past. She had no one else, no family to turn to. He was all she had to hold onto in this world. Now she had nothing of her childhood left, nothing but harsh memories and sadness.

  They’d had such great times in the beginning. Back when they were young and innocent and he’d seemed so compassionate towards the girl who’d been orphaned, before she even knew what the word truly meant.

  She’d shared her hopes and dreams, her fears, all of it with him. He knew what being left behind meant to her and had promised never to desert her the way everyone else had.

  Words had been her only solace on those days when life became too much. When her reality became a dark hole that she couldn’t seem to climb out of. Even with Paul in her life back then as a young teen, she’d had her writing to keep her sane.

  She relived the memories as she went through the box now. Taking out the hundreds of stories she’d written over the years. Some of them had been pretty good now that she thought of it and she cussed Paul in her mind for yet another dream of hers that he’d stolen.

  Why was it only now that she so clearly saw just what a selfish prick he was? Why hadn’t she had this insight years ago before she’d wasted her youth on his undeserving ass?

  He’d stolen her life, taken away her every reason for being. Everything she’d found joy in he’d squashed in some way, or another, if it took her away from catering to his needs.

  It was so plain to see now, that this was where they were headed. What she’d excused as his commitment to his studies and later as him wanting to be the best at what he did, was in reality just plain selfishness and indifference. The cold bastard! He was nothing more than a bloodsucking user who’d stood in the way of her every dream for the sake of his own.

  “Well, there’s nothing stopping you now is there Kerry?” She latched onto the thought. Why not? Why not go after something for herself for a change?

  Though the thought of shopping around for an agent was daunting. She’d had enough rejection in her life and wasn’t looking forward to more. That one thought started the ball rolling and she was headed back to her daily depression just like that.

  She started to push the box back in its place at the reminder of what laid ahead if she took this path, but something stopped her. With her hand on the flaps of the box she begged for strength. She just needed that one little push to say ‘You can do it’.

  When was the last time she’d had that? Too many years to count. She was like a dried up vine searching for moisture in
the dark recesses of the earth. Only it was her heart and soul that needed feeding.

  “Well Kerry there’s no one. You have no one left to cheer you on so you’re just gonna have to do it for yourself.” She said the words out loud as if by putting them out there they just might work. She was tired of giving up on herself. What else was there for her to do? She hated the idea of starting over, and going back to school wasn’t very appealing.

  But did she have what it takes to make it if she ventured out into this new world? She didn’t know the first thing about publishing. Her mind had never got that far. What she did know was that it was supposed to be hard as hell to do. Her mind reeled back and away from something that had just a few seconds ago seemed so plausible. That’s the way it has been for a long time now. No hope.

  That feeling like Vesuvius was crashing down on her once again overcame her as she knelt there in the musty little room, and she felt the threat of the ever-present tears gather at the corners of her eyes. There was a pressure on her chest and a ringing in her ears as darkness threatened once again. It was always there, lurking, waiting to suck her under.

  Slumping down on the floor, she rested her head on her knees and tried to breathe through it. Every time there’s a glimmer of hope, something like this happens. Suddenly, she’s faced with all the reasons why she can’t achieve something. She had no drive left. The silly thing was, she could see this happening to her as if she were an outsider looking in. But had no will to stop it.

  She never knew life had so many stumbling blocks. It sure hadn’t been this hard when she was doing it for someone else. Oh no, then she was always gung ho; there wasn’t anything she couldn’t and didn’t do for him. She was Mrs. Invincible. Now she could barely summon the will to brush her own teeth in the morning.

  She picked her head up on that thought and gave the little spark of anger she felt free rein. Why is that she thought? Why had it been so easy for her to put her life on hold for someone else, sacrifice her time and energy for him, but now couldn’t find an ounce of interest in her own future?

  Where was that girl who believed so strongly in someone else’s dream that she’d fought for it? So what there was no one to fight for hers? So what she had no one in her corner?

  Didn’t the fact that she’d been so good at helping him find his happily ever after mean that she had it in her to do the same for herself? The hell if it didn’t. She’d be damned if she’d lay down like a dog and die because other people sucked. She was a good person wasn’t she? She deserved some happiness in her life just like everyone else. “Damn straight.”

  There it was. That fire she’d lost and thought was gone forever. Hell yeah. You’ve been knocked on your ass Kerry girl but you’re not out of the fight. The smile on her face this time turned into a happy grin.

  With her mind racing, she started thinking of all the things she’d been really good at. Yes, for once Kerry don’t just think of your failures, think about those things that you were once so proud of achieving. She coached her poor beleaguered mind.

  She had always been an excellent cook, and people had made mention of her interior design savvy time and again. Those were all good, but she kept coming back to her stories. The joy she once had at that simple task. Besides, she didn’t have to go out and face the world to write, not yet anyway.

  Writing had always been the only thing she’d ever really wanted to do. Maybe she could go to school for that, hone her skills so to speak. But she balked at the idea of spending so much time on something that she believed was a gift that didn’t need to be taught. She’d always seen writing as something that came naturally. Besides, she didn’t have the money for that even if she wanted to.

  Getting up from the floor, she took the box with her back to the kitchen, where she made herself another pot of coffee and prepared to dig in. For the first time, in too long to remember, she felt half alive and hoped the feeling last. She was tired of looking at the back end of despair, time for some light and laughter, even if it was with the people she created in her own mind.

  It was another few hours before she came up for air. Going back over what she’d written, she felt the first real sense of hope since her world had unraveled. Sitting there at the ratty old table she felt empowered and accomplished with her small victory.

  You see; all is not lost. There’s still a little piece of you in there. She read it over again to be sure and it still flowed well. There was something forming in the pit of her gut that told her maybe life was about to change. That maybe her days of crying on the bathroom floor were at an end.

  “This is pretty good stuff Kerry girl.” She felt a flutter of excitement in the pit of her stomach as she contemplated her next move. She no longer had access to a computer so she’d have to go to the library tomorrow and do some research.

  The thought of going out in public gave her pause. It had been a while since she’d seen any of her old friends, Paul and Jenny’s friends now. She felt bile rise in her throat at the pitying looks she was sure to get if she ventured out into the little town they all called home. Had she left it too long before facing the world again? What was everyone thinking?

  She actually broke out in a sweat as the acid burned in her stomach and she had to do breathing exercises to get herself to calm down. She felt that now familiar feeling of despair trying to drag her back down into the darkness and fought like hell not to let it win this time.

  When she got the shakes under control, she tried talking herself through what she needed to do next. With each thought, came the dreaded ‘what if’. What if she failed and fell flat on her face? What if she’d already wasted the best years of her life? Was it too late to start over?

  She was only twenty-eight, but that was a far cry from the eighteen year old she’d been when she’d started out on what she’d thought was her life’s dream. She had no real prospects other than the dregs of a long forgotten dream. Her life wasn’t supposed to reach this crossroad, she hadn’t prepared for it.

  She was supposed to be a mother by now, a mother and a wife. She wasn’t supposed to be starting over from nothing at her age. That depression that she’d held off for the past few hours nipped at her heels viciously, like a barking dog out for blood. She knew once it sunk its teeth in it would be a while before it let go again. Please no.

  She’d never known until now that depression was a live thing. It was like another presence in the room. Guiding and dictating your every move-your every thought. It wasn’t just in your head, it seeped into your pores, and like a vine, wrapped itself around tissue and bone to suck you back in, to hold you hostage.

  Was it always going to be like this, this cat and mouse game that played out in her mind? She felt like she was always taking one step forward and ten steps back. Looking out towards the little cracked window, she noticed how much time had passed since she’d been sitting there.

  That was another thing. Time seemed to be doing its own thing these days. Some days it would fly by unnoticed, and others it would drag on as if it would never end. Those were the worse.

  She got up to make herself a cup of soup, which was about all she’d been able to keep down in the months since the divorce. She drank half of it standing at the kitchen sink before going to empty her bladder, which she had neglected to do since she’d become so engrossed in her writing.

  After she was done, she splashed her face with water, before looking into the mirror. Looking down at her new body she could see the changes in the way that her clothes just hung on her. She’d lost a good twenty pounds. Not that she’d needed to lose weight. She’d always been a healthy one forty and on her five eight frame, she had carried it well.

  Now looking into the mirror again, she appreciated the new definition in her cheeks. She’d have to do something about her hair though; it looked like crap. She hefted it and lifted the strands in her hands.

  Her once beautiful strawberry blonde curls that everyone had always exclaimed over, were now limp and blah. “
Time to do something about that.”

  She grabbed a bottle of her favorite shampoo, one of the only things her darling ex had allowed her to take from their home under direction of his then girlfriend, who’d instructed him on what she deserved.

  Which apparently was nothing, because that was pretty much what she’d ended up with. They’d taken it all, good heavens; even down to the new designer wear he’d grudgingly allowed her to buy after years of thrift store bin diving.

  All her beautiful things were gone. The nice little butterfly crystals she’d started to collect because she’d always been so fascinated by them. Nothing too extravagant, because even after he’d started making money, she was always conscious of their humble beginnings. Now his new wife drove a high-end luxury car and had the best of everything.

  “No more of that Kerryanne Lashley.” With one last look in the mirror, she hopped into the shower and washed her hair twice and deep conditioned it before brushing it to a high sheen. She admired her handy work in the mirror, her spirits already lifted by the results.

  She climbed into bed feeling a huge sense of achievement, and with a deep sigh turned it off and went to sleep. For the first time in a long time she was looking forward to what the new day would bring.

  Chapter 2

  ***

  The next day, before she could lose her nerve, she got up early and got ready for her walk of shame. Everyone knew what had happened to her and though she was sure not all of them were actually laughing at her behind their hands, she was pretty sure the ones who weren’t were pitying her, and she wasn’t sure which horrified her more.

  She pushed those negative thoughts aside as best she could as she drank her second cup of coffee. After rinsing the cup and putting it to drain, she headed to the bathroom to add the finishing touches to her appearance. The fact that she even cared was a good sign as far as she was concerned. It had been a while.