Not Meant To Be Broken

“You look as if you’re tasting something foul,” Kevin said as he slid into the chair across from mine. We sometimes met for coffee between classes. I could only imagine what he’d say to my thoughts of cheating on Amber.

“Is this all because you’re not getting any?” He asked as he settled back with his pumpkin spice latte. I wasn’t sure how he could drink the sweet stuff.

I made a noncommittal sound.

“Stop acting like a pussy.”

“Says the man who drinks skinny milk like an anorexic girl.”

“That’s not very PC of you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Once I’m joining my father in the company, political correctness is all people will ever get from me on the outside. Might as well enjoy my numbered days of foul-mouthedness as long as they last and before I become a backstabbing corporate lawyer and manager.”

“Then don’t join the company and do what you want.”

“That would go over well with my father.”

“So what?”

“I like my life. I like not having to worry about money. If I became a human rights lawyer my father would disown me.”

“Zach, you told me yourself that you’ve invested a lot of the money your grandfather gave you when he was alive and that it’s going well. You could live on that money easily.”

I probably could. But I’d been living by the rules of my father all my life. Money had never been an issue because of that. And my father would probably make my mother even more miserable to punish me, though I wasn’t sure how that was even possible. Maybe he’d divorce her out of spite. She’d actually despair if the asshole left her. Love always meant trouble. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Then let’s talk about you and Amber.” I wasn’t sure I wanted to talk to him about that either. “Have you tried talking to her?”

“I can hardly tell her that I’m an asshole who spends every waking moment fantasizing about getting her naked.”

“Maybe she’ll surprise you.”

Or maybe she’d run away screaming. I couldn’t risk that. Sometimes I wondered if I was on the verge of breaking my rule about never loving a woman.

***

Amber was lying on my arm, her firm butt pressed against my erection. The friction was almost enough to lose my cum right there. I tried to remove my arm from under her head but it didn’t work. She made a small sound and shifted her butt. I groaned. I wanted nothing more than to slide up her nightgown and move aside her panties and bury myself in her. She felt so hot against my cock. I could only imagine how much hotter her core would feel. I closed my eyes and nuzzled her neck, drawing in deep calming breath. Her hair smelled like the vanilla shampoo she always used. I started to relax when Amber started to wake. The way I was spooning her, there was no way I could hide my erection, especially if I didn’t shove her off me.

Amber

Sunrays tickled my face. I blinked away the sleepiness. Zach’s chest was pressed against my back, one of his long legs between mine. I was wrapped in his arms. As I shifted I noticed an insistent pressure against my butt and my eyes opened wide. I waited for the panic to set in, but it never came. Instead there was only curiosity and embarrassment. I tried to wriggle away to spare Zach the mortification once he woke, but when he groaned I realized it was too late. I gasped, couldn’t help it. Zach stiffened and quickly rolled away, leaving me cold. “Fuck,” he mumbled. The mattress shifted as he sat up. “Sorry.” He sounded angry. “I didn’t want you to wake like that.”

Did he think he had scared me? I turned around, grasping his arm to stop him from getting out of bed. His expression was pained. “Don’t go.”

“I really need to deal with this,” he said, gesturing at his lower regions.

Heat surged into my face. How often had he been taking care of things himself in the last few weeks? He swung his legs out of bed and stood. My eyes were drawn to the bulge in his pants. A mix of anxiety and curiosity filled me. It was stupid to be anxious at all. I had no reason to be afraid of Zach, much less of what was in his pants. Zach would never hurt me. I was in control of my fear, my wants, my life. That had become my mantra. I had to claim my life back. “I’ll be back soon,” Zach promised before he left the room.

I turned onto my back and stared up at the ceiling. Zach and I had been dating for four weeks. All we’d done was kissing. After my brief moment of courage when I’d touched Zach’s stomach that first night we’d watched TV in his bed, I hadn’t even seen his stomach again. He always wore a shirt in bed. He sometimes caressed my cheek or put a hand on my hip but he’d never done anything else. He was waiting for a sign from me. I wished I knew how far was too far for me at this point.

The door swung open and Zach came back in. I couldn’t help but blush at the thought of what he’d done in the bathroom. He perched on the edge of the bed and reached out to brush my hair back from my forehead. “Do you want to get up?”

I shook my head. It was Saturday, so we could stay in. Zach slipped back under the covers but I sat up. Zach’s brows drew together in confusion. My pulse was pounding in my veins as I reached for my long sleeved pajama top and pulled it over my head. I was still wearing a very thin spaghetti top underneath and I knew Zach had seen me like that before when he’d woken me from my nightmare weeks ago, but this was more. I lay back, feeling Zach’s intent gaze on me. “Can you remove your shirt?” I asked in a whisper. Zach sat up at once and slid his shirt over his head. I touched the tattoo on his shoulder blade. It was bigger than my hand, an intricate design of intertwined lines.

“It’s a tribal tattoo,” Zach said before I could ask. “It was a spur of the moment kind of thing. I loved the design.”

“It’s beautiful.” I traced the edges. “Maybe one day I’ll get a tattoo too.”

Zach lied down beside me, a curious look on his face. “Really?”

“Yeah. I once saw one I really liked. It was a quote ‘Sometimes you’ve gotta fall before you fly’ with birds fluttering away from the words.”

Zach cupped my cheek and kissed me. “Where?” he whispered against my lips. Drawing up my courage, I lifted my shirt up to my ribcage and motioned along my side. “The birds are supposed to fly over my scar.” I couldn’t meet Zach’s gaze. The scar below my ribs on the upper left side of my stomach was ugly. It was almost as long as my hand. Over the years it had paled but it was impossible to miss. I knew Zach was looking at it. How could he not? He reached out and put his hand over my scar. “Is this okay?”

I nodded, not able to speak. “It’s ugly. I know.”

“No, Amber,” Zach said fiercely. “No part of you could ever be ugly.” He leaned down very slowly, eyes on me as he placed a kiss on the scar. Goosebumps erupted all over my skin. I shivered at the feel of his mouth. “Does it still hurt?”

“No. It’ll always be a reminder of that day. Whenever I see or feel it, I’m forced to remember.” My voice broke. Zach’s eyes flashed with emotion. I could see that he wanted to ask what had happened. “They beat and kicked me when they were done with me. And when I passed out from the beatings, they tried to strangle me. They thought I was dead, so they left me. My spleen was ruptured and several ribs were broken as well bones in almost every part of my body. They had to remove my spleen. That’s why I have the scar.” It was strange hearing me say the words. They sounded detached, as if I was talking about something that had happened to someone else. Zach’s jaw twitched and he closed his eyes for a moment before he opened them again. He touched his forehead to mine. “I wished I could turn back time and kill those men before they got you. I would make them suffer. I wished there was a way to take away the memories.” Tears filled my eyes as I stared at Zach. “Every day with you makes it better, Zach. I never thought I could have what you give me. Those men said nobody would ever want me after what they’d done, so they were being merciful by killing me. For a long time I believed them.”

He swallowed hard. “Everything they said was a lie. I want

you, Amber, scars and all.” He grasped my left arm and turned it over revealing the long scar from my second suicide attempt. He rubbed his thumb over it with a strange expression on his face. “I’m so glad your father found you in time.”

“He almost didn’t. I put a lot of research into my second try. When I woke in the hospital, I was so angry at my father because he’d saved me. I hated him because he couldn’t let me go, because he loved me too much.” I choked out a laugh.

“Have you ever thought about trying again since then?” Zach was still running his fingers over the soft skin of my forearm. I considered lying, but his eyes compelled me to say the truth. “Almost every day.” Zach’s grip tightened. “But I won’t. It’s more like a light at the end of a tunnel for me when the darkness of living gets too much.” Zach pressed his face into the crook of my neck. “God, Amber. Promise me you won’t ever try it again.”

“I won’t try again.” I knew it was something I couldn’t promise. Could anybody ever promise something like that? I’d learned to live with the horrors of my past, but I couldn’t tell what the future would bring.