Chapter 39
39
PENNY
The worst part of getting over a breakup is pretending that I’m not dying inside.
It’s on days like these where I feel summarily inadequate. I stumble around, trying to keep the superficial smile plastered to my face, while forcing myself to inhale and exhale at the appropriate time to at least appear human in public.
I’ve been just surviving for days—and doing it barely.
But it’s when I allow the thought of what if to creep in through the cracks that I trigger the unabridged panic to rise and the abyss of rejection to deepen.
Collins Stone wants nothing to do with me.
His look of pathetic indifference sealed that conclusion for me.
It’s when I’m confronted head-on with the reality that my heart may survive, but it will be forever fractured, that I try to envision my new life—a life without the man I love in it—and the silent wish that the darkness lurking from the sidelines will fade with time.
I feel like a fraud.
I’m faking my motivation to get dressed up and to pretend to enjoy small talk with people who will see my outward smile and genuinely think I’m happy.
Spoiler alert, I’m not fine.
And I’m questioning if I’ll ever be able to find contentment again.
I’m falling apart at my core, and there isn’t a single person on this planet who understands that I’ve fallen in love and am devastated from the loss of that love.
My family doesn’t even believe me.
How could I possibly fall for my hired bodyguard?
How does someone sixteen years older than I am have anything in common with me?
I know that’s what my brothers are thinking, at least.
Collins has been an invisible string woven into my past and my present, tying my life together in ways I can only now see once that string got cut.
And despite being over, my heart still yearns for the kind of love I disillusioned myself into believing I deserve.
But why strive to be whole when the person who holds the glue walked out at the first sign of trouble?
Instead, I’ll aim for being just a shell.
I just need to go through the motions and hope no one really notices anything is off so I don’t get more privileges stripped from me with the overarching explanation being, “I’m doing this for your protection.”
If moving forward means putting one foot in front of the other, then that’s what I’m trying to do. Besides, I promised my dad I would participate in his annual charity auction. I owe him my presence here tonight and a tad bit more.
So here I am—participating—with my fraudulent smile in place.
This will be the first social event I’ll be attending since Collins walked out of my apartment, leaving me covered in my own tears and vomit.
I don’t take pride in being the one who was hurt the most out of the two of us. I’d much rather take the physical pain he received at the hands of Graham than the emotional torture he put me through when he acted like what we had was just a business transaction.
But it’s that fresh reminder of pain that keeps my heart guarded from anyone who might want to do it more harm.
Grabbing my name card and the seating number, I weave between the beautifully decorated tables until I find the correct one.
In agreeing to stay away from Collins, I made my brothers promise to give me some space. I’m shocked that they seem to be complying.
Ever since that horrible day where I threw myself at Collins’s feet and begged him to stay, I haven’t talked with my brothers. I am angry but don’t even know who to channel my frustration to the most.
The fact of the matter is, my brothers found out about my secret relationship with their right-hand man, and Collins didn’t do a damn thing to fight for what I thought we were building.
Then there’s Luke…
I thought he was my friend. But I can’t be mad at him for taking the exuberant amount my brothers probably paid him. Anyone in his position would have done the same.
He’s tried to reach out to me multiple times in the last week, still sticking to his story of not knowing anything about being paid to spy on me.
I just wish he would fess up so we can move forward. I don’t want a beef with him.
Portland is too small of a city to have enemies.
I take my seat at the huge circular table and wait quietly for more guests to arrive. I hate being first.
My fingers trail along the golden fabric of the tablecloth. Hurricane vases of beautiful white flowers make up the centerpiece. Every table is unique, yet sticking with the central core theme.
I’d be shocked if Momma had nothing to do with the artistic touches I’m now noticing in the details. It looks like I’m attending a wedding, and a glance at the menu that is resting on my dinner plate lets me know that there’s no way my stomach is going to fit all of the food.
Regardless, this will be more than I’ve eaten this week combined.
“I’m glad you are here,” Momma says, arriving next.
At least now I have company.
She gives me a hug. Wearing a floor-length, sheer red dress, she looks as stunning as ever.
I’ve been avoiding her and Dad since everything went down. They are the safety net that I couldn’t utilize in my life without them being upset with my brothers for how they handled things.
In a way, I’m protecting them from choosing sides. I’m not sure why. It’s just another example of how messed-up I truly am.
I don’t want to talk to anyone, and I sure as hell don’t need someone to rub in that this whole experience is for the best.
It’s not.
I don’t need the luxury of hindsight to understand that my life will never be whole again. I’m broken beyond repair, teetering on the edge of a major setback.
I’m going through the motions like a hollowed-out shell, doing what is expected of me, but not doing anything actually for me.
Collins was for me.
But he tossed me away just as he promised at one time he would.
That’s what happens when you build an entire relationship on a fault line. Things are destined to get shaken up eventually.
Leaning into me, Momma squeezes my hand. “I’m not going to ask you questions or suggest I have some wisdom to offer. But I just want you to know that I’m a call-all-hours-of-the-night mother. And that when you are hurting, so am I.”
I squeeze her hand back, fighting back the tears that want to escape. “There’s something wrong with me.”
“Oh, Penny,” she whispers, “there’s something wrong with all of us then.”
“I’m not sure what Nic and Graham have shared with you…”
“Nothing. They tell me nothing. I’m just going off my own intuition that never lets me down.”
I nod, biting at my bottom lip. “I’ve gone behind their backs and pursued someone who they don’t approve of, and now I am heartbroken and lonely and unlovable.”
Reaching into her handbag, Momma pulls out a handkerchief. “Have I ever told you about the time your father and I broke up?”
I shake my head and wipe the tears from my eyes with the fabric. “No. I didn’t know you two ever broke up.”
Glancing off to the side of the room, her eyes catch Dad’s as he helps someone elderly to their seat. “We were separated for a few months before we got back together.”
“Why though?”
“Because both sides of our families interfered.”
I don’t have much memory of any of my grandparents and just assumed nothing rocky ever happened in my parents’ relationship.
I guess I was wrong.
“What changed?”
“We both realized that it’s our lives we are living. It is simple and yet so much interference can cause such tension in partnerships—especially new ones that are trying to form.”
“Hmm… I had no idea.”
“My sweet Penny, I’m sharing this so you can see that sometimes the storm brings the most beautiful of rainbows. That separation bonded us tighter together. It made us an unstoppable force and really helped us understand what we wanted out of our relationship.” Taking my hands into hers, she gives them a squeeze. “Listen. I’m not saying things will work out. I’m simply saying that you need to do what you think is best for you.”
“Thank you,” I mouth. I’m so caught up in the emotions of it all that I can’t even form the syllables and make a sound.
The sad part is…I am so mixed up that I no longer know what is best for me.
More people enter the room, including Graham who makes his way toward us.
I haven’t seen him in days.
He gives me a side hug. “It’s good seeing you, Pen.” Then he hugs Momma.
I’ve been staying at Nic’s old apartment. That was our compromise. I’d move out of Sky View if I could have space to myself to heal.
But I’m not sure the separation has done anything to help me feel better.
I don’t leave. I just lie in bed and mope around.
I eat just enough to not land myself in the hospital on IVs and can’t even find enjoyment in the numerous channels that Nic has subscribed to on the television.
I’m pretty sure the person living across the hall is a spy, but it’s not like I even care anymore.
I live a boring existence. And I trust no one.
I take a deep breath, channeling all my inner strength to get through tonight. But it’s not until I see the faces of Angie and Claire that I can no longer stand it.
“Let’s go to the restroom,” Claire says, wrapping a hand around my back.
“It’s going to be okay,” Angie promises.
“It’s not. It’s never going to be okay again.”
My parents may have worked their differences out, but that was because they both wanted to put in the effort. Collins wants nothing to do with me.
“It will,” Claire insists. “Just give it some time and let things smooth over.”
“He doesn’t want me anymore,” I sob, not needing to fill in the blank that I’m talking about the one man who holds the power to start and stop my heart.
Angie frowns. “I can’t imagine how he could not want you, Penny.”
“Even if he did, he won’t do anything about it, not when my brothers are ready to castrate him for even going near me. It’s not his fault. It’s mine. It’s all mine. They don’t realize that I was the one who was making the moves on him. I’m not the innocent one in all of this. I’m literally the catalyst who set this whole thing into motion.”
“Just breathe,” Angie says, pushing me down onto the sofa in the lounge that’s an offshoot from the main restroom area.
I’m thankful there’s a comfortable place to rest. The only thing I’ve wanted to do since the breakup is rest.
Oh, the joy of sleeping away this nagging sorrow, grieving for a man who is back to not even realizing I exist.
Sure, he is loyal to my brothers and probably feels that sense of urgency to make things right, but to act like what we had was nothing hurts the most.
He hasn’t called.
He hasn’t texted.
He hasn’t even spied—and I would know.
If it wasn’t for the physical ache my heart is going through, I’d start to wonder if I made the entire thing up. It definitely feels like I’m the only one suffering.
“I’m never going to get through this,” I say, panting out my exhales.
The air feels thick. It’s like I’m trying to breathe through a narrow straw.
My hands smooth out my pink tulle dress. If I wasn’t walking around with the look of utter devastation on my face, I imagine I would appear to be pretty.
Why did I even choose this color when black would have been a more fitting shade?
Like a funeral… To mourn the loss of my happiness.
I fix a stray piece of hair behind my ear, instantly regretting not leaving it down. If I left it loose, then I could at least hide behind it.
Claire levels her eyes with mine. “I’m working on a solution. I just need you to trust me.”
My eyes move to her stomach. She’s just a couple of months away from welcoming her first child into this world. The last thing she needs is to worry about my pathetic existence right now.
“You have enough on your plate already.”
“Penny, we are friends. But more importantly, we are family. And I never really had a family network until I fell head over fucking heels for your sometimes oblivious brother, so I have zero intention of sitting back and watching it all break apart over this tragic misunderstanding.”
Angie rubs a hand on my back as my shoulders shake, while keeping another hand on Claire’s who is also now crying.
I hate crying. Yet when I’m with these women who always seem to provide compassion and empathy, I can’t help but let out the emotional release I seem to need at the time.
“Thank you,” I say between sniffles, “but there’s no fixing this.”
“That’s not true,” Angie says softly.
Oh great, now she’s crying too.
“I’m sorry for making you cry,” I say softly.
Angie wipes at her nose. “It’s the hormones.” Then she covers her mouth as a sob breaks out. “I didn’t want to make this about me.”
“Please tell us what’s happening,” I encourage. “We love you.”
“We’re struggling to conceive,” she blurts out, as tears drip down her face.
Claire grabs some tissues and tries to wipe them up as fast as she can before they speckle the fabric of her dress.
“How can we help?” I ask, trying not to become too emotional.
“You already are,” she responds. “I simply need a distraction while I wait to see if this round of hormones I’m on has done the trick. I just never thought something as natural as making a baby could be this hard.”
“I am really sorry. I read that it’s rather common,” I point out. “Something like one in eight women struggle to conceive.”
Angie nods, looking relieved that she isn’t bottling all of this up inside. I wish she would have mentioned it to us sooner. We could have been more supportive.
“Do you have a backup plan?” Claire asks hesitantly.
“We’ll probably move forward with IUI or IVF then.”
I clear my throat, fighting back my tears. “We are here for you.”
“Always,” Claire chimes in.
I imagine Claire feels weird as we get closer and closer to her due date. It would be hard being pregnant while your best friend is struggling with her own fertility battles.
“See?” Angie asks. “This is what I do… I make things about myself.”
“Nonsense,” Claire says, giving Angie a hug as I join in. “We are in this life together and all the struggles that it brings to us.”
“Things will work out with you, Penny,” Angie says confidently, “just like they will work out for me. It might not be the path we choose but it will be the path that chooses us.”
I allow her words to linger. “I’m not going to beg someone to choose me.” I mean, I basically did already and it didn’t work. “We have been playing this game all this time on uneven fields. And I was just naively stupid for thinking that anyone would want someone broken like me.”
Claire snaps her fingers. “Listen. My rules for getting a man’s attention still apply. It’s?—”
“Please don’t say foolproof,” Angie interrupts.
She shrugs. “It’s basically foolproof.”
“Except it’s not”—Angie gives her a serious stare—“and never is.”
Claire glares at her bestie. “I’m going to choose to ignore your pessimism today and grant you some grace.” Then she turns to me. “The trick to luring a guy in is to act like they are the ones who don’t exist. Men are hunters, and not one of them enjoy easy prey.”
Leaning over, Angie grabs a tissue box from the little decorative side table, and I instantly wonder just how many women have sat on this sofa and poured out their soul with friends. Every ladies’ room needs a comfort couch.
And I’m glad I found mine.
I clear my throat. “And how do I do that?”
“You go out there”—she points to the exit—“and live your best life. We are here to make some money for your dad’s charity. We are not here to soak in the sadness that surrounds us when our overbearing men think they have the upper hand, which they don’t. They have a penis, but we hold the power in the pussy.”
“That’s actually a solid speech,” Angie says in disbelief, making me laugh-cry.
“And I can be your emotional support animal for the night,” Claire says to me.
“Thank you,” I say, wiping my nose.
“And I have zero qualms about kicking that stubborn and pigheaded brother of yours in the nuts. Well, maybe shins.” She taps her finger along her jawline. “Yeah, let’s go with shins since I want more babies with him.”
What was I thinking getting involved in a sexual relationship with my hired bodyguard?
And how did I not fully prepare myself for this all to blow up massively in my face?
But I am here.
And I can do this…even with a shattered heart.