Page 4 of Broken Lovers
“Whoa, Mom, slow down there for a second. Can you please repeat the last bit again?”
“What, that your young man Luke is single too?” Mom asks.
“No. The bit about getting in touch—and by the way, he is not my young man.”
I know I’m starting to sound snappy again. But I’m sure she is deliberately skipping over some important facts. I know this woman too well and she is hiding something.
“Oh that—okay, well, I got Luke’s phone number for you, so you can call him. I’ll send it to you, later. I’m not real sure how to do that while we are talkin’. Hang on, let me see if I can do that.”
I quickly interrupt, “No, Mom it’s okay. Please don’t put me on hold.”
My mom is not so good with the workings of a cell phone, and if she puts me on hold, there’s no guessing how long it will take her to figure out how to take me off hold again. Secretly, I’m also hoping she won’t know how to send me Luke’s number. It’s a waste of her time anyway, as I’m sure as hell not calling the man after what he did to me.
“So, Margaret, Luke’s mom, gave you Luke’s number, but he doesn’t have my number, does he?” I ask, wanting to be crystal clear.
“Oh, you silly lil thing. Of course, I passed your cell onto Luke. It would be rude not to, and I brought you up better than that. Margaret said she was going to call him right away and give it to him.”
She continues talking, even though she had lost me at Luke has my number “. . . and I bet he takes his mamma’s call first time, unlike someone I know.’’
Shit! Shit! Shit! I cannot believe Mom has passed my number onto Luke. I need to end this call now. I can’t be dealing with this here in the middle of the office. My heart is pounding like it wants to escape my chest cavity. What am I going to do? Before my mother has a chance to continue with any more of her so-called “exciting” news, I end the call. I tell her I have a meeting to get to, which is a harmless lie, but too bad. I need time to think.
Clicking off my phone, I drop my head down into my hands. I love my mom dearly, but God, the woman drives me crazy sometimes with her meddling. Especially when she tries to be a merry matchmaker. Usually, the matchmaking extends to some random son of some neighbor or friend. But this time, she's gone too far.
Luke Steele is no random. LukefuckingSteele is the asshole who crushed my young heart and there is no way I need that six-foot three-inch hunk of pain back in my life.
I can't believe he has my number, and he's living and working here in Manhattan. Even the remote possibility that I might run into him in a bar or club or walking down the street, scares me. This new job in New York was supposed to be a fresh, exciting start for me. A new chapter in my life, but now I fear those plans have just been given a huge shakeup.
Over the years I've tried so hard to not think about Luke, to move on, to heal my broken heart. The heart he didn’t simply break eight years ago, but smashed into thousands of tiny pieces, sharp jagged pieces not easily repaired. I can’t let him back in my life.
I was young and naive when I surrendered my heart and body completely to him. He became my life, and we were inseparable. He was my first love. My first everything.
I allow myself a moment to let the memories flood back unchecked. Days at the beach with Luke. Picnics on the sand, walking hand in hand along the shore, kissing in the shallows. Then the nights lying in each other arms listening to the ocean waves, late-night swims, or sharing steamy hot showers. God, I loved our steamy hot showers.
It's hard to know when things went wrong with us. It seemed like one day he was leaving for Fort Benning to join the Army, and I was off to college, still madly in love and separated by distance only. Then we were over.
Even after all these years I still don't understand exactly why he dumped me other than he decided it was all too hard. How do you just stop being in love? It's not like it's a tap which can be turned on or off.
The worst part, or even the saddest part, he didn’t even have the balls to tell me in person.
Instead, he wrote me a letter. A stupid fuckingDear Janeletter, after all our time together.
The letter was sent from Afghanistan where he was deployed, so I couldn’t even contact him or speak to him. I did try for a couple of weeks, but when I wasn’t successful, I gave up.
Obviously, I was a bit slow to take the brutal hint, but eventually, I got the point. He didn’t want me anymore.
I’ve had no contact with Luke since the letter. In fact, I’ve gone out of my way to avoid hearing anything about him. I guess that's why I had no idea he was living in Manhattan. I imagined he would still be in the Army based somewhere around the world, but I guess we all change our plans. After all, I couldn’t have imagined I would leave my family in Florida and move to this big city but here I am.
Now is not the time to sit trawling through the old deep hurt which surfaces when memories of Luke flood back. I need to get back to work. I do love my new job, the team have made me feel welcome, they're supportive, helpful and already I’ve learned so much. But the best part about my move to the city is being back sharing an apartment with my best friends Jasmine and Lily.
I met my gal pals the first week of college, and we’ve stuck ever since. Initially, Jas and I shared a dorm together, and Lily was down the hall, but after a few months, we were firm friends and had moved into an apartment together not far from campus.
We shared a lot of fun times in college and it’s nice to have the gang back together again. We live in a trendy apartment in the Village, thanks to Jasmine’s dad, who seems to regularly be providing us with places to live. He is a property gazillionaire, pleased to help his baby girl and her friends when needed. Lily and I are lucky her dad looks upon us as two more daughters. While we insist on paying rent, he refuses to take more than a minimal amount. He says he's merely happy to know Jasmine has her friends with her.
Luckily, I don’t have any meetings this afternoon as my head is swimming, and for once, I’m struggling to focus on my work. I give myself a mental shake, grab my purse, and head down to the lobby to get a super-strong coffee.
Wish I could get something a little stronger, but it’s only three o’clock. I fire off a quick text to Jasmine and Lily confirming the time to meet later tonight at Benny’s.
Benny’s Bar is our regular Friday night haunt, and tonight, I’m going to need one or two of his special cocktails.
