Page 39 of Broken Pieces
We arrived at the hotel a few hours ago, and without saying a word I just walked into my room and crashed. It’s three A.M. now, and my stomach grumbles, demanding the food I didn’t get to eat. Putting on a pair of cotton shorts and tying the mess of my hair in a bun, I walk out of my room to get something quick to eat and a steaming cup of tea to go back to bed.
I stop dead in my tracks, finding Damian sitting at the island with a mug in front of him. He’s lost in thought, not even acknowledging my presence.
“Trouble sleeping?” I whisper.
He startles slightly, his gaze lifting and meeting mine. “Something like that.”
Nodding, I stride to the kitchen and grab a mug and a bag of chamomile tea. His eyes follow my every movement, the intensity of his gaze making my body burn. Thekitchen is filled with tension, the sound of me opening the tea bag filling the charged silence.
“There’s hot water left in the tea kettle.”
I nod. “Thanks.”
Walking to the tea kettle, my heartbeat quickens as the tension keeps brewing between us. A knowing silence.
I wonder who will break first.
My hunger is no longer present, so I only pour the hot water into the mug and drizzle in a little raw honey. I love the taste of it, so pure and sweet, but not in a sugary way.
Grabbing the hot mug, I embrace the warm feeling in the palms of my hands as I take a sip and lean against the kitchen counter, staying as far away as possible from him. He’s like a magnetic pull. My hand itches to brush his hair in between my fingertips, and caress his strong jawline and his shoulders. After the panic attack, it’s probably the last thing I should be focusing on, yet here we are.
The silence is so deafening that I’m at my breaking point. The need to be honest and open up is nagging. He deserves to know it wasn’t his fault. Anxiety comes at you at the most unexpected times, when your feelings are in high gear and your body is on high alert. I sigh, breaking the silence. “What you witnessed was a panic attack.”
He looks at me expectantly, and I take that cue to continue, to lay it all out there. Be honest with someone for a change.
“I’ve gotten them since I was a kid. Well, I got them so often that it was like a normal routine. Now, though, they are few and far between, usually triggered when I’m feeling too much at once.”
He nods in understanding, his eyes filling with worry, maybe pity.
“Please don’t,” my voice trembles, “don’t look at me like that.” My throat closes up, the words refusing to come out now. That look right here is why I don’t open up. I don’t need anyone’s pity. Anxiety is a very real thing and people need to stop tiptoeing around it.
He gets up from his chair, striding toward me until he’s right in front of me, hovering with his tall build. “Like what? Like I care? Because I do. I care about you very much.”
I look to the side, refusing to meet his warm green gaze. “Like you pity me.” My voice is small now, the words barely coming out. My cheeks flush from embarrassment.
Yes, me and Damian have developed some sort of friendship—if you can even call it that— and attraction, but he’s also my boss. And I’ve never been this vulnerable in front of people, not even my best friend.
He grabs my chin and lifts my face, gently forcing me to look at him. His eyes are filled with a sense of understanding; a knowing look.
I, too, understand you.
I, too, am you.
“I donotpity you, Darling.” He gulps, his eyes pleading. “If anything, I relate to you,” he whispers with a hint of hurt and shame.
My heart shatters at his vulnerable tone. My first thought is,Who broke you? My second thought comes right after, one that alarms me and shocks me through my very core.
How can I help? Because I, too, need help. So much help, and I want it to be you.
Onlyyou.
I’ve been tossing and turning in my bed since last night. Opted for some tea that I thought would help, but after having that conversation with Aria in the kitchen, I was left even more wired and ended up getting no sleep whatsoever.
Seeing this side of her, so vulnerable and hurt, broke something in me. But more than that, it made me relate to her. My brain is working overtime, millions of questions left unanswered.
Who broke her?
How can I help her?
