Beautifully Broken: If You Leave Part 30

"I need to be alone," I tell her through the door, before I collapse into my chair and put my head on my arms.

I feel completely empty, completely in shock. I didn't see this coming. I really didn't.

My insides are empty, cavernous and black. A void. My heart is a void. Do I have a heart after all? Was this even real? Was any of it real? I have the dazed idea that maybe I fell down the rabbit hole that first night at the club after all. Maybe... maybe... maybe... I should pull myself together.

I open my eyes and stare at the wall, my cheek pressed firmly to the cool wood of my desk.

All of it is real.

Gabriel is gone.

I am here.

And I suddenly realize that I've been scared of the wrong things all along.

Instead of worrying that Gabriel was a bully or violent or had a bad temper like my dad, I should have been afraid of him for the one thing that could hurt me the most.

For the one thing that has hurt me the most.

I should have been afraid of losing him.

I lift my head and wipe the tears that have streaked down my cheeks and onto my arms. I pick up my phone and try to call him. It goes straight to voice mail. I hang up.

I stare at the wall, fighting the urge to throw my phone at it.

Instead I stare at the little screen before I start typing on it.

You can't make me love you, then just leave.

I send the message, even as I realize that it's exactly what he did. He made me love him and then he left me.

He. Just. Left.

Like none of this happened. Like none of it mattered.

Like I'm nothing at all.

I add a second text.

f.u.c.k you, Gabe.

"Oh, my sweet Lord," Mila mutters, watching me check my phone for the millionth time in two days. "I'm going to freaking kill this guy myself. I'm going to get out of this bed, travel to wherever he's at, and kill him."

I stare at her miserably. I feel like a lovesick teenager, yet at the same time I feel so much more than that. I feel completely crushed, completely empty, completely jilted. Gabe hasn't even bothered to answer my texts. He hasn't called.

He told me everything, his deepest, blackest parts. He made me understand. He made my heart break for him, made me feel his pain... and then he just left.

Like I'm inconsequential, like I'm not even important enough to think twice about.

f.u.c.k him.

That's what I keep telling my heart. But my freaking heart is so stubborn. It insists on being broken.

"Tell me what happened," Mila insists firmly when a tear streaks down my cheek. I know it unnerves her because I simply don't cry.

Not usually.

"It's complicated," I say wearily. "I don't want to get into it."

"Well, I do," Mila answers, her eyes snapping. "I need to know what happened so that I can help. When Pax left me, you made me tell you everything. Now tell me."

So I do. I go through everything, from the way I met Gabe, to the way he punched the wall that night, through my fears about the way he handled Jared... to what happened last night. When I'm finally finished, Mila is pale and wide-eyed.

"Let me see the bruise."

Her words are stark, stilted.

I untie the scarf and let it fall to the floor. Mila gasps, horrified at Gabriel's purple handprint on my neck.

"Oh my G.o.d," she breathes. I nod.

"He wasn't even awake. He didn't mean to."

Mila stares at me doubtfully. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure," I snap. "I'm not an idiot. He was asleep. His night terrors are so real that he can't even tell what's real and what's not. He thought I was someone else. He was completely wrecked by it, Mi. And now he's gone. He wanted to protect me, so he left."

I'm crying now and Mila reaches over to wrap her skinny arms around me.

"It's OK," she soothes me. "Shhhh. Go ahead and cry. It's OK. It's all going to be OK." She pats my back and I cry and cry and cry.

When I'm done she hands me a Kleenex.

"He didn't mean to do it," I repeat for good measure, staring her in the eye. She nods slowly, her face expressionless.

"I don't doubt that," she says slowly. "I can see that about him. But that doesn't change the fact that he did do it, Maddy. He needs some help. And if he wasn't going to get that help, then maybe it's best that he left."

My eyes burn, but I don't cry again.

"You don't understand," I mumble. "He thinks he's un-helpable."

She nods again, solemnly. "I'm sure he does. I remember that Pax was the same way. And what did you tell me?"

I turn my face, refusing to answer even though I remember very well what I said.

"What did you tell me?" Mila repeats firmly.

"I told you that he had to get help on his own, that you couldn't fix him." My voice is sullen because it seemed so very different when I was dishing out that advice rather than receiving it.

"And you were right," she tells me gently. "And I'm right now when I tell you the same thing."

"But he didn't leave to get help," I tell her limply. "He left for good, to protect me."

Mila looks pained, her hand fluttering around to pat my back again. "I know. But maybe it will all work out and maybe he'll be back. Someday. And everything will be fine. Trust me, when Pax left, I didn't think he'd ever come back. But he did."

I shake my head, changing the subject. I just can't talk about it anymore. Not if I don't want to break down again.

"I'm sorry, Mila," I tell her tiredly. "I don't mean to bring you down. You've got enough on your plate being stuck in bed. I really just came out here to help with the baby's room. It needs to be organized and I doubt Pax will know what to do with it."

Mila nods, eyeing me carefully. "Well, that part's right. Pax has no clue what to do with the baby things. But don't think you can't talk to me, Mad. Trust me, I know how you're feeling right now. If you need to talk again, I'm here."

"Thank you," I tell her softly, as I bend and kiss her cheek before I head out the door.

"Don't give up, Maddy," she calls after me. "I mean it!

I don't answer. I just walk down the hall to the baby's room and open the door.

A flood of sunshiny yellow greets me as light from the windows. .h.i.ts the yellow walls. Pax hired a painter to come in and paint it yellow, per Mila's request. Since they don't want to know the s.e.x of the baby, they had to be gender-neutral. And Mila loves the sun.

f.u.c.k the sun. I hate the sun today.

I look around at the unopened boxes, at the baby monitors, the stacks of clothing with the tags still on, the stroller still in the box. Pax has ordered all the right supplies, he just has no idea what to do with it all.

Which is why I'm here. Hopefully it will keep my mind off my own pain.

I get to work. I put together the changing table in a logical place in the room, next to the mahogany crib. I line up all the little baby care things on the shelf next to it: the powder, the lotion, the nail clippers.

I hang the mobile over the bed, adjusting the colorful kites so that they're the right height. I put sheets on the crib mattress. I set up the baby monitor. I fluff the pillows on the rocking chair.

And then I sit in it and fold the tiny baby clothes so I can put them away.

As I stare at the tiny little undershirt in my hands, at the way it's hardly bigger than my hand, my vision blurs as tears fill my eyes.

I won't have this... not for a long time. Maybe not ever.

Gabe left me and I don't want anyone else. I can't imagine ever wanting anyone else... so a family, a baby, a husband... a happy life... it's out of my grasp.

I close my eyes and just let myself cry again, quietly in the sun... the sun that refuses to leave me alone.

I don't know how long I cry. All I know is that finally I don't have any tears left. I'm totally spent. My throat feels scratchy and hoa.r.s.e and my eyes are hot.

I can't cry anymore. It's all gone.

I open my eyes to find Pax sitting across the room on the delicate white love seat.

"What the..." I'm startled. "How long have you been here?"

He stares at me, his hazel eyes troubled. "Long enough. Tell me where he is. I'm going to beat his a.s.s."

I shake my head, staring at my hands.

"Not you too. Mila already threatened that. Not that she's actually a threat. He didn't mean to hurt me, Pax. He was asleep. Like I explained to Mila, he has PTSD. He honestly didn't know what he was doing."

Pax shakes his head. "That's not what I'm beating his a.s.s for. I believe that he didn't mean to hurt you. He's not that kind of guy. I can tell. What I'm going to beat his a.s.s for is leaving you like this. It's a d.i.c.k thing to do."

My eyes well up again, even though I thought my tears were all gone.

One drips down my nose and onto my hand.

"I wish I'd never met him at all," I confess painfully. "I wish he had never come here. Then I wouldn't feel like this right now. I wouldn't feel like someone yanked my guts out and put them back in all the wrong places."

Pax stares at me, then crosses the room, kneeling next to me with his hand on my back.

"You don't mean that," he says gently. "You were closed off before. I don't know s.h.i.t about women, but even I could see that. This is horrible, I know. But at least you're feeling something. You know?"

I stare at him incredulously. "Seriously, Pax? I would rather feel nothing at all than like this."

He nods. "I know. I'm sorry that I'm not good with this stuff. All I can tell you is that you should just concentrate on yourself right now. I'm pulling the funding for DefenseTech, so you won't even have to hear his name. Just focus on yourself. Gabe's got s.h.i.t to take care of and it's not your fault."

"I know," I tell him. "I know it's not my fault. And you know what? You're right. Instead of focusing on him, I'm going to concentrate on working on myself. Lord knows there's a lot of work to be done."

Pax smiles slowly. "Well, there's not that much to do. You're pretty great, Mad. He has no idea what he gave up."

My eyes tear up again. "I don't want to think about him anymore," I whisper. "It's too hard."

Pax nods. "I know. I'm so sorry, Maddy. I honestly can't imagine what happened. Gabe's a stand-up guy. Trust me, I know a.s.sholes and he's not one. I hope that he can get his s.h.i.t straightened out."

I nod silently. "That's not really my problem now," I finally answer.

"Whatever you say," Pax replies as he stands up. "I just want to see you happy, Madison. You really do deserve it. You've taken care of Mila for so long and I can't tell you how much I appreciate that. But that's my job now and you need to take care of you."

"Thanks, Pax. Really. I mean it. I do love you, you know. I know you don't like talking about mushy s.h.i.t like this, so thank you."

He grins. "Anytime. My advice isn't always good, but it's free." At my quick look he adds, "But in this case it's good."

I roll my eyes as I stand up.

"I think I'll run to the restaurant while Mila naps. I'll be back with dinner."

Pax holds out a fist for me to b.u.mp. "Awesome. Mila will thank you. She's getting pretty d.a.m.n tired of scrambled eggs, which is the only thing I can cook."

I b.u.mp his fist limply and shake my head.

"It's a good thing you're pretty," I tell him on my way out the door. I can hear him chuckling as I leave.

I don't feel like joking. I honestly don't. But maybe if I pretend that everything is normal, that everything is OK... maybe it will be.