Monica Murphy - Three Broken Promises

Jen rolls over onto her back, a soft sigh escaping her, and I let my hand drop, holding my breath as I wait for her to wake up.

She doesn’t.

Following my instincts, I stretch out beside her on top of the comforter, slipping my arm around her waist and pulling her in. I close my eyes and rest my cheek on top of her head, breathing in her scent, absorbing her sweetness. Just having her near calms my racing heart, soothes my agitated nerves. The dream made me edgy. Her confrontation rattled me further, until all I wanted to do was sweep it under the virtual rug and pretend it never happened.

But now as we lie together and I hold her close, a sense of peace settles over me. She snuggles closer, her head resting on my shoulder, her mouth close to my neck. Her breath flutters against my skin, sending a scattering of tingles all over me, and then her lips move, damp and warm. “You won’t be able to deny we’re in bed together this time,” she says in this sexy little whisper that goes straight to my dick.

Fuck. I grab hold of her tight, moving her body so she’s beneath me, I’m straddling her hips, and we’re right back at square one. Right where we started before this all fell apart.

This time, I’m not going to let that happen.

Jen

“. . . and that was it. I said that to him and he jumped me like he was going to, you know, do me or whatever. At the very least, kiss me. But he didn’t. He stared at me like I’d grown three heads, and then he climbed off me.”

“No.”

“Yes.” I nod, getting into my pitiful story. But at least I’m telling it to Fable, who understands. Anyone else would probably laugh at me. “Right before he left, he said . . .” Pausing, I take a breath, lowering my voice so I can mimic Colin. “‘You’re right. I can’t deny it any longer.’ Then he bent over, kissed the top of my head, and walked right out of my room.”

Fable stares at me, her green eyes wide, her mouth hanging open in disbelief. Any other day, I’d want to laugh. We could probably laugh over this together someday because really, last night had been ridiculous. Surreal.

I’m not laughing now, though. And neither is Fable. She knows how important Colin is to me. How drawn I am to him despite not wanting to be. She gets it. She went through her own turmoil with Drew and they somehow came out the other side. The happy side.

I have the distinct feeling that’s not gonna happen for Colin and me.

“So he bailed. He was on top of you in a bed and did nothing,” Fable finally says. “And said he can’t deny it? What, are you an it now?”

Shrugging, I glance down at the table. We’re at Fable and Drew’s apartment, though Drew isn’t home. He’s at football practice and her brother, Owen, is at his high school junior varsity’s practice. Following in his sister’s boyfriend’s footsteps, which I can’t help but find cute.

“And you let him go. Didn’t say a word to him. Just let him leave.” Fable sounds completely mystified. I can relate, since I, too, am totally mystified.

And miffed. Totally, completely bent out of shape.

“What could I say to him? ‘Hey, wish you’d stay so we can finally do it?’ I don’t think so.” I’m still staring at the table, which is small and dark and perfect. I think they just bought it—I remember Fable telling me they went furniture shopping. There’s not a mark on it, not even a fleck of dust.

“If I were you, I would’ve yelled something like, ‘Don’t think you’re ever getting back in my bed, dickhead. Not with that sort of shit going down.’ I mean, the guy needs to be put in his place. He can’t just use you and leave you like that. What a jerk!” Fable is all quiet bravado and I admire that. Wish I could yell at Colin and tell him how he really makes me feel.

How much last night’s seeming rejection hurt. How he really didn’t use me. How I sometimes secretly wish he would use me. I went to his bed willingly. I always go to his bed willingly. I can’t stand to hear him suffer, hear him cry out. Sometimes he’ll say my brother’s name. Sometimes, mine.

His pain breaks my heart. It’s a pain he stifles in the light of day. That he semi-acknowledged what we have lit a flicker of hope within me.

That he walked away—again—snuffed out the feeble flame.

I do the same thing, though. I’m stifling my pain, my secret. It’s easier that way. Still doesn’t mean I understand him, though.

“I told him I was quitting, that I was leaving, all of it. He doesn’t want me to go but he didn’t really say why, either, so . . . it’s pointless for me to be here.” I finally lift my head and meet Fable’s gaze. She looks disappointed in me and I hate that. I’ve done that a lot in my life—disappoint people. I don’t mean to. It just happens.

“I don’t want you to leave. Neither does Drew.” Fable’s voice is soft. I know what she’s trying to do. “We’ll miss you, and you know I don’t say this sort of thing to just anyone. You’re the first real friend I’ve ever had. Drew jokes that you defuse me and he’ll pay big money to keep you around.”

My heart pangs at Fable’s confession, at the humor she’s trying to bring to this otherwise serious conversation. She’s my first real female friend too. I was always close to my brother and, yes, Colin. But other girls? Not really. Until I moved here and met Fable and we somehow bonded.

“You’re okay with living here because this is where you grew up, and now Drew needs to finish college. And of course there’s Owen,” I say. Though I wonder what’s going to happen once Drew is recruited by the NFL, because the man is just too damn good of a player not to get recruited.

I know Fable doesn’t want to leave because of Owen, but she’s going to have to make a choice and soon. I don’t envy her that.

“There’s nothing for me here—can’t you see that?” I say. “No roots, no ties. Not that you don’t count, but . . . I can’t stick around here forever.” I swallow past the lump in my throat, pissed at myself. That I can’t admit the real reason I won’t stick around is because I’m afraid my past will catch up with me and I won’t know how to explain it. And that a certain someone won’t freaking acknowledge we might have something together. Something real and beautiful and amazing if he would just open his eyes—and his closed-off, made-of-steel heart—and just realize it.

“Men suck,” Fable says irritably, making me laugh. She grins in return, and I know that was her intention.

“They do,” I agree. “With the exception of yours.”

“Oh, please. He’s definitely not perfect. On occasion, he sucks big time. But yeah. I’m keeping him.” Her cheeks flush the faintest pink and I’m filled with an insane amount of jealousy that I hate to acknowledge, even to myself. I love my friend. I love that she’s found such unconditional love from a sweet, gorgeous guy who wants nothing more than to take care of her.

How I wish Colin felt the same! He has no problem with me taking care of him, but heaven forbid I need him for anything beyond a job and a roof over my head.

Ugh. Fable is so right. Men suck.

“Maybe you should just jump him,” Fable suggests out of the blue, startling me from my thoughts.

“Are you serious?” I don’t know if I have the nerve to just . . . jump him. Despite how badly I want to. I’ve known Colin for what feels like forever. While I’m willing to walk away from him and his generosity, I’m not quite ready to push my luck and put myself on the line for him sexually. Talk about making myself vulnerable.

What if he rejects me? I don’t know if I could take it.

“Hell yes, I’m serious. What better way for you to leave with a big bang than to . . . get banged.” Fable bursts out laughing, the sound downright dirty, and I can’t help it. I join right in.

That’s how her little brother Owen finds us a few minutes later, the two of us howling with laughter at the table as we trade sexual innuendos, the cheesier the better. I’d just let a ball reference fly when Owen ambled up to the table, a confused expression on his face.

We both stop laughing at the same moment, staring up at him in quiet horror.

Grimacing, Owen shakes his head. “I don’t even wanna know.”

Fable and I start giggling all over again as Owen moves into the kitchen to get himself something to drink. I watch him out of the corner of my eye, startled by how grown-up he looks. He’s only fourteen and a freshman in high school but he’s tall, and he’s filling out quickly, with broad shoulders and chest.

The girls will love him.

“Your brother is gonna be a complete lady killer someday,” I say.

Fable sighs, worry filling her gaze as she quickly studies him. “He already is. Now that he’s on the junior varsity team, he’s attracting a lot of attention from girls. I don’t like it.”

She’s gone straight into vigilant big sister mode and I love it. She’s so fiercely protective, I would never want to cross her. “Don’t say anything mean,” I warn her, but she glares at me.

“There’s no one else to protect him from all those . . . she-devils.” I almost laugh but don’t dare. The look on Fable’s face is downright scary. “I’m serious, Jen. They’re all sniffing around him like dogs in heat.”

“I heard that,” Owen calls from the tiny kitchen.

“I wanted you to,” Fable calls back. She leans across the table and lowers her voice. “I had sex way too young, you know? The idea of him doing that . . . freaks me out. I want him to stay a kid for as long as he can.”

How could I break it to her that Owen has been far from a kid for years? I think she knows this; she just doesn’t want to admit it. Only a few months ago she was complaining to me about finding yet another Baggie of weed in his jeans pocket. Though I don’t think he gets high the way he used to, what with being on the football team and following in Drew’s footsteps.

“He’s so tall,” I say, sounding lame but wanting to change the subject. I don’t really want to talk about sex and drugs in reference to Owen.

“Almost as tall as Drew.” Fable rolls her eyes, but her wistful expression betrays her. “I’m such a shrimp. Those two gang up on me and I’m done for.” And she loves the things they do together. As a family. That the two most important men in her life now have a tight bond as, well.

More jealousy flows through me and I shove it down, smiling blissfully at Fable instead. “You three are like a happy little family unit.”

She’s positively glowing at my statement. “I’ve never really been part of a happy family unit before,” she confesses softly.

I have. And I miss it.

Badly.

Colin

She was off tonight and I missed her. Terribly. I know it’s pitiful, but I mirror my schedule to hers as best I can every week. I tell myself it’s so I can drive her to work and I don’t have to worry about her finding a ride home since she doesn’t have a car. Not that she’s my responsibility or anything.

Really, I just want to spend as much time with her as possible.

But today I couldn’t make it happen. We needed more coverage in the restaurant tomorrow night for a special event, so I had to give her a different night off than usual.

Tonight I worked on the next two weeks’ schedule and made sure we’d be working every night together. I have to take what I can get, considering she’s leaving me. Forever. She’s pissed at me and I can’t blame her. I’m the one who had her exactly where I wanted her last night. Half-naked and warm and soft, her body beneath mine in her bed. Her eyes, her entire face, open and full of so much hope, so much want. Seeing all that, spread out before me like the most perfect offering ever created, overwhelmed the hell out of me.

So I gave her some bullshit excuse and walked out.

No wonder she’s done with me. If I were her, I’d be done with me too.

I left work early because I couldn’t take it anymore and besides, business was dead. Wednesday nights are notoriously quiet. The college students seem to pretend they’re studying that one night a week more than any other. Considering it’s still early in the semester, the majority of them probably are. They all start out with good intentions, but it goes south quick. Plus, there are so many weekly events in the downtown area that bring the kids out in droves. Thirsty Thursday is a big one, the kickoff for the entire weekend.

May as well rest up considering the next few days ahead, as usual.

Entering the house, I see there’s only one light on in the kitchen, the dim one over the sink. The house is quiet, no TV on, and I glance around pointlessly, knowing Jen isn’t there. If she were, I’d sense her. Smell her. Feel her.