Loving the broken pieces

Blake’s Pov

I’m trying to catch my breath as I pace back and forth on the sidewalk. I just assault yet a person. Em is standing in total silence, her eyes lowered to the ground.

“So you have absolutely fucking nothing to say to me? She doesn’t respond. Instead, she kept her eyes receded.

“Em?”

“What, Blake, what do you want?” she barks. What a fuck is going on with her?

“Please tell me, what a fuck you were doing in a bar, along with another man?”

“You tell me, Blake? And how did you know that I am here?”

Is she fucking kidding me?

“I traced your phone. This is not the time to be mad at me, what..”

“Not mad at you? Are you kidding me?”

she interrupts. Anger filled her eyes in seconds.

“Why did a woman answer your phone saying you’re in the shower? What a fuck were you doing?” ok, she got me there. Why in the world would Lee-Ann answer my damn phone?

“She, she is...” The words I’m trying to find don’t seem to match the answer in my head.

“Who is she, Blake?” Em is beyond angry. Her bottom lip shook. I have to come up with something and fast.

“She’s a girl from the club. She’s pregnant, so I’m trying to help her.” I lied again. I keep telling myself that now is the right time to tell her, but seeing her face, the anger and disappointment all over her face. I don’t want to find out how angry she can get when the bomb finally lands on her.

“Oh, I didn’t know.”

She kept quiet for a second.

“You should be asked before finding yourself in a fucking bar.”

“Don’t lecture me, if you were to answer your phone I wouldn't have ended up in a bar, but you chose to play house with a pregnant lady.”

“I didn’t play fucking house with her, I helped her.”

“Fuck you, Blake,” she yells, holding her hand in the air for a taxi.

“Where are you going?” I grabbed her arm.

“Away from you. You’re insane.” She kept her hand in the air.

“Em, we have to talk about this.”

No, you need to come up with a plan. I’m crushed, broken, I’m beaten and all you care about is a damn pregnant lady and only care about yourself, you’re selfish and I’m done with this unhealthy cycle. You warned me and I didn't want to listen? Tell me Is it your child?”

She cries. I have no idea how to fix this, yeah I’m beyond angry about the bar, but she is right. I tried to cover up my fucking past again. I tug at my hair. It’s the first time I ever felt lost for words, or maybe it’s because I have no clue how to handle situations where someone else is hurt other than me.

“I’m sorry.” I manage to say, but she surprised me by laughing at me. Is she drunk?

“No, you don’t get to say sorry, you fucked up, and I have to just forgive and forget about it.”

“I am sorry I.”

“I’m not done.” she interrupts me.

“You think you’re better than other people, you think just because you’re a billionaire and a boxer and have the strength that you’ve earned the right to do as you please, and for the first time I realize I don’t want someone like that in my life.

You’re a bully, for someone that hates abuse and bullying, you’re sure as hell not acting like that, maybe you chose to be a victim.” the words flow like a river out of her mouth. I have nothing to say, instead, I stayed quiet and shocked. I have never seen her this angry, and she chose the one word to hurt me back. ABUSE!

“Are you done?” I ask.

“Yes,” she responded, out of breath.

I held up my hand for a taxi.

“What are you doing?” she asks, surprised.

“Getting you a fucking taxi”

“Are you kidding?”

“No, I’m tired of being fucking someone I’m not. If you can’t love me, broken then fuck you too. I’m done wasting my time trying to walk in shoes that don’t fit me.” Her eyes are big and bloodshot from all the screaming and crying.

“I’m done focusing on being fucking normal, cause I’m not. I’m not some night on a white horse, so stop pretending that I am.

I’m fucked Em, and you won’t change that.” I half pushed her into the taxi and closed the door. The blood is pounding behind my ears. She will never love me the way I am, and I can’t keep pretending to be someone she wants me to be.

As soon as I get back home, Lee-Ann is sitting in the kitchen with ice cream, and fuck knows what else.

“I see you’ve made yourself at home,” I said, opening the fridge to take out a beer.

“Yes, didn’t you say I can stay here until you figured out what to do?”

“I did, but that doesn’t mean you can do as you please.” I scowled at her, placing the beer bottle on the counter. She took the beer bottle off the counter to bring to her lips.

“Yeah well, I need a place to stay, and you burned my place down”

I grab her by both arms, pulling her off the chair before she could take a sip. Her eyes went big as the bottle drops to the floor.

“Listen, you little bitch, I said I will help you, but that doesn't mean you can take advantage of me. I will end you in seconds if you just so much look at alcohol or drugs, do you understand?” I said, still holding her in both her arms. She nods before I let go of her.

“Just go somewhere else,” I said to her. I grab another bottle of beer from the fridge and sit down at the counter.

“Blake, I might have a drug problem, but you have much bigger issues, and I’m not threatening you.” I don’t answer her. I kept my eyes locked on the bottle of beer in front of me. I had enough for one day, and this beer is not strong enough for all the shit going on inside my head.

I move from the Kitchen to the study. I open the drawer. And just as I expected, A bottle of whiskey staring at me.

I crack a bottle of whiskey open and closed my eyes for a while. I know all this shit happening to me now is my own fault, but fuck, surely there must be a point where all this shit ends. Tell the truth, Blake. My self-consciousness creeps in. Emily is the best thing that ever happened to me. I feel alive again, wanted, and I feel I have a purpose in life again, and here I fucked that up.

Emily’s POV

I swiped my card at the nearest hotel.

The guy at the counter looks concerned when he saw his face swollen and red from the crying and booze, but he kept quiet and swipe the card, anyway. He handed me the key to the room, and I gave him a small smile.

As soon as I open the door, I plot down on the bed. I finally broke down in tears. I pulled my legs up to my chin and cried. This entire week was exhausting and emotional. I can’t believe I told Blake he was a victim of abuse. What was I thinking? I tried to help him get out of the state of feeling alone and abused, and here I am, pouring petrol on the fire.

I just want to love him, without fixing him, or saving him from himself. My mother always told me to be careful to love a man that’s broken, you will always live in his shadow, I just never thought that it would happen to me until I fell in love with a man that is broken and I can’t heal him.

“Hope you sleep okay, and I’m sorry for today.” I read the text from Blake, my legs still curled up, and a thousand pounds of pressure lift off my chest reading text.

I made myself a cup of coffee that was placed on the counter in the hotel room.

Blake was beyond angry, but I guess I brought it upon myself. I should’ve listened before I made assumptions, and hurt him most painfully by saying he chose to be abused. My tears finally stopped. I grab the nightgown behind the door and removed my clothes. I need to rest a lot of it. Hopefully, tomorrow will go better.