Broken (Surrender Book 1)
Broken: Chapter 20

THE WORLD SEEMED DIFFERENT, odd even, without the assurance in knowing that Conner was mine. Day in and day out, I functioned on autopilot. I went through the motions of being polite, agreeable, and sociable. I wore a smile on my face during most times, even when all I wanted to do was curl into a ball under my covers and cry myself to sleep.

‘Novalee, hi. How are you?’ Lydia beamed. I stopped by Conner’s office on my way to school.

‘I’m good, thanks,’ I lied.

Just in case I ran into Conner, I made it a point not to look as bad as I felt. I now understood why Conner always took great effort in looking impeccable at all times. The more put together you looked on the outside, the easier to hide the personal hell you were really going through on the inside. I had rummaged through my closet for an hour, trying to replace the perfect outfit. I stood in front of the mirror much longer than usual, attempting to perfect the wave and volume of my curls. I even wore more makeup than usual, trying to disguise the bags under my eyes from sleepless nights.

‘That dress is to die for. Green is definitely your color,’ she complimented, referring to the sea-green ruffled summer dress I wore.

‘Thank you, Lydia. Hey, can you see to it that Conner gets this? No need to disturb him.’ I handed her a manila envelope.

She furrowed her brows. ‘Conner isn’t in today. He’s been out sick all week.’

My tight smile remained in place. ‘Oh, of course.’ I took the envelope back from her. ‘Well, never mind then. I’ll be sure he gets it.’

‘Okay, sounds good. Have a great day, Novalee.’ She smiled before answering her ringing phone.

I held the jingling envelope against my chest as I descended the top floor and exited out into the street. I slipped my oversized sunglasses on and headed to my car. I hadn’t spoken to Conner in over a week, our last conversation still haunted me. Once in my car, I looked down at the envelope that now rested in the passenger’s seat of my Lexus. It contained my copy of his house keys, the keys to the condo in Chicago, and the information to a safety deposit box that housed millions of dollars’ worth of jewels that he had gifted me throughout our relationship. Except for the pendant necklace. I couldn’t bear to give that up. The Porsche Cayenne Turbo S had already been transported back to his place. I loved that car, but it held too many memories of us christening the back seat.

I drove to the post office in a daze, my mind continually replaying our breakup, as it often did. I knew that I had to walk away. He left me no choice. But why did it have to hurt so damn bad?

WEEK FOUR POST BREAK up. Four weeks of loneliness and misery. The only communication from Conner had been through text messages, a lot of drunk text messages. Text messages that stole my peace, trampled my heart, racked my brain, and threatened my sanity.

Conner, 9/4, 1am

I miss you

Conner, 9/4, 5:42am

I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I can’t breathe without you.

Conner, 9/5, 2:15am

You were too good for me.

Conner, 9/5, 3:00am

Watching you walk out that door gutted me, but it was what I deserved.

Conner, 9/5, 4:02am

I’m so drunk right now. I just want to be numb.

Conner, 9/5, 10:02am

Answer your phone. I need to hear your voice. Please, angel.

Conner, 9/6, 12:47am

What th fuckk, Novalee? Answer the FUCKING PHONE. Is someone

Conner, 9/6, 12:47am

Is someone there with you?? I swear to fuckiing Godif Marcus iss there wi

Conner, 9/6, 12:48am

With you, I will fucking kill him. I’ve called you 15. No

Conner, 9/6. 12:48am

17 fucking times!

Conner, 9/6, 7:01am

I wish I never fucking met you. Then I wouldn’t want to rip my fucking heart out.

Conner, 9/6, 10:08am

How many bottles will it take to forget about you? 2? 3?

Fuck it. I guess I’ll replace out

Conner, 9/6, 11:03am

What the fuck do I pay him for??? He won’t drive me to your place. And I’mm to fucked up to

Conner, 9/6. 11:03am

drive myself. ANSWWER YOUR FFUCKING PHONEEE ioedjjiokl

Conner, 9/6, 2:03pm

2 bottles… Still in my head. Fuckkk it. I’mm done.

Novalee, 9/6, 2:03pm (to Quentin)

I’m worried about Conner. Can you check on him? I’m calling you now.

Quentin, 9/6, 2:10pm

Just got your message. I’m on my way to his place now.

Novalee, 9/6, 2:11pm (to Quentin)

Thank you. I called Colin. He found Conner passed out drunk. He really needs a friend right now. It just can’t be me. I hope you understand. Please let me know how he’s doing.

Quentin, 9/6, 2:11pm

I understand and agree. I’m calling you now…

Conner, 9/8, 9pm

I’m so fucking sorry, angel. Please forgive me.

Conner, 9/10, 3:12am

I’ll love you forever

With each passing day, the tears slowly subsided, and the text messages from Conner ceased. But my worry…it intensified tenfold. I wondered how he was really doing. Especially at night, when it was quiet, and he was left alone with only his thoughts. Was he okay? Was he safe? Was he alone? Was he sober?

School and work served as two distractions, forcing me to climb out of bed every day to face the land of the living. In the evening before bed, I occupied myself with mind-numbing tasks, like cleaning my apartment or peeling the nail polish off my fingernails.

My new followers on social media, who had only taken an interest in me when I became Conner’s girlfriend, now despised me. People went nuts over the infamous kissing photo of Amy and me. I was labeled as a cheating gold digger. Conner was way out of my league, they said. How dare I partake in a lesbian affair with my best friend behind his back. Many speculated that it was a threesome affair that had gone wrong. I swear I can’t make this stuff up.

Once pictures of me sporting a noticeable baby bump came out, the bloggers went crazy. Helena had tagged me in a photograph of us posing together at her birthday party. I was wearing a form-fitting cocktail dress, my noticeable bump on full display. A plethora of comments and questions followed. Was Conner the father? Was Andre Johnston the father? Andre had recently hit the like button on a few of my photos, so people began to speculate. Never mind the fact that I hadn’t spoken to Andre in years, and he was now dating an uber-famous R&B singer. Conner, on the other hand, was labeled a reformed playboy who fell for the wrong girl. Go figure, right?

Instead of shutting down my social media accounts like I’d done in the past, I ignored the haters and continued to live my life unapologetically. I did, however, disable the comment feature on all my social media accounts and unfollowed Conner. It was torture, seeing the swarms of women throwing themselves at him, hoping to be his rebound chick. The last thing I wanted to do was have a front-row seat to that debauchery. I could only imagine all the women who wanted to get a taste of the newly single, sexy-as-sin billionaire who made girls’ panties cream with just one look from him. Maybe they’d already had a taste. That thought kept me up at night.

∞∞∞

‘DAMN IT!’ I TURNED the key in the ignition again, only to hear a clicking sound. I rested my head against the steering wheel. This couldn’t have happened at a more inconvenient time. I was going to be late for my sonogram appointment. After calling my dad, I fired off a text message to Conner. Grabbing my things, I headed back into the boutique and waited on my ride.

‘He’s here,’ Skylar announced, peeking into the break room and grinning like a Cheshire cat.

‘Thanks, Sky. I’ll be out in a sec.’

She pushed her glasses up her nose. ‘He’s really hot, but kind of scary. He looks really pissed,’ she said in a hushed tone.

Poking my head out of the door, I caught a glimpse of Conner. A few of our female customers lingered nearby, stealing glances of him as they pretended to skim through various spools fabrics. Conner seemed oblivious to their attention as he focused on his phone. His usual scowl was in place, and it seemed to be a bit more hardened. ‘He always looks like that,’ I shrugged.

Pushing her glasses up on her nose again, a nervous twitch of Skylar’s, she cleared her throat. ‘Well, I better get back to the register.’

‘Okay, Sky. I’ll be right there.’ I fluffed my hair and smoothed my hands down my mini dashiki dress. I closed my eyes and inhaled and exhaled deeply. I steadied my nerves by rubbing my round belly. Here goes nothing.

Conner didn’t notice me at first, to absorbed in typing on his phone. This gave me a moment to stare at him unnoticed. He looked ridiculously sexy and flawless in a Brioni charcoal gray pinstripe suit. Skylar looked up from the register, her sky-blue eyes landing on a formidable Conner. Her butterscotch cheeks flushed a rose pink. ‘See you tomorrow, Novalee,’ she piped. Conner looked up from his phone at the sound of my name.

‘See you later, Sky,’ I said to her while my eyes were glued on my ex.

Conner’s five o’clock shadow begged to be touched. And if he were still mine, I would have, before running my fingers through his silky mane and kissing him madly.

‘Hey.’ He approached me and reluctantly embraced me like we were casual acquaintances and not past lovers and soon to be parents. ‘You look beautiful, as always,’ he said, before lightly brushing his fingers across my expanded belly. Conner’s eyes scanned over me as if he were cataloging my features into memory. I fidgeted under his fiery gaze. And then the spell was broken. His eyes were suddenly frosty. ‘You ready?’ he asked as he impatiently looked down at his Rolex.

‘Yep. All set.’ I looked away and adjusted my purse strap on my shoulder.

There was awkwardness between us on the car ride. I sightlessly stared out of the window. ‘I’ll see to it that your car is taken care of,’ Conner finally said.

‘No need. I already called my dad. He’s going to take care of it.’ Conner wordlessly nodded. ‘Happy belated birthday, by the way.’ His birthday was a week ago.

‘Thank you.’

‘Did you do anything special?’ I looked over at him expectantly.

‘No,’ he said after a beat, as he looked straight ahead. ‘I slept through most of it.’ I silently wondered if a bottle of bourbon was involved.

∞∞∞

WE SAT IN CONNER’S parked car, both staring ahead and seemingly lost in our own thoughts. ‘I’m sorry,’ he finally said. I felt his eyes on me and looked over to meet his stare. ‘You didn’t deserve all the ridicule from the blogs and on social media.’

I shrugged. ‘Someone had to be painted as the villain. According to naysayers, our relationship had an expiration date from the start. This town loves your family. I was always the outsider in their eyes.’

‘They don’t love my family. They only fear us. My family is far from perfect. You have no idea.’

‘Someone once told me not to care about what people think of me. It’s quite liberating. Having zero fucks to give.’ I smiled faintly.

‘Whoever told you that sounds like a real douche,’ he smirked.

‘Well….’ I lightly teased.

After a few beats, he said, ‘I’m sorry for the shitty comment I made about having a threesome with Amy. It was tasteless and disrespectful. I didn’t mean any of it.’

I still felt the aftershocks from that conversation. I turned my head from him and stared out of my side window. Blinking back tears, I said, ‘I appreciate it. Apology accepted.’

‘I’m sorry I let you down, angel.’

Angel. I squeezed my eyes shut at his affectionate nickname for me. I felt his fingertips brush my hand before lacing his fingers with mine. My fingers remained limp in his grasp. ‘I hope that one day, I can be the man you need. The man that you deserve. A man that’s worthy of you.’

Conner was the man that I needed and the only man that I’d ever truly loved down to my soul. Why didn’t he see that? ‘I guess we better head in,’ I said forlornly.

‘Let’s,’ he said on a sigh, before reluctantly releasing my hand.

∞∞∞

WERE ABLE TO see clear images of our babies. Conner and I both watched the screen in awe, our babies stretching and sucking their tiny fists. ‘Thank you,’ Conner said before kissing my forehead. I squeezed his hand, a bevy of emotions swarming around inside of my chest and head. We both agreed to wait until the gender reveal party to replace out the genders. The sonographer sealed the results in an envelope for me to give to my party planner.

After the appointment, I asked Conner to drop me off at my parents’ house. Helena was out of town for a medical conference, but my dad and I had plans to hang out. My dad lived about thirty miles from downtown, and it wasn’t lost on me that Conner drove the longest route to get there, extending our time together. ‘Things better with your father?’ he asked as he drove down the secluded road surrounded by tall willow trees.

‘Actually, yes. He’s really excited about becoming a granddad.’

‘I’m glad to hear it,’ he said like he genuinely meant it. ‘Still hate my guts?’

‘Well…Let’s just say, there won’t be any sharp utensils around at the gender reveal party.’

He laughed heartily. God, I missed that sound. ‘This should be interesting.’

‘Are your parents coming?’ I looked over at him. His laughter died down and was replaced with a somber expression.

‘I don’t think so. Father will be out of town.’

‘And your mother?’

He shook his head. ‘She’s not going to be in our children’s lives.’

I studied him. ‘May I ask why?’ He gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. ‘Does this have to do with her disdain for me?’

‘No.’

‘Then, why?’ I waited for him to say more but soon realized the conversation was over when he remained silent.

He pulled up into my parents’ driveway and turned off the ignition. ‘We always end up here, don’t we? Me wanting more and you shutting me out.’

‘There’s so much you don’t understand, angel. Things I just can’t tell you right now.’

‘You know what? Don’t worry about it,’ I said dishearteningly. I was tired of going around in circles with him. ‘I’ll see you at the gender reveal. Take care of yourself, Conner.’

I reached for the door handle, and he reached out and clasped my hand. ‘Wait.’

I looked up at him and halted. Still foolish enough to have hope.

The pain on his face nearly cracked me in two. After a few moments pause, he said, ‘I’ll walk you.’

I wordlessly nodded and waited for him to round the car and open my door. It wasn’t an easy feat for me, getting out of his low positioned Corvette with a stomach the size of a watermelon. I appreciated his help.

Conner walked beside me up the cobblestone walkway. His hands were in his pockets. My arms were folded over my chest as if I was literally shielding my heart. Once at the threshold, he turned to face me. With our eyes focused on each other’s, he stroked the side of my face with his hand. ‘Don’t give up on me, angel.’

‘You have to deal with your shit. Until then, you and I have nothing to talk about other than our babies.’

He looked down, dejected, his shoulders slumped. ‘You’re right.’ He removed his hand from my face but wrapped an arm around me and pulled me close. ‘I will…I am. I promise,’ he said, before brushing his lips against my forehead. I closed my eyes, relishing in the familiarity of his touch.

The front door abruptly opened, and my father appeared. Conner hesitantly backed up from me and stood rod straight as he looked my father in the eye. ‘Mr. Dumont,’ he said, with a curt nod.

Dad extended a curt nod in return before looking at me. ‘Everything okay, Freckles?’

‘Yeah, daddy. Give us a minute, will you?’ My dad’s jaw ticked as he looked from me to Conner. I raised an eyebrow at my dad and waited for him to retreat into the house. Instead, he folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the door frame.

I rolled my eyes before looking back at Conner. Conner continued to make eye contact with my dad for a few more beats before looking back down at me. He scrubbed the side of his face with the palm of his hand. ‘I’d better go. I’ll call you tomorrow. Maybe we can grab some lunch sometime next week. We can talk. About the babies, of course.’

Real smooth Conner. That ‘talk’ could happen over the phone, but I bit my tongue for two reasons. Number one, as much of a hard ass as I was trying to be, I missed him terribly and wanted nothing more than to spend time with him. Number two, I wanted to end this conversation quickly under the annoying and watchful eye of my dad. Looks like my dad and I were going to have another long discussion about boundaries. ‘Okay, that might work. I’ll check my schedule and let you know.’

‘You do that,’ he said, a small smile curving on his lips. ‘Mr. Dumont. Always a pleasure,’ Conner said sarcastically with a dry chuckle, before turning and walking back to his car.

‘Good Lord, daddy. You need to chillax.’ I strolled past him in the foyer. I headed towards the kitchen, the smell of creole shrimp and grits wafting through my nostrils, causing my stomach to growl.

‘Chillax? Good Lord is right,’ he quipped, fixing us both to heaping bowls of one of his many signature dishes.

The food was delicious and plentiful, and our communication was lighthearted as we watched ESPN. We didn’t talk about Conner. We didn’t talk about Keisha. We didn’t talk about school and my ‘spontaneous and questionable’ decisions as of late. We simply hung out. I was sure those days would come when he’d offer fatherly advice. But today wasn’t one of those days. I simply wanted his company, and he obliged. We were slowly building the father-daughter relationship that I’d always wanted.