Damaged

YOUR NOVEL TITLE

by Your Name

dam·age
/ˈdamij/ noun plural noun:
damages

1. 1. physical harm caused to something in such a way as to impair its value, usefulness, or normal function
   

Humans are resilient. They have a gift for recovering from pain and heartbreak. That isn’t to say that the experience doesn’t leave a mark. Some people are just better at hiding their marks than others.

Some people wear them for everyone to see, unapologetically. Some people bury them. They hide behind a mask of indifference and the illusion of perfection. That doesn’t mean those people don’t hurt just as much as everyone else. They are just better at hiding it.

But inside, deep down in that place we hide from even ourselves, we are all just a little bit...Damaged.

Chapter One

I grew up looking out my bedroom window and seeing the sparkling lights that belonged to New York City. Those lights were like beacons to me, whispering tales of excitement and purpose. I imagined what my life would be like if I lived in the glow of that bustling city. I dreamed of the things I’d do, the people I’d meet. The possibilities seemed as endless as the lights in the distance. As I grew older my dreams about the city changed, but my love for it never faded. There was an engergy and pulse in New York City completely unlike the sleepy slow pace of the suburb I lived in. I didn’t know then that my sleepy suburb was hiding many, many secrets. I didn’t know that one fatal incident would forever taint my view of New York, and I had no way of knowing that the most dangerous place to me would become my own home.

As children we glamorize growing up and everything adult. It seems so adventurous to do the simplest things. There’s power in being older and being in control of your life. But the glamor fades and the sparkle fades from our eyes. Just as my love of the city faded, so to did my desire to grow up. I wished that someone else could make the hard choices for me. I wished there was a map or list of rules to guide me in my decision making. I’d done so many stupid things and made so many bad choices and I wanted so badly to regain that since of wonderment and adventure about living, but it wasn’t simple anymore. Nothing was ever going to be simple again.

Present

Sometimes I wonder if what we are doing is wrong. I’m married. Sure, my husband is a cheating bastard, but isn’t it my responsibility to respect what we once had? We have stayed together because of his image, because we both worked hard to get him into office. It would ruin everything if my affair were to come out. But being with him feels worth it. He makes me feel beautiful and valued for myself and not for the image I project. He brings something out in me that I never knew I had. I didn’t know I could be passionate the way I am with him. Maybe I should end it. Probably. Definitely. But I won’t. Because this powerful strong man wants me, and as long as that still holds true, he can have me. Whenever he wants.

I felt warm hands brush my cheeks, and the warmth of a body looming behind me where I sat in the chair. There was a palpable tension a building of some emotion that intensified with each moment that passed without either of us speaking.

“You didn’t wait for me like I asked.” He said, his voice laced with barely controlled anger.

“I’m not going to come when you call and then heel while you go about your business. I have enough of that at home.” I said, equally angry. How dare he ask me to meet him and then have the nerve to be mad when I left because he was an hour and a half late.

“Coming when I tell you has never been a problem before.” He said softly into my ear. The heat in his voice sent a shiver through my body.

It wasn’t fair to use my desire for him to his advantage. I was angry with him, rightfully so, but just that one quiet reminder of our passion changed the course of my thoughts.

“I’m sorry I was late. Your husband has been causing me problems with the case he has mounted against me. He has half my clients worried about the loss they are going to take if I’m convicted. I had to make a lot of promises to keep them from taking their business elsewhere. Unfortunately for your husband, I don’t make idle promises. I have no plans of going to jail.”

As he was speaking he pulled the pins out of my hair so that it tumbled in a riot of curls down my back. I didn’t speak, couldn’t speak. I couldn’t do anything but feel his closeness and feel the power he had over me.

“Do you forgive me, darling?” He asked his accent making the words sound soft and sweet.

“Yes.” I whispered, powerless do say anything but yes. I could deny him nothing.

“Why don’t we go to bed?” He pulled me up and pulled me so that our mouths almost touched. Instead of initiating a kiss he built the tension by holding himself there. So close and yet not touching. Then he smiled that roguish grin he was famous for and picked me up carrying me back to the bedroom.

Chapter Two

Two Months Earlier

I dashed frantically from room to room checking for my missing earring. I knew it was here somewhere. Dammit. I was already late to dinner and now this. Shit. I didn’t say the words out loud, anticipating that the second I did he would walk by, hear me, and lecture me for ten minutes about my language and making us even later. I knew this meeting was important to Brett. This guy we were meeting for diner, Jackson Hart, was a powerful man in business and had connections he could use to cause problems for Brett in his new role as District Attorney.

Brett was newly elected and trying very hard to create a name for himself. He has always had political aspirations and I was well acquainted with what was expected of me, but I was losing patience with my husband. I’d fallen out of  love with him a while ago, but I stayed at first because of my need to fulfill the promises I  made when I married him, but we he continued having affairs and flaunting them in my face, I stayed because his mother had become my mother and she was dying. I couldn’t break her heart now, not when she was fighting for her life.

Brett yelled up to me again from his place at the door. I didn’t pay attention to his words, I knew what he was saying even if I didn’t hear him. He’d become a parrot recently, always saying the same things about appearances and poise. I wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, but I refused to let him see how his words affected me. I hated that I even cared what he thought. I shouldn’t, but my traitorous heart still sought his approval even though I’d gotten used to not having it. I wasn’t in love with him anymore, but I’d known him since I was a child, and I still hoped one day he’d just go back to being the sweet thoughtful boy he used to be. I knew logically that it was an impossibility, but I still hoped nonetheless.

I finally found the earring I was looking for and ran down the flights of stairs, stopping in a hurry once I reached the bottom. I knew my actions would rile him up, but I seemed to keep doing the same things anyway. It was the only way to hurt him, I suppose, and I wanted him to feel the same pain I felt every time I looked at him, seeing the changes I hated.

“Are you finally ready? You’ve been running around like a madwoman. Your hair is a mess. You know I like it to be up when we go out. Unfortunately we don’t have time for you to fix it. Come on. The car has been waiting for fifteen minutes.” Brett huffed and opened the door, not bothering to let me go first. Typical. He was the most important person in his life.

The ride to the restaurant was made in silence. He spent the whole time on his phone as if he couldn’t be bothered to make conversation with me. He was an important man, after all.

The car came to a smooth stop and Brett waited for the driver to open the door before pocketing his phone and turning to me.

“This is an important dinner. Don’t speak. Just smile and look supportive. I need this man to like me. He’s got powerful connections and not all of them are on the right side of the law. He could make things hard for me and I don’t want that.” He squeezed my arm hard enough to bruise and I winced. I just nodded my head and kept silent.

We walked into the restaurant and the Maitre d’ helped me take off my coat. I knew Brett would be pissed as soon as he saw the dress I was wearing.  It was a bright emerald green and looked amazing next to my fire red hair, but it didn’t look sweet and demure. My wardrobe was a giant ‘fuck you’ to Brett and looking at him as he grabbed me by the arm, he knew it.

“You’re going to pay if you fuck this up for me, you stupid bitch.” He jerked my arm and directed me to follow the hostess to our seats in a private room.

I could the shape of a man standing by the door of our private dining room. He appeared to be taller than Brett and considerably larger. The hostess gestured for us to go in and Brett pulled me again, this time causing me to lose my balance and lose my footing in my too tall heels. I closed my eyes, anticipating the fall, and was surprised when a warm body, instead of a hard floor collided with me. I opened my eyes and my green crashed into his startling blue. I gasped a little, taken aback by his beauty. I’d never seen a man so beautiful and perfect looking. His hair was dark and smoothed back from his face allowing me to see the strong masculine features.

I was tugged from his arms by Brett who chattered nervously trying to make sure my fall didn’t bring the negotiations to a halt before they ever got started.

“Sorry.” I whispered. I was intimidated by this man and the presence he commanded.

“No problem at all. I’m just glad you are all right. I’d hate to see a bruise mar your perfect skin.” He said looking pointedly at the bruise that had already developed on my arm from Brett in the car. I tilted my head towards Brett and looked at Jackson Hart. He frowned but didn’t say anything.

I probably shouldn’t have answered his unasked question but I was so surprised that he even noticed it. I imagined that he didn’t miss anything.

“Please, have a seat, both of you. I had them chill a bottle of wine for us. I hope you like wine.” He said gesturing towards the table and chairs. He walked over and pulled a chair out for me and I thanked him quietly as I sat down. He leaned uncomfortably close as he pushed in the chair. He made me nervous, I could feel his eyes on me, speculating.

I looked to my right at Brett and he was frowning at me. I fought the desire to roll my eyes. As if I had any control over how close Jackson Hart got to me when he pushed in my chair.

Jackson sat down and poured us both a glass of wine. I picked up mine and sipped in trying to be polite. I’d never enjoyed the taste of wine but my eyes widened when I discovered that this wine tasted amazing. I looked across the table to Jackson and caught his eye. He smiled at me, noticing my enjoyment of the wine.

Brett chose that moment to being talking about his plans as District Attorney. We live in a suburb of New York, home to businessmen, their trophy wives, and a fair amount of crime bosses. Everyone in Hartsdale knew about the criminal element but had grown up learning to ignore it and keep their mouths shut. Everyone in the town knew someone who was in connected to them in some way, it was just the way things were, the way things had always been.

I tuned out the conversation between the men and focused instead on my wine glass. I was enjoying it immensely and Jackson kept refilling it for me. He didn’t seem any more interested in Brett’s speech than I was. He kept glancing at me with his brows furrowed in thought.

At one point I thought I heard Brett say something about whistles and that made me giggle. Brett couldn’t whistle, not even when he was younger. He was ten years older than me, so by the time I began tormenting him, he was older. I drove him crazy following him around the neighborhood whistling. I was an obnoxious kid, always bothering him and pranking him. I would pull a prank on the older people of the neighborhood and blame Brett. I’d put on my cute face and pout a little and they’d fall for the act, and blame him. It wasn’t until I grew a pair of boobs and graduated high school that he paid any attention to me as a female, and then only because his mom talked him into taking me out on a date. I was infatuated with him. He was so suave and so together. He was 28 and a lawyer. He seemed so mature next to all the other guys that I dated, and he was so great at first. It wasn’t until I graduated from college and we got married that our relationship lost it’s sparkle. He didn’t think I needed a job beyond helping him with his. I went along with it at first, taken in by his charisma and grandiose idea’s about changing the world. I wanted to believe that he would get over his need to keep me at home, but he kept me so busy, giving me little jobs to do that seemed so important to an idealistic young adult. It took me a while to realize that he didn’t use anything I did, he just wanted me to stick around. He needed me to make him look steady and reliable. I’m not sure that he ever really loved me at all, but now it’s too late. I’m stuck in this holding pattern, living for his whims and waiting for him to lose it.

Jackson caught my attention then, by calling my name. Our food had arrived, which was a good thing since I was well on my way to being tipsy and pretty close to the point of not caring about making a good impression. Now that I wasn’t lost in my thoughts I could see that Jackson kept watching me. It made me nervous and excited all at the same time. I wasn’t used to getting a lot of male attention, I didn’t go out in public often enough. I’d had men flirt with me, not knowing I was with Brett, but whatever it was that made him look at me like that made me feel giddy and wanted. Maybe it was the wine clouding my thoughts but in those moments I knew that he wanted me, that he was attracted to me, and I could tell he knew that I was feeling the same attraction.

I ate my dinner caught up in wondering about what it would be like to give in to our attraction. Brett had affairs all the time. Why couldn’t I do the same? It would really piss Brett off, I smiled to myself, imagining it. To him, he was the man and perfectly entitled to a wondering eye, but I was the woman and shouldn’t have desires. He had such an archaic idea about women and sexuality. If women liked sex they were sluts and if they flaunted their bodies and enjoyed having men look at them, they were asking for men to take advantage.

Jackson tried to engage me in the conversation while we were eating. I would start to answer and Brett would talk over me, making sure that I didn’t say anything that he didn’t approve of. Jackson would simply raise an elegant brow at me and look at me, silently asking me why I allowed Brett to talk for me. I just shrugged and ate my meal and enjoyed the wine that kept appearing in my glass. I’d learned to pick my battles by now, and this battle wasn’t one worth waging in public in front of this powerful, sexy man. I’d like to spent my time doing much more fun things with Jackson Hart.

“It was lovely meeting you, Lily.” Jackson said pulling out my chair. “I do hope we run into each other again soon.”

I smiled into his eyes and let the wine talk for me. “I’d love that.”

He held out my coat for me and I put my arms through the sleeves. His hands brushed mine, placing a squire of paper in them. I clutched it into my fist and then placed it in my pocket giving him a barely detectable nod. I was insanely curious about the piece of paper in my pocket, but I knew it would have to wait. It was obviously not meant for Brett’s eyes and I didn’t want to risk him seeing it.

Brett smiled his fake Ken doll smile and put his arm around me squeezing me just a little too tight. I grimaced a little, keeping my head turned so he wouldn’t see my repulsion. Jackson saw it though, of course. The man didn’t miss anything.

Brett and I walked stiffly to the waiting car and I slid in first, knowing I was going to get an earful on the way home.

“Why did you have to act like such a little slut, Lily? I saw you mooning over him all through dinner. I’m sure he saw it too, you were painfully obvious. You’re such a child sometimes. You can’t hide anything, every emotion is always painfully clear just by looking at you.” He ranted for a while and I tuned him out. Maybe he could tell that I was attracted to Jackson, but I knew he didn’t notice that Jackson was also just as attracted to me. I would point it out to him just to get a rise but I knew he would just mock me. It would serve him right if I took a lover. I would get as much enjoyment out of pissing him off as I would from the sex itself.