Tears of the Broken (30 page)

“
Well, I’ve been playing for a
very
long time.” He
laughed, though it sounded more like a release of tension. He
plucked the notes slowly, rolling his head to one side and closing
his eyes as the midday sun beamed across his
neck.

In
comparison to David, my musical ability is sub-standard, clumsy
even. I hate that. He shook his head, for God knows what reason,
then strummed an A minor—my favourite chord—and smiled.

“
Why
are you smiling like that?” I asked.

Without a word, he shuffled over and picked a grape off the
bunch, then popped it in his mouth and chewed it thoughtfully. “I
wanna play you a song.”

“
Okay.” I sat up more and put the grapes back in the basket.
“Is it a song I know?”

He
looked forward and pressed his lips together. “You might. It’s by
Ponder.” He plucked the strings a few times, then added, “It’s
called Providence?” David took a breath, closing his eyes as his
long, elegant fingers pressed the frets, flowing along the neck of
the guitar without thought.

I
picked through my music brain. I haven’t heard this one before and
don’t recognise the melody at all. The wind-chime notes, as my mind
wandered away, carried me to another place—a dream-like world where
emotions are displayed in melody. This one, with its harmony
balancing on the edge of sadness, would be the song of a night sky
that fell in love with the sun.

David strummed once, then started singing, plucking the notes
again. “The skies were grey, my heart was black—but she fought the
darkness of my day. I’ve found a love that’s real, and now, I’ll
never let it fade.” The notes of the song started on a low tone and
rolled softly up through the scale, his voice carrying them as
though they were precious stones—an instrument all on its own. He
puts my singing to shame.

David looked at me, his lips turning up into that sexy smile.
He tried to hold it back, but it crept onto his face anyway. “She
smiled at me, and in one kiss, gave me strength to stand the night.
Now I’m lost again, but to love, no end—she’s my destiny, my
light.

“
Eternally I wandered, without hope, just wasting time. But if
I wake beside her every morn’, then the sun will always
rise.”

A
tight pull, like the blood in my brain suddenly gained ten pounds,
filled my skull. I closed my eyes, surrounding my thoughts with his
perfect voice. He makes me want to cry, to be a part of that song,
a part of him—and though I can’t see anything but the golden light
turning my eyelids red underneath, I can feel the colour of the
lake around me—an image carved out in notes—David’s
notes.

The
last of his song hovered in my subconscious for a moment, and I
wiped my fingertips under my eyes.

“
Ara? You’re crying.” Sudden warmth spread through my cheek,
and the bright red glow under my eyelids became shadowed as David
knelt in front of me—his hot, sun-kissed fingers on my face,
pressing it against his heart.

With
a laugh, I pulled away from his chest and wiped my face with both
hands. “I’m sorry, David, it’s just that…” I nodded toward the
guitar, lying abandoned on the rug, “music is something that comes
from a really deep place in me. I feel things so much, so
completely, and that song—” I leaned back and looked into his
emerald eyes. “It was so beautiful.”

“
It
reminds me of you, Ara.” His gaze penetrated my watery barrier and
made my heart forget how to beat.

“
Why?”

“
Don’t you see how much I’m in love with you?” He grabbed my
face and rested his fingers under my hair at the back of my neck.
“Don’t you get it? Forever doesn’t have to be a curse for me. Not
anymore—not now that I have you.”

Motionless, breathless, with the only connection to the real
world being the burning sun above, my mind fought for reason. “But
we don’t get to live forever.”

“
What if we did? What if you could have an eternity with me?”
His thumb pressed into my cheek a little. “Would you take
it?”

“
If there was such a magic in the world.” A
soft breeze cooled the top of my head and a peaceful serenity
encased us. “If eternity were real—I’d give my
soul
to spend it with
you.”

“
Ara?” A shadow lowered in front of my face. “Open your eyes.
Look at me and say that.”

I
didn’t know they were closed. The sun brought momentary blindness
with its bright glare as I looked at David. “Say what
again?”

David studied me carefully, his brow tight in the middle.
Nearby, bee’s buzzed with a gentle hum and a few birds chattered
noisily in the treetops above us, but David’s round eyes stared,
glassy and distant as his lips sat parted—and no words came out. At
last, he closed his eyes and turned his head to the side. Did I say
something wrong, why is he frowning?

As
he dropped his hand from my cheek, shifting away from me with the
weight of a rock on his shoulders, a cool breath lifted my chest in
a long, slow gasp, and a strange pull of energy—or maybe
warmth—detached from the physical space between us, like hot
ribbons had tied us together, and now, had turned to chains of
ice.

A
spell has been broken.

The
cold breath rushed out of my lungs quickly, tightening my throat as
it escaped, and the foggy cloud of confusion pushed out through my
mind like a bubble bursting from inside my head. As clarity came
rushing back, leaving a dull twinge of pain above my eye, I touched
my fingertips to the racing pulse between my collarbones. “David? I
feel dizzy.”

“
It’s okay.” He grabbed my shoulders and rolled me onto his
lap, then soothingly stroked my hair from my face.

“
What just happened? I feel so sick.” I snuggled my cheek
against his denim jeans and closed my eyes as an icy torrent of
blood drained all the warmth from my cheeks, and a rush of bile
pinched the back of my tongue.

“
Come on.” David patted my back and lifted me to sit. “You
need to eat. You get dizzy when you’re hungry.”

I
forced a smile. Oh, I feel silly, now. “It surprises me sometimes
how well you know me.” But that was different, I’m sure of it. That
felt more like my soul had been connected to his for a split
second. I felt so drawn to him, like I could’ve stayed there
forever—died in his arms and have been grateful for that one, close
moment. Now it’s gone—that warmth, the breathtaking intensity of
our bodies so close to each other—I want it back. I feel like it
belonged to me, and now it’s been ripped away.

David shuffled over and leaned his back against the rock
while I swallowed every agonising bite of the food he handed
me—forcing it down with orange juice because my mouth refused to
make saliva. In fact, my body refused to do anything
normal—including breathe properly.

“
Did
you feel that?” I looked up from under my lashes, pinching the
edges of a sandwich. “Before—when we were close?”

“
Feel what?” He shrugged.

I
dropped the sandwich onto the rug and let my mouth hang open. “You
big fat liar!”

“
I’m
not lying.”

“
Yes—” I got to my knees, “you are.”

“
Okay. Fine. I might know what you’re
talking about—but that does
not
mean I felt it.” He sighed heavily and threw his
sandwich into the basket, then sat back against the rock, folding
his arms.

“
Well, what was that? What was I feeling?”

“
Love?” When he pulled one shoulder up to his ear, mine
dropped. Real convincing, David. “I don’t know, Ara. What am I, a
scientist?”

“
You
do know, don’t you?” I looked over at the picnic basket. “Did you
drug those grapes?”

David laughed. “Ara? Why would I do—”

“
Then what was that?” I cut in. “It didn’t feel natural, and I
know you know something about it. I saw how you looked at me—” I
pointed at him; he shook his head, smiling down at his folded arms.
“You felt it, too. I know you did. Now tell me what it
was.”

“
I’m
not going to fight with you,” he said calmly.

“
I’m
not fighting.”

“
Then drop it.”

“
No. Don’t you think if I felt a…” I
searched my mind for the right word, “a
gravitational pull
toward you, like
my soul just split in two and then,” my nose crinkled and I
scrunched an imaginary piece of paper between my palms, “was
suddenly forced back together, that if you felt it, too, or if you
know
why
I felt
it—you should tell me?”

“
Gravitational pull?” His brow rose and he leaned forward a
little with his forearm resting over his knee.

Oh,
my God. I’m such an idiot. “You didn’t feel that.” How stupid of
me. Of
course
he
didn’t. I was in my own little world—just like always.

After rubbing his forehead viciously, he swept his hands
through his hair and sat back against the rock again. “Can we drop
this? Please?”

I
looked down at the ant-covered bread in front of me and blinked
back the tears. I feel so stupid.

“
Ara.” His voice commanded I look at him; I shook my head.
“Ara, please. Look at me.”

“
Why?”

“
Please?” Reluctantly, I rolled my face upward. His golden
smile warmed when he noticed my tear-stained cheeks. “Oh,
sweetheart. I’m sorry.” He reached out to me. “You know how I feel
about you—”

“
Do
I?”

“
I
hope you do.” He dropped his outstretched hand.

“
You
said you love me, but you don’t prove it.”

“
What do you mean?”

“
In
love, there’s supposed to be trust. Why won’t you ever tell me
anything?”

“
I
tell you lots of things.”

“
But
not what that feeling was—or if you felt it, too?” I nodded to the
place on the rug where we’d been sitting during
the…moment.

David sighed and looked away. “What that was has nothing to
do with how I—” he clenched his fist in obvious frustration. “You
are one of the most stubborn damn girls I’ve ever met.” He looked
back at me. “Do you know that?”

I
bit my lip and looked down. I shouldn’t have pressed
him.

Out
of nowhere, David appeared in front of me, gently lifting my face
to look at him. “And do you know what else, Ara?”

“
No.”

“
It’s also one of the most charming things about
you.”

A
smile escaped through my misery, and I caught the gleaming in
David’s eyes as I looked at him, holding it to my memory for when
we’re no longer together.

“
No
more tears, okay?” he said, then tugged my hand until I came to sit
beside him against the rock.

“
Okay.” I nodded as I nestled the crown of my head under his
chin, placing my hand over the cotton shirt that barely contained
the coolness of his skin underneath. I’m sure he’s getting
colder—he was so warm when we were lying on my bed
earlier.

After a deep exhale, his strong arms fell around my shoulders
and he squeezed me closer for a second. “Let’s just enjoy the rest
of the day. We’ll talk about things another time, all
right.”

I
nodded, though I didn’t agree. I want him to tell me what he knows,
but he won’t, and my head isn’t clear enough to argue with him
right now.

But
make no mistake, David Knight, I
will
bug you about it
later.

With
my head in the lap of the incredibly cute boy that I couldn’t stop
staring at on my first day of school, I watched the puffy clouds
move across the sky, letting the tickle of sweat from the summer
heat roll down my chest and soak into my green cotton
dress.

As
the day had rolled on, David avoided talking to me about
the…moment. Instead, he asked me a lot about home—about my mum and
Mike, and didn’t back down until I answered every question. But I
found that, somehow, when I spoke to him about home, the good
memories, I could do it without wanting to cry. It was like he
seemed to form an invisible barrier around me that shrouded me from
all the pain—a bulletproof vest in the shape of a boy.

I
could just
be
,
with him, and that was nice.

“
I
don’t know.” David squinted, holding his hand in the air to shadow
his brow. “I think it looks more like a bee.”

“
No
way,” I scoffed, outlining the cloud with my fingertip, “See? Long
tail, giant wings. It’s a dragon,” I concluded, tucking my hands
into my elbows.

“
Okay, you’re right. It’s a bee.” David chuckled; I punched
him in the arm—a little lighter than I would Sam.

“
Ouch.” He rubbed his chest.

“
What are you doing?” I laughed. “I punched you in the
arm.”

“
Yeah, but it hurt here.” He rested his palm flat over his
left rib.