Broken Bonds (Unbreakable Bonds #1)

Chapter Thirty-Four

chapter thirty-four

CELINE

The first two weeks after my brother left were tough. Amber was a ghost of the girl I knew, and I watched her fade into the background just as I had a few months prior. I hated watching her experience the loneliness I had felt. She didn’t shower, eat, or go to class, and she cried until she fell asleep, staying holed up in her dorm in the dark and not letting anyone in.

After three days of failing to get her out of bed, I dragged her out kicking and screaming. Julian carried her from the apartment to my car and then into my house. I held her as she cried, and I even managed to convince her to start eating again. Her tears felt endless most nights, and I was relieved every time she finally passed out.

Mostly, I was relieved that she really loved my brother.

Ryan had expressed his concerns to me over and over about Amber and her feelings for him, that he feared she would stray after a few weeks apart. Clearly, he didn’t know his girlfriend very well.

Eventually, Amber ran out of tears to shed over the next few days, and between my mom and me, we got her back to class. She kept living with us since we were worried about her mental state, and we didn’t want her alone at any cost. And from what we’d heard about her roommate, she wouldn’t be much help to Amber.

Julian didn’t complain when I canceled our plans last minute for days on end, too worried to leave Amber alone with her thoughts. He just smiled and nodded in understanding before kissing me senselessly. He was a welcome distraction. Some days, I thought he was too good to be true. Granted, he still didn’t light me up inside, but he was nice enough.

Looking up from my phone where I’d been scrolling through Instagram, I saw Amber stagger into the room, her eyes bleary as she blindly reached for a coffee cup to put in the Keurig.

“Mornin’,” she mumbled around a yawn, stretching her nimble arms above her head.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty.” She turned to glare at me while the coffee machine brewed loudly behind her.

“Why are you a bitch so early in the morning?” The final sputtering from the Keurig took her attention away from me.

I rolled my eyes. “First of all, it isn’t morning, Amber. You slept through it.”

She made a grunting noise. “That was my intention. I hate Saturdays now.”

I frowned at her back. She used to spend her Saturdays with Ryan. But it wasn’t like they’d ended everything. They were still together. She still had contact with him. Why couldn’t she see how lucky she was?

“We could have gone for breakfast together again,” I told her, not voicing my thoughts aloud.

She turned around, bringing the steaming cup to her dry lips with another glare. “So, I can watch you make out with Julian the whole time and throw him ‘screw me’ eyes while I’m sitting there bored and lonely? No, thank you.”

I scowled at her. Did she not remember all the times she and my brother were all lovey-dovey with each other while I was struggling to cope with losing Ace?

“No need to be a total bitch about it,” I snapped at her. “Sounds like you woke up with your period this morning.”

She sighed, settling into the chair next to me. “How do you always know?”

“Because I’m your best friend,” I told her, though I didn’t think her being this much of a bitch could be excused with hormones. “Take some Tylenol and get ready. We are going out for lunch. Just you and me.”

She smiled and ran a hand through her red mane of hair as she nodded. “I love you tons.” She quickly finished her coffee and headed for the stairs. My phone vibrated beside my elbow, and I picked it up, sighing at the sight of Julian’s name.

Julian: Hey babe. What are we doing today?

Me: Can we grab lunch tomorrow? I’m taking Amber out today.

Julian: Where? I’ll meet you guys.

Me: No, honey, a girl’s day. She’s struggling to see us together.

Julian: You’re kidding right?

I blinked at his message in surprise. It was the first time he’d been rude over me deciding to go out with Amber, and it threw me for a loop. Maybe he was more upset all those other times than he let on?

Me: Yeah, she just woke up extremely upset.

Julian: This is getting out of hand, babe.

I frowned at his message, my brows furrowing.

Me: I thought you understood?

Julian: I’m sick of you fucking choosing her over me every weekend, babe.

Where was all this coming from? Julian had never complained or even swore at me before. The man texting me now was not the man I’d come to know. What the hell had changed?

Me: What would you like me to do about it?

Julian: Tell her to stop moping like a baby and meet me for lunch. I miss MY girlfriend.

I scowled at his message.

Me: She’s my best friend. I’m not doing that.

Julian: Maybe you should date her then since she’s more important than me.

Me: Don’t be an ass. I’ll see you tomorrow. Go out with the guys tonight.

Julian: Whatever. Maybe I’ll find a girl who actually wants to be my girlfriend and give me some attention for once.

I gaped at his message in disbelief. Had he really… wow. Just fucking… wow.

“I’m starving; let’s go!” Amber was standing in front of me, black sunglasses shading her eyes, purse on her arm, phone in hand. I quickly locked mine, choosing to leave Julian on read and not engage in whatever mess he was trying to create between us.

“Where do you want to go?” I stood up, pushing my phone into my back pocket.

“Anywhere with a decent cheeseburger.”

Sounded like a plan to me.

Julian didn’t text me the rest of the weekend. He didn’t answer my multiple messages on Sunday, and he wasn’t in class on Monday morning either. His lack of response turned me into a ball of nerves as I ran over every possible scenario of why he wasn’t answering.

Amber sidled up beside me in the parking lot after class on Monday, her nose in her phone as she typed away. “Ryan?” I asked.

She nodded, fingers flying across her screen, a big smile on her lips. “Where’s Jules?” she asked, looking up briefly.

I shrugged. “Don’t know.” She didn’t say anything, so immersed in the conversation with my brother that she probably didn’t hear me. But then, she paused, looking at me.

“Wait, what?”

I sighed. “He hasn’t answered me since Saturday, and he wasn’t in class today.”

She frowned at me. “I saw him on campus earlier though.” She scratched her head, messing up her ponytail.

I swallowed, hating the churning in my gut. “I guess he’s avoiding me then.” I tried to sound nonchalant about it, but it kind of hurt. First he was a jerk about me spending Saturday with Amber, and now he was outright avoiding me.

Two girls brushed past us in the parking lot, too involved with their conversation to excuse themselves. “Did you see Julian at the party last night?” one of them gushed excitedly.

My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach. A party?

“Yeah; he was all over some blonde. He must have broken up with Wilson’s sister after he left. About time. I’ve been wanting to screw him for months, but she was in the way.”

A blonde?

Staring at the two girls talking about my boyfriend, my jaw remained slack, my heart now in splinters, and I grabbed Amber’s hand.

Pros of dating a football player in college: everyone knew him.

Cons of dating a football player in college: everyone knew and wanted him, and they hated me for having him.

“I’m going to kill him if he was all over another girl,” Amber quietly seethed from beside me.

“Let me hear his side first,” I urged. “You know how the cheerleaders gossip, Amber.” I had to believe him—not the girls, never the cheerleaders. Fury radiated off Amber’s thin frame, simmering slightly as we got into my car.

“I’m still going to beat the crap out of him.”

“You and what army?” I laughed, trying to play this all off, but she didn’t laugh, her eyes softening as they swept over my face.

I turned my eyes away from her.

An hour later, Julian showed up at my front door, his usual, playful smile teasing me before he leaned in for a kiss. I stepped back, unsure of what to do, not letting his lips touch mine.

He frowned.“Babe, what’s wrong?” His deep voice washed over me, and I instinctively leaned into him, letting his hand wrap around my waist even though a voice in my head was screaming at me not to give in to his boyish charms.

“Did you cheat on me last night?” I asked.

His hand on my waist considerably tightened. “Why would you ask that? I don’t text you for two days and now I’m a cheater?” Anger washed over his face, furrowing his brows and unsettling the smile from his face. My stomach churned.

“I heard some girls talking at school today about a party last night.” The hand on my waist tightened more, causing pain to shoot up my back.

“Yeah, there was a party last night. Nothing unusual after a big win. You know that.”

Why didn’t he invite me to the party?

“Right, I know, but they said you were all over a blonde.” Suddenly, I felt his nails biting into my skin. I tried stepping back from him, but he refused to relent. My heart began slamming painfully against my breastbone. “Ow, Julian, you’re hurting me!”

“You believe some bimbos over me, babe?” I wanted to step away from him, but his grip on me only tightened more. Alarm bells were ringing in my head. What the fuck was happening right now?

“Let go; you’re hurting me.” His hand loosened a little, but I was still trapped against his hard chest.

“Answer me, Celine,” he practically growled.

“I don’t know what to believe. You haven’t been answering me!” I shouted, panicking now.

“I can’t believe this. You are so pathetically gullible to believe those stupid bimbos over me.” The words slapped me in the face, and I flinched. Did he just…? “Whatever. I’ll see you in class tomorrow, babe. Don’t talk to me unless you believe me. I’ve dealt with enough crap from you.”

Finally, his grip loosened as he stepped away. I was left shell-shocked on the front step of my house, watching his retreating form.

He never answered my question.

He didn’t text me all night, and I checked multiple times. Then, I fell into a dark hole, resorting to snooping through his Instagram to see who he followed, and every cheerleader from the squad was there. He had liked all their half-naked pictures, and suddenly, I was the one feeling insecure.

What if he had cheated?

I wasn’t ready to sleep with him—or anyone for that fact—and he had calmed me numerous times saying he cared about me, that he could wait. Yet, his reputation spoke volumes about my naivety. What was stopping him from sleeping with the whole squad if he wanted to? The familiar ache settled in my stomach as I kept scrolling, feeling sicker with every picture he liked.

I couldn’t fall asleep because every time I closed my eyes, I saw him sleeping with a blonde, heard him talking about how pathetic I was. Amber was fast asleep next to me when I started to cry, silent tears that eventually turned into violent sobs.

Her arms suddenly wrapped around me, and she held me to her body. “I’m here, Cece. Shh , I’m here.” I couldn’t bring myself to say anything, so I just cried until I eventually fell asleep.

The next morning, it hurt to open my swollen eyes. Amber was still snoring away when I quietly slipped out of bed and made my way into the shower. I noticed a giant bruise on my waist where Julian had been holding me yesterday, and I cried again. Staring into the mirror a few minutes longer, I pondered hiding the dark circles under my puffy eyes and caved into the vanity that coursed through my veins. I couldn’t let him see the damage he caused.

Thirty minutes later, I emerged from the bathroom looking fresh, whole, and complete, even though I felt like an empty shell of the girl I had become over the last few months. Amber yawned and stood from the bed, her green eyes taking me in. “You okay?” she asked, her eyebrow raising.

“I will be.” She didn’t seem convinced but nodded anyway and stepped into the bathroom, turning the shower on before closing the door.

“You don’t need a man to be happy, Celine,” she said, poking her head around the door. “Never forget that.”

I stood outside the classroom door, wondering if it was worth it to get my heart broken publicly or if I could miss class today and postpone the heartbreak.

“Hey, babe.” His lips were suddenly on my cheek, his hand around my bruised waist. I barely resisted flinching. “Sorry about yesterday. I just got so mad—hope you can forgive me.” Then, he pulled us into the classroom, giving me no chance to answer him.

The professor decided today that he wanted to play a documentary, and Julian lazily draped his arm around my shoulders as the lights were turned off. I tensed, trepidation filling my veins.

“Please avoid conversation. There will be a quiz on this tomorrow,” the aging professor remarked as he stepped out of the room, phone in hand.

“Julian, we need to talk,” I whispered, my lips almost brushing his cold ear.

“ Shh , babe. Watch the movie.”

I clenched my jaw. “Julian, I’m serious.”

His arm dropped from my shoulders, and he turned his glare on me. It was so… angry it made me move back from him some.

“Shut up, or I’m going to embarrass you in front of the whole class, Celine. We can talk about it later.” Crossing his arms, he turned his attention back to the projector screen.

What just happened?

At the end of class, the professor walked back in and paused the documentary, reminding us of the quiz, and then, we were dismissed. Julian abruptly stood up and left, jogging to catch up with one of his other friends, not even bothering to wait for me as I packed my things into my bag. Once outside the room, I was surprised to see him leaning against the wall, eyes glued to his phone. Rage consumed me, and I couldn’t help what I said next. “Looking at another half-naked girl, Jules?”

He looked up, surprised, and tucked his phone into his jeans pocket. “No, answering a text from Coach. Why do you think I’m looking at naked girls, babe?”

I crossed my arms over my chest, hating when his eyes dropped to my breasts. “We need to talk, Julian.”

I sighed when he shook his head. “I’m happy with you. Are you happy with me?”

“Yeah, but?—”

He placed his finger over my lips. I contemplated biting it. “What could we possibly talk about if we’re both happy? Anyway, I told Jason we’d be at the party tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up at eight. Wear that tight red dress I got you for Christmas, alright, babe?” With a quick peck on my cheek, he was gone.

I decided to put the fight behind us and move on. We had been in such a good place for a few months, and I really didn’t want to ruin it, especially since he was right. For the most part, I was happy with him.

But why did I get such an icky feeling in my stomach when I remembered what happened over the weekend and Monday evening?

The next night, I was ready at eight P.M. in the red bodycon dress he bought me for Christmas, just as he’d requested. I paired the dress with gold stilettos and jewelry and went for a smoky eye and red lipstick. He always loved it when I wore red.

He arrived at the house ten minutes late, hair wet from the shower. Running up to the doorstep, he kissed my cheek with an apologetic grin. “Practice ran late; sorry, babe.” I just nodded and smiled, knowing practice ran late quite a bit.

The party was in full swing when we arrived thirty minutes later. Before we entered the front door, Julian already had a beer in his hand and his arm around my waist, his fingers digging into the bruise he left a few days ago. It took every bit of my restraint not to ask him to move his hand. I didn’t want us to fight.

An hour into the party, he was drunk. His hands were groping my butt and bare legs every chance he got. We were sitting on the couch opposite his friend, Jason, and the cheerleader he was currently dating. Julian’s hand rested on my knee, his other holding a red cup, raising it to his lips every few minutes.

Leaning in to whisper in his ear, I avoided Jason’s curious gaze. “Haven’t you had enough, baby?” His hand tightened on my leg, his nails digging into my skin. I bit my tongue to hold back a sound of pain.

“Are you my mother?” he retorted, his words slurring together as he laughed.

“I’m gonna get a drink, okay?” I stood, brushing his hand off my leg, and walked through the frat house where the party was being hosted, searching for the kitchen. Pulling out my phone from my gold clutch, I called Amber.

“What’s up?” she answered on the first ring.

I sighed. “He’s wasted already.”

“Want me to pick you up?” she asked.

I glanced back at Julian, who was eyeing one of the cheerleaders. I cringed. “Yeah, but after your call with Ryan.”

She hadn’t come tonight because Ryan was allowed to use the base’s computer for the first time since he had been there. She had been talking about their Skype call all day long, and I wouldn’t take that from her.

“Okay. He only has thirty minutes, and then I’ll be right there,” she promised.

“Enjoy, hun.”

Ending the call, I walked into the kitchen and up to the guy serving drinks. “What can I get you, beautiful?” He winked, his eyes roaming my body.

“Just a Sprite, please.” He nodded, turning away from me to pour the drink.

“What’s the possibility of getting your number?” he asked, handing me the drink, his fingers grazing mine.

“None, prick. She’s my girlfriend.” I stiffened when I felt Julian at my back, and my body tensed when his hand rested on my waist, his fingers digging into the bruise there.

“Sorry, Scott,” the guy said, holding his hands up. “Didn’t know, man.”

Wrapping his fingers around my wrist, Julian pulled me away and into a somewhat quiet corner. “Are you trying to embarrass me, Celine? Flirting with my teammates? Seems like you’re the cheater now,” he sneered, his words heavily slurred.

“It wasn’t like that,” I tried assuring him. “He flirted with me.”

He scoffed, his hand tight around my wrist. “As if I’m supposed to believe that after you dressed like a slut.” My eyes widened in outrage. I was wearing the dress he told me to fucking wear! “Do I not give you enough attention, baby? You said no sex, so I’ve been patient, but I can’t be expected to keep my hands off you when you dress like this. You’re practically begging me for it.”

Instinctively, I threw the Sprite in his face, only to immediately regret it when I saw the pure rage coating his features. His grip on my arm was too tight.

“You fucking bitch!” Suddenly, there was a snap in my wrist, and pain flared through my arm. I screeched, tears rushing down my cheeks.

“My wrist—you broke it!” I screamed, pulling away from him. Stumbling backward, I fell on my butt, catching the attention of some of the other partygoers.

Julian ran his hands through his hair, his brown eyes flashing with anger until he noticed the scene I made. “God, Celine, you clumsy girl. Are you okay?”

“My hand,” I cried, looking at my limp wrist as I cradled it to my chest.

Crouching in front of me, he sneered, “Stop making a scene, Celine.”

“It hurts, Julian. I’m not making a scene!” I shouted at him, sobbing. Helping me to my feet, he swayed as he led me to the front door.

“I’ll take you to the hospital. Now shut up already. I wasn’t holding it that tight.”

I just continued to cry, biting back as many sobs as I could so I wouldn’t anger him further.

Three hours later, there was a white cast on my hand, and I was lying in bed with Amber. “How bad is the pain?” she asked, handing me a glass of rum and Coke.

“Ten out of ten,” I said, taking one long sip, finishing the drink. “Another, please?” I slurred. We had been drinking for the last hour. She nodded and got up from the bed. Mom and Dad weren’t home since they went on a week-long trip to the newly restored beach house. I didn’t want to tell them my boyfriend broke my wrist anyway. I didn’t want to tell anyone.

Julian cried in the hospital when the doctor confirmed the break, drunken tears and apologies tumbling from his wobbling lips. “I didn’t mean to. I’m so sorry,” he repeated over and over, his head in his hands as I cried, pain radiating from my bruised and swollen wrist. “How can I fix this? What can I do for you to forgive me?” he pleaded, landing on his knees at my bedside as they put the white cast on my wrist after giving me a high dose of pain medicine.

“Stop hurting me, please,” I whispered to him, my voice cracking.

“It was an accident; I promise.” He kissed my lips, then my wet cheeks, tenderly wiping away the tears.

My buzzing phone pulled me from the memory, and I looked over to the bedside table. Picking it up, I saw another text from Julian.

Julian: I’m sorry baby. I love you; I don’t want to hurt you.

Julian: How will you ever forgive me?

Julian: Does it hurt?

Julian: Why didn’t you tell me I was being too rough?

Julian: Baby?

Closing the messages, I set my phone down and stared up at the ceiling. Ace would never have hurt me like this.

A hot tear rolled down my cheek at the thought of him. Pulling up his number on the messages app, I quickly typed out the three words that had been on my mind for weeks now.

Me: I miss you.