Unbroken

him the old-fashioned way. Dinner and a movie. Weekend brunch, then strolling the bookstores and cute boutiques in the arts district. Somehow, Daniel could tell I needed the time. After everything I’d been through, I wasn’t about to just throw myself into something all over again, risk my newly-healed heart on another guy when I knew just how much it could hurt me to love someone the way I’d loved before.
    Because I couldn’t love another man like that, even if I tried. That part of me—the part that loved so recklessly, desperately, it was dead and gone. But as the months passed with Daniel, and my fears slowly melted away, I came to realize: maybe love doesn’t have to destroy you. Maybe it’s not all unbearable passion, and kisses that make you want to die. Maybe love can be that gentle breeze my mom told me about: strong, and sure, and true.
    “Time for another round.”
    I look up. One of the guys from down the bar has sidled over. “I’m Kenny,” he says, standing over me, too close, so I can smell the faint scent of sweat and beer and tobacco on his breath.
    I try not to recoil.
    “No thanks.” I answer firmly.
    “Aww, c’mon,” he grins at me, tanned and solid-looking, but with a cocky arrogance about his stare. “What’ll it be? You want one of those girly cocktails, or are you up for the hard stuff?”
    Kenny leers at me, gaze slipping suggestively over my chest, and even though my neckline is sensible—hell, practically demure—I feel naked under his stare, in all the worst ways.
    My chest tightens. I feel sick.
    “I said, no thanks.” I murmur, trying to keep my voice low. I don’t want a scene, but this guy seems determined to talk to me. “Really, I’m good. You can get back to your friend.”
    Kenny’s smile slips. “What, you won’t drink with townies?”
    “I didn’t say that.” I answer quickly. I look around, but nobody’s paying us any attention, and the bartender is still out in the back.
    “Sure, but it’s the truth.” Kenny sneers at me. “You think you’re too good for us, is that it?”
    “No.” My voice is louder now. I catch the eye of an older woman at the next table, but she just drops her eyes and glances away.
    “So have a drink.” His eyes narrow meanly, “Maybe it’ll loosen you up.”
    I gulp. I know exactly what kind of loose he wants, and that’s never going to happen.
    Even though I’m still hungry and I have food coming, I can’t stay. I scramble down from my stool and quickly pull a twenty from my purse, leaving it on the bar. “I have to go,” I tell him quickly, taking two steps towards the door.
    He blocks my path. “Where you going?” He reaches out to touch my cheek. I flinch back. “We’re just getting’ to know each other.”
    “Please…” My voice comes out a whisper, heart pounding. “I have to go.”
    “Or what?” his smile is tense. “You got someone waiting on you?” he snorts, “Poor fucker, living with a frigid bitch like you.”
    What comes next happens so fast I barely have time to register it. One minute, Kenny is leaning in towards me, the next, he’s flying through the air. He lands with a crash into the nearest table, glasses smashing to the floor. His assailant doesn’t pause a second, he goes after him, grabbing his shirt by the collar to pull him up from the ground, while the other fist smashes into his face in several quick jabs. Blood pours down Kenny’s face, as he splutters, flailing helplessly against the attack.
    The other guy just keeps punching.
    I gasp. “Stop it!” I cry, rushing forwards. I grab the other guy by the shoulders, trying to pull him away, but he’s too big: six foot of solid muscle, the sinews in his back rippling with every new blow he rains down on Kenny, now bloody and whimpering on the floor.
    “Please,” I beg, desperate, “You’ll kill him!”
    The guy finally pauses, just for a second. I grab a fist-full his T-shirt and haul him away.
    He turns, breathing heavily, violence still alight in those deep blue constellations I know by heart.
    Emerson.
    I freeze, staring at him in total shock. Of all the ways I’d imagine meeting him again, all the millions of scenarios I used to invent, none of them involved a guy beaten and bloody on the floor, and a whole bar of people staring at us.
    I hear blood rushing in my ears, and suddenly, I’m dizzy. I can’t breathe. But this isn’t a panic attack, this is something else altogether. Here he is in front of me,