Karis Vardell up top

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*** Karis' POV***

When the shoe drops, you stand on one leg. When both shoes drop, you fall. Hard. That's where I'm at. The bottom. The floor. Underneath the rubble and seeking a way to recover.

My first divorce was nothing to cry over. So, I didn't. Young lust that seemed like love, over before it had time to get started. Here one day, gone the next. No one warns you that every time you love, you lose a piece of yourself.

Gone. Non-refundable. Forever, left with someone who didn't want it to begin with.

My heart. She's broken. She's struggling. She can't see the light through the seeping blood that leaks from the fissures I inflicted.

I was careless. Reckless. Young and free, I loved the same.

Maybe one day we will heal. Today doesn't seem like a strong candidate for recovery.

I pick up my broken pieces to shove them into a new pair of jeans. I slip on a corset, hoping that maybe it will hold me together. I need the support.

I feel the weight of every life decision. I am Superwoman. I can handle this. Maybe my cape has a hole in it. I do not feel very super. Hell, I barely feel like a woman.

It wasn't abuse, I guess not anyway. Abuse requires energy, effort and attention. That's what lacked. All of the above.

I buckle my criss cross strap stilettos then bend down to add a layer of nail polish to my chipping toes. I really need a pedicure. I could afford one but, it seems frivolous.

Divorce is taxing. Expensive for the soul and the bank account. I gave it all up. The house that was ours, I left it. The car was mine so I don't feel bad that I have it. We didn't have kids. Not that I didn't try.

My body was merciless in receiving and holding onto my offering. Six pregnancies and childless. Let's just add that to the pile of reasons I am unworthy to feel female.

Maybe it was stress. Maybe my body knew something I did not. Either way, I couldn't be happier not to have a small person to be dependent upon me. I can barely take care of myself at the moment. I would be a shitty parent. Right now I would be, anyways.

I put my perfume on before applying the small amount of makeup that I usually do. I'm not big on paint. Too much paint makes you something you ain't.

I put my earrings in and grab my keys. I slip my ID and debit card into my back pocket. I'm low key, low maintenance. I want to be a little more pampered but, I don't want to pamper myself. It's a tricky conundrum.

I slip into my SUV. Yeah, I have a mom car. Let's blame that on wishful thinking. I can't even tell you how many times I thought about the car seats that would fill the large backseat. The little stickers that would say baby on board, they were packed away, donated with the multitude of gifts that couldn't be returned.

I shake the sadness, literally. My body vibrates with the force of my shutter. I can't think like this tonight. It's been a year. Let it go.

It's hard when the last words you screamed at your husband remind you of failure.

"Are you mad at me?" God how I hated receiving that text. It's like admitting you know there is a problem, but not caring enough to address it.

"I'm fine." My go to lie. Why bother telling someone anything? It always ends in an argument. Always.

Fight, make up. Rinse, wash, dry. Repeat.

Nothing is ever settled.

"You seem upset." His texts are the only real form of communication we have. I don't feel like arguing via instant message. It's exhausting.

I put my phone away because I know where this is going. Same shit. Different day.

Here it is.

Ring. Ring.

"Hey babe." I answer robotically. No need in forming new words.

"You're upset." His voice doesn't sound concerned. Because, he's not.

"I'm always upset." I can admit that much.

"Why?" Here we go again.

"Because I'm lonely. Don't worry, I will get over it. I always do. Just enjoy your friends." I give the standard answer.

"I love you." Yeah, prove it.

"Love you too." It's not a lie. I do. I did.

I sit down on my chair while plundering through games, Facebook and finally reading Wattpad. Might as well get lost in someone else's life. Mine is a lost cause.

"There you are." I look up. He doesn't have a guilty face. You have to care to feel guilty.

"Yep. Like always. Right here." I roll my eyes. Where else would I be?

"What have I done?" He walks to the kitchen, caring more about packing a cooler than mending broken bridges. Hell, they are charred at this point.

"Nothing. That's the problem. Don't worry about it." I go back to reading, my head phones are delivering music to my broken heart.

"I gave you everything." He stands before me actually thinking he is innocent.

"I don't want anything. I asked for your heart. That was obviously too much." Now I'm angry. He stirred the metaphorical pot.

"I married you." There that is. Oh, marriage, swoon. Be still my beating heart. Really. Be still. Forever.

"I asked for love. You gave me your last name. It's not the same thing." I have a little fight left in me. Let's do this.

"I don't know what you want from me." I roll my eyes some more. Of course you don't.

"It doesn't really matter. You aren't willing to give it to me."

A kiss is placed on my forehead. I used to love those. I fought for years to get that much. Now, it's a seal on our argument. End of discussion.

I will get over it. It's what I do.

He leaves. So do I.

I pack up what I can and walk away.

The steps towards the door are heavy. Guilty. How will he handle it? Again. This time is different. I place the envelope on the kitchen table. I slide my rings off and put the them on top. I pull my key ring out separating the house key from the ring. I place it beside my jewelry and papers.

He won't get them until morning. Drunk. He will come home drunk. He will slip into bed thinking I'm in the bathroom. He will fall asleep. The morning will come. He will see I'm gone.

Gone.

Seven more years. Vanished.

What's left of me? Not much.

I park my vehicle in the parking lot. How I got here, safely somehow. Where's a good deadly car wreck when you want it?

I close my eyes and breathe. I can do this. I just want to drink until I can't think. I will call Uber. I will wallow in my hangover tomorrow. It sounds like a good plan.

I look in my visor mirror to dry the tears. When did those escape? Great. I fan my eyes. Pesky little emotional narcs. Why can't they stay caged?

I open the door, letting the cold night air kiss my skin. Those are the only kisses that have touched this skin in a while.

I step onto the asphalt lightly. I'm not even trying to ruin these two hundred dollar heels. I close up my vehicle and slip my key fob in my jeans. I will come get my car tomorrow.

Straightening my corset, I stand up tall. Here goes nothing.

I walk to the end of the line to wait for my turn. It's long, but I don't care. I'm not here for anything but the bar.

"Excuse me." A stranger bumps past me, hitting my funny bone; my elbow throbs.

Asshole.

I move to the other side of the red rope, hoping to fade into the brick wall.

"Come with me." I open my eyes to find myself staring at the bouncer. Why is he pulling my arm?

"Where are we going?" I follow him through the long line of gawking patrons.

"Inside. You look like you need a drink." I smile politely. That was nice.

"Thank you." I offer him my appreciation as I walk inside.

"Come to me before you leave. I don't want you going home in the wrong hands." He winks at me before leaving to take his post back at the door.

Well, I wasn't expecting that. I smile a bit. That was fun.

I make my way to the bar, taking a place to wait in that line too. It's a few minutes. Once I get to the front, I order a shot of tequila.

"Let's make that a double. On the house." The bar tender smiles; I get concerned. Why are they being so fucking nice?

"Here, you are going to need this." He hands me a white band. I'm well over 21. What the actual fuck?

"Why? And I want a corona please." I hand him my card. He takes it while simultaneously passing me my shot and beer.

"You obviously came alone. This will keep you safe." I nod along. I don't know who he is protecting me from, but sure.

"Can I sit somewhere?" I ask. There appears to be rules I am unaware of. I'm not trying to get kicked out.

"Upstairs. Go to the blue velvet rope. They are expecting you." I grab my stuff and turn back to him.

"Who are they?" I ask.

"Just make your way upstairs please." He winks at me, his finger points to the upstairs area he is speaking of.

I walk carefully towards the area he has ordained for me. I am weary. I think I came to some weird ass club. This is the last time I just pick something off Google.

"Hi. Excuse me. The bartender sent me up here." I announce my arrival to the security guard. He looks me up and down. He nods before opening the rope. I smile when he points me to a blue chair. I take myself over and sit down. There are a few others but, I'm not here for conversation.

I glance around at my surroundings. I'm observant, if nothing else. My eyes crinkle as I look at the dance floor. There's a stage but, no band. Weird. Maybe this isn't live band night. I shrug and sip my beer. I thank the waiter as he hands me a refill shot with another beer.

I look back to the dance floor. The seating area isn't bar tops. Instead, there are different colored leather sofas lining the dance floor. All pointing towards the stage. Looks like it should be a coffee house. However, judging from the scantily clothed patrons, it's definitely a club.

I close my eyes and groan. I hate contacts, I should have just worn my glasses. The smoke in the club dries them out. I stand up to go, I need to get back to my car. I'm going to toss these things in the case and grab my glasses. Fuck looking semi-decent. I need to see.

I make my way towards the door. I see a new bouncer and figure oh well.

"I need to get out please. I will come back. I just need my glasses." I wait for the bouncer to make his decision.

"What's your name?" I stare blankly. Why does that even matter?

"Karis." I whisper. I really don't need many people knowing my name. I have gone a year without being familiar. Now is not the time to change it.

"Mr. Teagan will be out to escort you." I prop myself on the wall. Weird club. Now I need an escort? Okay.

I close my eyes and wait. These contacts could go on the pavement for all I care. I just want my glasses.

The first bouncer comes walking up to me. He smiles at me softly. I return the gesture.

"Let me take you to your car." He gives me a wink while offering his elbow. I allow it, wearily.

Nice place to offer such personal services.

"Is there a reason I have a personal body guard." I giggle out the words. Apparently the alcohol has started to kick in.

"Wouldn't want someone as beautiful as yourself out here alone." The bouncer smiles.

"How much have you had to drink?" I giggle again.

I'm far from beautiful. So far from it, I'm not even in the galaxy.

"That type of talk will have you getting spanked." The bouncer opens my car door for me; he stands guard. I swap my eye wear.

I step out in my glasses. I pull my hair back and pin it loosely with a ponytail. The waves still make it look clubish.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know anyone was offering spankings." I burst out into giggles this time. Time for another drink.

"You have a lot to learn." He rolls his eyes before smirking; he offers me his muscular arm. I wrap my fingertips around his biceps. I let him lead me back the way I came.

"Thank you. For your shervishes." I laugh. Oops. Blame it on the tequilla.

"I'm not leaving. We have all night." The bouncer takes me up to the blue room. He takes a seat across from me.

I raise my eyebrows, then lower them into a glare.

"I don't need a sitter." I ground out.

"Did not say that you did." The guy smirks.

He can take that sexy smirk back to the door. I'm not dealing with that shit.

I stand up and grab my beer.

"Where do you think you're going?" The bouncer stands, putting his hands on my hips. He turns me to face him. My head hits his muscular chest. I groan.

"To dance. You can babysit me from up here." I turn and stomp down the stairs.

I feel a body press up against me. It pushes me to the dance floor. I spin and collide with a familiar chest.

"Why?" I stomp my foot like the child I feel like being.

"That's twice." The bouncer holds his hand out in front of me showing me two fingers.

"What?" I ask. He's too cryptic for my liking.

"Two times you gave broken my rules. The third will have you in a very compromising position." He moves with me to the start of a new song. I find myself swaying against his body. It's a nice body.

"Can you at least tell me your name if you insist on stalking me?" He spins me around, pushing me off his body before pulling me back in, wrapping his arms around my waist.

"Vance Teagan, I own this club." I stop mid sway.

FONT DISCOVERY

***mature content, disclaimers will be noted,  only once in most cases. After that my readers should realize I am a graphic writer***

***POV change (because all my main characters need a chance to shine) will be marked clearly***

<<<<<<<< Scene change or page break indicating a lapse in time

Anything italicized is internal dialect to personal character.

"Italicized dialect with quotes will produce internal thought spoken out loud by mistake."

***Flashback*** is noted as such and all flashbacks will have italicized font.

Dreams will be italicized and underlined