UNBREAK MY HEART

CHAPTER 3, DAY 1 – Late evening

The evening was full of surprises, not that Erik cared; he hated these boring awards banquets. He had chosen not to attend any of them, but Della had insisted that he attend this one – for reasons that had so far eluded him.

If he could have gotten away with it, he would have slipped out before dinner had ever been served and disappeared like all good recluses were supposed to do. However, Della would not have it; she had answered the invitation, ordered the tuxedo, and picked his menu items before he could utter a word of disapproval.

Infuriating woman; he should have never kept her on as his assistant. She was too smart for his own good and didn't have the good graces to not read his mind; at least it seemed like she could read his mind.

"Oh, do stop frowning Erik, they're going to think you're not pleased to be here." Della stated, waving to other attendees hoping they wouldn't notice the dour look on her companion's face.

"I'm not." He responded, bluntly; sounding – for all intents and purposes – like a disgruntled six-year-old.. "Why am I here?"

Her "duhhhh" stare drilled into him, "Even you can't be that obtuse…" she warned, "…why would I insist on you coming when I know you'd just as soon have a root canal?"

He almost shrugged his broad shoulders, which would have resulted in her preaching to him all the way home about how infantile he was being. No. Thank. You. Instead, he offered her a rather bland stare, which she obviously found equally as childish...so be it.

Her soft, refuting snicker made him lift a brow; waiting with baited breath for the explanation which was sure to come.

"You're getting an award, you nitwit; know just sit back and wait for it to happen."

He wasn't as stunned as one would think at the news; in fact, he seemed rather unmoved by it.. He scanned the room, seeing the faces of strangers he had no desire to make into friends and people who acted like they were his friends when, in fact, they were strangers to him.

They all talked about him behind his back; wrote untruths about him in their gossip columns, and speculated about his private life. On the rare occasions that he made public appearances, they would smile enthusiastically at him and practically salivate at the chance to interview him.

It crawled up his spine like a disease.

"I have tons of awards..." he stated with a good dose of sarcasm, before narrowing his eyes and growling through clenched teeth, "...now, can we go?"

He started to stand, pushing his chair back and bracing his arms on the table.

"…and it is my distinct honor to announce this year's winner of the Texas State Performing Arts Composer of the Year award, Mr. Erik Miklos."

The detached voice really meant nothing to him, but once Erik heard his name announced and the thundering applause pierced his ears, he recoiled inside. He would have to rise up out of his seat and step up to make some sort of ridiculous speech that would only spark unwanted interest in him, and anything he did or said.

How wonderful. Beam me up, Scotty. He thought, wishing transporters truly existed and he could disappear in an instant.

He shot a scathing look at Della and clinched his jaw; she had once again cornered him into being in the public eye, a talent she was adept at after twenty years.

She smiled, which did very little to ease his tumultuous thoughts, "You deserve it, Erik…" she said, clapping aloud like the rest of the audience. She pinned a narrowed gaze on him and smiled mischievously, "…now get up there."

۞۞۞

"That was the single most disastrous night of my adult life." Erik droned, cupping his forehead in his hand and massaging the aching temples with his strong, manicured fingers.

Della smirked in the darkened corner of the limo, not wanting to incite his anger any more than she already had; but she had to ride him just a little bit.

"You're such a big baby, Erik; why can't you just accept the fact that you are a tremendous composer?"

Silence stretched between them; Erik – always the consummate gentleman – had played his part well tonight, Della was aware of that. He had smiled; a plastered-on smile, but a smile nonetheless; he had charmed, even though he was not aware of it; and he looked devastatingly handsome, although he would emphatically disagree.

Dressed all in black from head to toe, he didn't blend into the night like he had hoped he would. His black tux, black shirt, and black shoes just seemed to make him that much more attractive. His dark hair caressed his features in inky waves and he had worn the black eye-patch; lending him a uncivilized, dangerous piratical look. Topping off the devastatingly alluring picture, was a golden dragon-topped black cane.

Weeks ago, when Della had given him no choice but to attend, he hadn't tried to find an escort for the banquet, but had immediately instructed her that she would be his "date" for the night. He despised the fake smiles and cold touches of the women who had to "pretend" to be happy by his side. It pained her that he assumed none of them were willingly there, pleased to be on the arm of such an affluent, brilliant man.

"After all our years together, I would think you would understand my need for privacy and seclusion, but you insist on dragging my ugly mug into the public eye just so you can have something to read in the gossip column of the newspaper tomorrow morning."

The sting of his words hit deep, but Della had a tough outer layer. He was like a brother to her, just as Gregori had been. They had formed an unbreakable alliance when they had all been thrown together; "adopted" by Master to help man the large shipping vessel that all but pirated the high seas.

She had been with Master three years before he threw Gregori and Erik into the small, cramped room they would share for the next few years. Erik had been eight, Gregori twelve, and she had been thirteen.

Even at the tender age of eight, Erik had carried himself with confidence and wisdom far beyond his years. His young eyes had seen more death and destruction than a human should ever have to see; his skinny, malnourished body had been used and abused in so many ways; twenty years later, Della wasn't sure she ever wanted to know the details of his past.

They had bonded immediately, and had been inseparable ever since. Gregori's death was hard on them both, but Erik took it hardest. He had lost so much in his young life and this had only made him more withdrawn and anti-social. Della had wanted to reach out and shelter him from the stabbing pain that she saw in his eyes.

"I understand very well Erik, and I am not going to argue with you right now; nothing I say seems to get through to you anyway." She calmly turned from him, "Some day some woman will come along and keep you straight; when she does, I will be there to say I told you so."

His loud "humph" let her know what he thought of her assessment, which only made her laugh aloud at the familiarity of the situation. He closed his eyes and allowed his dark head to lull back over the leather seat.

"I just want to be left alone." He murmured, allowing his tensed muscles to relax.

She moved from the seat across from him to sit directly beside him. She was careful not to touch him, but she leaned as close as she could.

"You're a liar, Erik Miklos; you do not want to be left alone; you just don't know any other way to be."

He stubbornly crossed his arms over his strong chest, refusing to open his eyes…there were times he truly hated her.

۞۞۞

She had never been around children before, not for any length of time, so this was an interesting journey to an unknown place. She found them delightful, actually; with their fresh faces lit up with smiles and their guileless eyes watching her in wonder.

Francois had prepared tiny little snacks for them, and they had insisted she try some. Afterwards, they had played a rousing game of Jenga; but all too soon it was bedtime, and Christine observed them do their nightly routine – brushing their teeth, washing their faces, and picking out a book to read.

"This one, Ms. Christine…this is our very favorite!!" Peyton announced with great enthusiasm.

Christine giggled at his fervor, but eagerly retrieved the book from his hand.

"Chitty, Chitty, Bang-Bang! Wow, this is one of my favorite's too…but I love the movie best."

They looked at her with odd frowns, and she knew they had never even heard that there was a movie.

"Uncle Erik insists that we read often and not watch too much T.V." Paige explained, "He thinks TV will warp our brains."

Christine was stifling her giggle, the serious look on their little faces only adding more humor to the moment. She was finding the conversation stimulating and the company charming. "Well, that could be, but Disney movies are the best!...and this one is a musical on top of being a beautiful movie."

Paige's face was glowing at the mention of music, "I love music…" she said, "…Uncle Erik does too."

"Yeah, he used to sing to us all the time, while Mommy and Daddy were here. But now, he only sings when we beg him to."

She couldn't imagine what would cause a person to give up singing, but she didn't question it.

"Well, since I'm here tonight, I'll sing for you…" She gathered them closer, gently brushing their blond, wavy hair from their faces and whispered, "Close your eyes. This song is from the movie, Chitty, Chitty, Bang-Bang."

The children leaned against her and she sang …

"A gentle breeze from Hushabye Mountain
Softly blows o'er lullaby bay.
It fills the sails of boats that are waiting--
Waiting to sail your worries away."

She tucked them both into their beds as she continued to sing.

"It isn't far to Hushabye Mountain
And your boat waits down by the key.
The winds of night so softly are sighing--
Soon they will fly your troubles to sea."

After tucking them in, she placed a kiss on each forehead, and quietly stood at the doorway and finished the song.

"So close your eyes on Hushabye Mountain.
Wave good-bye to cares of the day.
And watch your boat from Hushabye
Mountain
Sail far away from lullaby bay."***

***Song is "Hushabye Mountain" from the movie "Chitty, Chitty, Bang-Bang", lyrics by the Sherman Brothers

She felt pretty good about herself, she had little experience with kids…okay, she had NO experience with kids, but she had managed to get them to bed on time and make sure their nightly routine went fairly smoothly; she patted herself on the back, and headed back downstairs.

Francois pursed his lips and frowned, gazing interestingly at her choice of attire.

"Ms. Drummond, you may sleep in the nanny's room right down the hall on the left, it has a private bath and your things..." he said with a lifted brow, still holding back a full-fledged smile, "...have been laundered and placed in there…" he bowed again, making Christine feel like royalty, "…I bid you good night."

Now, she would wait on the man and his mistress to return from their date so she could talk to them about her car. Maybe arrangements could be made in the morning to have it picked up and taken to a garage for repairs…but until her accounts were unlocked, she had very little money and she had closed her credit card accounts because Raoul was on them.

Oh yeah, this was going to be a lot of fun.

۞۞۞

Having said all he had to say, Erik exited the vehicle quickly and made his way into the house. Della scooped up the award he had won and proceeded to leave in the car, and leisurely followed, keeping a distant pace.

Silently, he moved up the stairs toward his bedroom, his thoughts were a million miles away. Della watched from the bottom, noting how elegant and graceful he was despite the slight limp…he still managed to make her heart skip a beat some of the time; between his dark, rugged handsomeness; his strong, sculpted body, and the sheer magnitude of his talents and brilliance…he was a gorgeous man.

She smiled as he opened his bedroom door and started to enter his room, "I'll just put this in the family room then." Della said, lifting the award statue in her right hand.

He passively stared down at her with little care, "You do that; or put it in your room for all I care....I'm going to bed."

He could hear her laugh as he shut the door…pushing his foul mood even deeper. He hated being exposed to the public in any manner and it seemed that Della thrived on making him feel the fool…oh yeah, there were times he couldn't remember why he cared for her so much.

It was late, well after midnight, when Erik entered and began pacing the floor of his bedroom; wondering why energy was pulsing through him like an independent life form.

Why did she put up with him…why did any of them put up with him? I was beyond his understanding. Some day soon he was going to get what was coming to him; he just prayed no one was around to watch him fall.

Sleep was and always had been elusive in the wee hours of the night, and tonight was no exception. His body always demanded some sort of respite from the fatigue and depression that often plagued him but, try as he might, he could not manage more than a couple hours of tossing and turning at some point. Peace was something he had never achieved and sleep only made the nightmares surface.

So, needless to say, he often spent many a sleepless night in his studio writing the lyrics and score to a new song or drawing the beauty that always shimmered beneath the darkness in his life. He derived something akin to joy from spending the hours creating; and despite the lack of sleep, he relished it. He was used to it; but he was certain that, as he got older, the effects on his body would continue to mount.

Great... he thought ....another side affect of aging to look forward to...wonderful.

An exasperated sigh and a role of his eyes were the only indications that his thoughts were wandering far from the task at hand. With more disgust than he intended, he tossed the sketching pencil from his hand, turned from the easel, and rubbed his tired eyes. He only had images in his head to go on, but he had been trying for months to put them on paper; the faces of his mother and father always seemed present somewhere in his furthest and oldest memories, and he needed them to surface.

A glance at his watch forced him to try and yield one more time to the pull of sleep. He shook that thought aside for the moment, preferring to look in on the children. Their sweet, tranquil little faces often did him the most good when he was suffering the idle hours alone. As they slept, he often watched over them, lending them the attention he often denied them during their waking hours; for reasons he wasn't even sure he understood.

The silence of the house echoed the emptiness in his heart; an emptiness he knew he had forced upon himself, but it was a necessary evil for one such as he. His guarded heart and walled emotions didn't bode well with relationships, but they had never done right by him anyhow; so he protected himself by distancing himself.

Finding their room, he gently pushed the door open and padded on bare feet toward Paige's bed. Even in the secluded glow of the night-light, he could she that was the mirror image of Gregori; a fact that had his heart twisting in his chest. How much their father had loved them and they had been robbed of him at such an early age. Tears poured down his face, an outward sign of his inner turmoil that he never allowed anyone to see...he had to be strong for those around him...he had to be. The image of his slain parents and the searing grief that had ripped through him at the brutal scene and for years afterward, tried to pound away at his stubborn will; but Erik refused to give in - they had no place in his life now – he was a big boy.

Peyton, although his hair was a slightly different shade, was also a mirror image of Gregori. Erik softly caressed the boy's cheek, baring his soul to the moonlit shadows of the room; he hoped they both knew how much he loved them because he wasn't sure he would ever be able to tell them.

He sank into the small chair between their beds, and crossed his long legs. He listened to the gentle lull of their breathing, and felt his own body adjust. Before long he drifted to the floor and turned on this side. Adjusting his long legs by drawing them up in a folded position, Erik placed his hands beneath his cheek, using them as a pillow, and closed his eyes.

He was asleep in minutes.