My Broken Heart: The Complete Collection Read online

  My Broken Heart:

  The Complete Collection

  © 2015-2016 Dani Hoots

  Content Edit by Desiree DeOrto

  Cover Design Copyright © 2015-2016 by Desiree DeOrto

  eBook & Print Layout and Design by Marcy Rachel

  ISBN for ebook: 978-1-942023-38-8

  ISBN for paperback: 978-1-942023-39-5

  My Broken Heart:

  Hanami

  © 2015 Dani Hoots

  My Broken Heart:

  Last Summer

  © 2015 Dani Hoots

  My Broken Heart:

  Professional Secret

  © 2015 Dani Hoots

  My Broken Heart:

  Fraudulent Love

  © 2015 Dani Hoots

  My Broken Heart:

  Shattered Engagement

  © 2016 Dani Hoots

  My Broken Heart:

  Once Upon a December

  © 2016 Dani Hoots

  Cover Design Copyright © 2015-2016 by Desiree DeOrto

  eBook & Print Layout and Design by Marcy Rachel

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system without the prior written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious and are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  To the one who I let break my heart,

  and all those whose hearts have been broken.

  I ran down the crowded sidewalks, bumping into strangers as I passed by. I didn’t even think to stop and apologize. They didn’t understand, I had to hurry. I had to keep running as if my life depended on it. And it did, in a way. My feet ached in the worn sandals I wore, my heart beat fast in my chest and my lungs felt tight and constricted, but I didn’t care. The outside world didn’t matter to me at that moment. Only one thing that mattered to me, and I had to get there before time ran out. Before it passed and we couldn’t go back.

  As I hurried by train out of the city center towards the more rural area, I watched as the perfect gentle blossoms of the sakura danced in the sky. I felt like I had run out of breath as I sat there waiting to arrive to the spot. If this day could have turned out normal, like any other day, I would have found myself sitting on a blanket, enjoying a homemade bento with the man I knew I loved. But this day could never end like that. I had lost that chance and if I didn’t act fast, no day to come would ever turn out that way. I would lose him forever.

  People from all over the world came to view the sakura during hanami. Friends and family would gather peacefully to enjoy the festivals and music, eating and drinking, love and happiness, hanami had it all. I had always enjoyed hanami, the one time of the year I ever felt wanted. The one time of the year I knew happiness. Now that all will vanish before my eye and only remain as a sweet memory.

  I could feel time slipping away as all the memories of the past few years came back into my mind. Loneliness and resentment filled most of my memories, but not the ones with him. Only happiness and a sense of contentment filled those. A sense of love for someone who cared for me. I wouldn’t let that go without a fight.

  The train stopped and I had finally arrived to my destination. Or, at least, somewhat closer. I still had a ways to run before time ran out. I checked the train station’s clock. A quarter until three. I only had fifteen minutes

  I left the station, trying to recall which way the chapel had been on the map. I was just north of the station, a thirty minute walk. I would have to keep running.

  Once I figured which way it was, I started to head north. My legs were sore but I kept pushing them further. I hurried away. Many who stared at me must have been wondering why a young girl had just run past so frantically. I had no time to explain, but at least it was less crowded here and I didn’t have to worry about running into others.

  I started through the gardens of a small shrine. The loose gravel shifted under my feet as I sprinted across it. I never liked running, even during PE I would try to find an excuse for skipping out on endurance days, but today I ran like my life depended on it. I could feel my heart racing in my chest, as if it pounded against my rib cage, urging me to go faster. I could hardly breathe and my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. But I kept on running. I kept on running.

  As I started to approach the shrine, I urged my legs to go a little bit faster. The chapel didn’t reside too far off once I made it past the hill the shrine stood on. As I reached the crest of the hill, the taste of fresh incense burning filled my mouth. Rain started to sprinkle down and the drops touched my skin with their icy cold fingers. My hair dampened fast and I knew I looked like a mess. To any passerby, I probably appeared insane. They didn’t know how true love felt, and having it ripped away if I didn’t act fast. It would make anyone seem crazed.

  As the rain poured down, the gravel underneath my feet became slick. Although I considered myself to be graceful, having many years of ballet under my belt, I couldn’t help but trip. It had to happen, destiny seemed to like making me suffer, as if my only purpose in life was to serve as a comical relief to the gods. Seconds felt like minutes as I slowly watched the gravel come closer and closer. I could feel tears forming in my eyes. No, this couldn’t happen, I thought. I couldn’t make a mess-up like this. I landed on my knees and elbows as I heard the clock tower of the chapel chime. Ding. One. Ding. Two. Ding. Three. I had lost. I had lost it all. I had lost the man I loved. I slammed my fists onto the dirt.

  “No.” I whispered as tears rolled down my face, becoming lost in the drops of rain as the water washed them away, as if they didn’t mean a thing. I sat up and looked at the clouds. Rain. Good luck on a wedding day, at least that’s what I had heard. Maybe, in the end, I should feel happy for him. I closed my eyes and let the drops engulf my face.

  “Mamoru.”

  We had met four years earlier, when father got promoted to the CEO of his firm. Accounting, contracting, I could never keep track nor did I really care. I just knew it related something to business. After Mother died, Father didn’t seem to have much time for me. Years before her death he used to take me to festivals and carnivals when they came to the city but then he became distant and always seemed to have to work late and go in early. The more I tried to talk to him, the more he sent me off in another direction, such as my nanny or even to his secretary. He even brought people by the house and held meetings in his office. He never allowed me in the room and I always had to go to my own room and stay quiet. That, or have to leave the house all together. I didn’t really mind, I always had a lot of homework to do and needed to practice my ballet and violin, although sometimes with the violin I got in trouble for being too loud.

  Mother passed away before I started elementary school. I never got to experience her helping me with school work, walking me to my classroom on the first day of school, waiting there for me as I got out and walk me home. Instead Tomone, the housekeeper and nanny my father hired, always picked me up and dropped me off at school, at least at first. Once I started middle school I started to take the city bus or walked myself. I didn’t like having her take me everywhere anyway. It made me feel like such a child.

  The first blossom of the year had fallen and people from around the city and around the world had come to enjoy hanami. I watched from the window in my room as couples, families, and friends gathered under the trees and enjoyed their homemade bentos. I envied them and hoped that maybe this year Father would set aside an hour or two so that we c
ould enjoy the season as we had when Mother was alive. But I knew that wish would never be granted. Nevertheless, I knew I had to try.

  The door creaked open and I heard my father’s voice down the stars. As I started down the stairs, I heard another voice. He had brought business home again, which meant I was supposed to disappear, but I was already halfway down.

  I saw the man my father had brought home and I couldn’t believe my eyes. There stood by my father a young man, probably not even in his twenties, if even out of high school. His dark eyes met mine and for a brief moment, I felt like time had stopped. This couldn’t have been one of my father’s employees, they were all older men with greying hair and wrinkles. Not to mention this man seemed perfect to me, his shaggy dark hair and a well pressed suit covering his lean body.

  And I realized I was staring.

  I quickly turned away as my father had finally noticed me standing there. “Oh, Shizue, I didn’t know you were home. I thought you would already be at ballet practice.”

  I shook my head. “No, not yet.”

  “Well then, I guess I should introduce you to Mamoru since he is one of my new interns. You will be seeing a lot of him in the next few months as he learns all the ins and outs of the business. Mamoru, this is Shizue, my daughter,” my father introduced.

  Mamoru bowed. “Pleased to meet you.”

  I returned the bow and finished coming down the stairs, keeping an eye on the new intern. He didn’t say anything, but kept up a smile which made him even more handsome. I just hoped he didn’t notice as I blushed, which I knew I was since my cheeks felt hot. They always seemed to betray me in situations like this. I hated it.

  As I came to the landing, I turned to my father. “Father, hanami starts tonight. May we go?”

  He placed his hand on my shoulder. “Sorry sweetie, I am busy tonight. Maybe tomorrow. Now go run along to Tomone. She will take you to your ballet lesson.” Father took off his coat and hung it up next to the door. Turning back to Mamoru, he led him into his office. “Now where were we?”

  Mamoru turned back to me. “Nice to have met you, Shizue,” he said and then left with my father. His eyes seemed sad as he walked away, as if he felt sorry for me. Sorry for my solitude. Like he would ever understand my misery. I didn’t want his pity. After I watched them go into the study, I ran up to my room and got ready for violin practice. Ballet was tomorrow.

  The weeks passed and father never took me to celebrate hanami. I found myself, in my room, crying as the last blossom of the sakura had fallen and now school was to start. I had wished my father would take me, would notice me for even a moment, but that wasn’t the case. He had made excuses every day as to why he couldn’t take me, and insisted that I have Tomone take me instead. I did go with her, in the end, but it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t like it used to be.

  As I had my face buried in my pillow, I wondered how many more hanami seasons it would take for him to notice me, for him to treat me like he did before Mother died. Did he ever love me? Or did he simply put up with me just to be with my mother? Had I just been an inconvenience all along?

  I had no one to talk to about how I felt. Tomone wouldn’t understand, I knew, and would have claimed that my father loved me. I didn’t have any friends at school, usually just keeping to myself during breaks. A lot of kids, I overheard, thought I just hated everyone and didn’t want to make friends. Truth was, I just didn’t know how. So I found myself alone and just hoped that one day I would find someone who cared.

  As I sat there in my room, I pondered what life would have been like if my mother had been alive, if she had not died all those years ago. Would life be better? Would it have made a difference, or would I feel the same abandonment as I did at the moment? There was no way to tell, but in my heart I knew it would have been better. I felt betrayed, if not hurt, that life couldn’t have been perfect. My eyes were still full of tears as I heard a slight knock on the door. I lifted my face from the pillow to find Mamoru standing in the open doorway. My body froze as I sat there on my bed.

  “Sorry to intrude,” he said as he awkwardly stepped into the room, his body stiff as if he knew he shouldn’t be in there but had to do this task. “I wanted to give you this.”

  I stared at him, not saying a word as he placed the beautifully wrapped present on my desk. I didn’t know what to say, and had never had a stranger suddenly come into my room before. My eyes were probably red from crying and I most likely looked like a mess. I felt like a child and wished he hadn’t seem me like this. I didn’t need more humiliation at the moment. Mamoru bowed slightly and left my room, closing the door behind him. All that was left was silence.

  I looked over to where he left the present. I knew I should have said something, but he had surprised me, leaving me speechless. I never received a gift from any of my father’s colleagues before, let alone an intern I had just met. I stared at the box for a long moment, admiring how splendid the pink sakura wrapping paper and the green bow were. It looked like it had been carefully put together and I didn’t want to ruin the wrapping, but I had to know what was inside of it. Grabbing the box, I pulled the ribbon off and ripped the wrapping to find a quaint bag of dried sakura. The aroma filled my lungs as I breathed it gently in.

  I hugged the present. No one had ever given me a gift as thoughtful before. I knew I would treasure it forever. I placed it carefully on my desk and let the smell fill the room so I could wake up to it every day and be reminded of Mamoru.

  The start of the school year came and instead of the normal school I had been going to, Father decided to enroll me into a private junior high school. It was a last minute decision and he really didn’t even ask me if it was what I wanted. Nevertheless, I found myself with a new uniform, a new school, and standing in front of a classroom with all new faces and I told my story of being transferred. Everyone stared up at me as if I wasn’t even worth their time. Suffice to say, as the months went by, many of the students bullied me for being so quiet and how I spent so much time playing my violin and practicing ballet. I ignored them, of course. I didn’t want to deal with their drama, but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. So I retreated more into my violin and ballet practice. My violin felt more like a friend than any person I knew. It knew my pain, it knew my solitude, and with every note I created, I felt as if it were talking to me and me alone. Along with learning ballet and violin, Tomone also taught me cooking and etiquette lessons so that I could become a “proper lady”, or at least that was how she put it. I didn’t argue. It made my father happy there was a woman to teach me these things, and, more importantly, I was out of his hair.

  The more I connected with my violin, the better I became. I had impressed my sensei so much that she decided to let me perform a solo song at the Autumn Recital. I felt so honored and told my father all about it. He said he would try his best to come, but I knew better than to get my hopes up. Although, I had to admit, it did feel nice that he seemed proud, if only for a brief second.

  Sensei assigned me with the song “Four Seasons” and as recital day had now arrived, I felt like a nervous wreck. A lot of people in my class were jealous that the instructor picked me out of the entire class for the solo and if I messed up I would never hear the end of it. They would ridicule me until the end of time and I could not let that happen, not when it was for something I loved. Every student on stage wore the same white shirt and black trousers. But since sensei allowed me, I wore a quaint dried sakura blossom in my hair for good luck. It gave me the confidence I needed to perform.

  My turn to play had come after the main performance. I raised my violin to my chin and my bow in position to play. Sensei nodded and I let the weight of my arm sweep into the bow and onto the strings. I felt one with the violin, letting my motions flow smoothly as I moved note to note, keeping the beat and having the violin itself control the music and my heart. I didn’t stumble, I didn’t lose rhythm. I swept my way through the song perfectly.

  As I finished, the audience
cheered and clapped at my performance. I bowed down, thanking them for their praise. The rest of the class bowed as well as my song marked the end of the recital. I looked out in the audience, searching for my father. I didn’t see him anywhere. Typical. I kept the smile that was demanded of me as I bowed once more and the curtains closed. I sighed and got my stuff ready as all the other parents came into the back to congratulate their children. Mine never came.

  As I went to look for sensei to tell her Tomone was waiting for me outside, I caught sight of a familiar face. There stood Mamoru with a bouquet of pink carnations in his hands. I stopped and stared at him, thinking this was all a dream, that it couldn’t possibly be real. Then he smiled and came over to me.

  “Your performance was beautiful,” Mamoru said as he stepped up to me. I saw the raised eyebrow sensei gave him but she didn’t say a word as she went on to the other students. Mamoru cleared his throat. “Your father sends his regrets. He got caught up at work and told me to bring you these,” he handed me the carnations. “He said pink was your favorite color.”

  “Thank you,” I breathed in the wonderful scent of the flowers and could feel my cheeks begin to turn red. “But father doesn’t know my favorite color.”

  Mamoru just laughed. “So then pink isn’t your favorite color?”