Loneliness....

Is the smile that hides her frown.

Loneliness....

Is the laugh that disguises her cries.

Loneliness....

Is the joy that masks her pain.

Loneliness....

Are the tears that no one sees.

Loneliness....

Is not what it appears to be.

When she first got in her car after leaving Luke's she was furious. How could he dismiss me so easily? His words I'm madly in love with you, followed by, I refuse to build a life I have to share with another man haunted her. They fueled the fire raging in her belly. If he truly loved her, he would share her -- at least until she could figure out what to do. Until she could make sense of the mangled, screwed-up state her heart was currently in. Didn't he understand that she needed him? It was no longer a simple matter of want, her body craved him and her heart was torn.

The more she drove, the more she fumed. The more she fumed, the more she thought. It took almost running a red light for her heart to finally catch up to her brain. Guilt overcame her as the tears spilled onto her cheeks. Luke was right. She needed to fix this. Needed to try to make her marriage work. The fire raging in her belly now burned with a purpose. If she had to give up the one person in her life who made her feel like she mattered, then she was going to do what Luke asked. She was going to make Brad see her. Despite the fact that her legs felt like jello, she was going to march through her front door and demand he listen to her. There would be no more subtle attempts to try to get his attention.

She was so anxious to get inside she pulled into the driveway, put her car in park, and hopped out…forgoing the garage. It's funny how small, insignificant choices can turn out to be huge, life-altering ones. Her car purred like a kitten, practically undetectable if you happened to be inside the house. The garage door, on the other hand, was not. It was in desperate need of repair and the sound of it opening was clearly detectable whether you were inside or outside. Had she taken the time to open it, this day would have turned out differently. Instead, she quietly slipped into the house. Her tiny frame made no noise as she walked up the stairs. As she was nearing the top, voices echoed down the hall, slapping her in the face. The sound piercing her heart. Voices? Brad was not alone.

Her first impulse was to barge in and cause a scene like she'd seen one too many times on the silver screen. Instead, her feet froze. She didn't want to be the stereotypical jealous wife. One, because she had no right to be -- she was just as guilty as he was. And two, because she was way too curious about the conversation that was happening inside her bedroom. Eavesdropping, while torture, might give her some much-needed perspective. She put her ear to the door, held her breath, and strained to listen. Whatever feelings she had left for the man she married evaporated at his words, "This has been the best year of my life." A year? He's been cheating on me for a year? Once again, tears spilled down her cheeks. The part of her heart that still belonged to Brad hardened when a soft, female voice said, "It would have been an even better year if it were just you and me." She talked to him in that pathetic baby voice that some women still thought was sexy. Please. "When are you going to leave her, baby? You always say how much you can't stand the sight of her. How pathetic her attempts for your attention are. Were you lying when you said those things about her? What are you waiting for?"

Bile rose in Emma's stomach, her hands clenched into fists at her side. Still, she didn't move. She was waiting for his response. She cringed when he laughed. A low, soft rumble that she hadn't heard in so long. She closed her eyes. She could picture him tapping the tip of the bimbo's nose with his pointer finger. The words he spoke next crushed the now-hardened part of her heart into dust.

"I would never lie to you. She is pathetic and annoying, but it's not that simple. I love you, sweet cheeks, but I still can't work yet and you lost your job. How would we live? I need a few more months of physical therapy and time to figure out what I'm going to do for work. I'll never be able to do what I was doing. Plus, it's going to take time to save enough money to get out of here without her realizing money is missing. Then we can be together."

Pathetic? Annoying? Did I really just leave a man who thought the sun rose and set in my eyes for this? She mustered up the courage to move her feet. She placed her hand on the cold, hard doorknob and turned it, pushing the door open. "You won't have to wait nearly as long as you thought to be together," she managed to say, voice steady. She was greeted by two gasps and tangled bodies trying to wrestle apart and cover themselves. That mattress is so being burned.

"Shit! Emma! Ah, it's not what you think, baby."

"What I think is that sweet cheeks needs to get her ass out of my bed and let me talk to my husband," Emma said as she bent down and picked up the pile of rumpled clothes on the floor. She walked to the bathroom, turned on the shower, and then dumped the clothes in the tub. When they were good and soaked, she scooped them up and handed them to the now-trembling brunette standing in front of her husband. It was childish, yes, but she couldn't help herself.

"Was that necessary?" Brad asked, his voice grating Emma's very last nerve.

"Totally. Though, if you like, I could claw her eyes out instead. Would that be better, Brad? No? I didn't think so," she smirked then turned her attention to the brunette with the tiny waist, big boobs, and vacant eyes. Clearly there wasn't too much going on inside that head. "You need to take your clothes and get the hell out of my house before I do claw your eyes out."

"You can't be serious, Emma. She can't walk out of here in sopping wet clothes."

"She can put on the clothes, not put on the clothes. I really don't care. Either way, she needs to leave now," she said as she gave Ms. Big Boobs one last menacing look. Before Brad could utter another word, the woman, whose name she hoped she never knew, ran. At the sound of the front door slamming shut Emma walked over to the bedroom window. She watched as the woman, who was just screwing her husband, ran down the street buck-ass naked towards a car parked on the corner. She won't be showing her face around here ever again. She couldn't help the smile that covered her face. Amusement soon turned to guilt. She shook her head, trying to keep her tears at bay. It didn't work. Even though she derived immense pleasure from embarrassing his lover, she couldn't help but feel sorry for her. That could have easily been her, had Luke been married. She was a hypocrite and she knew it. That reality left a bitter taste in her mouth, but the words she was about to utter tasted even worse. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."

"Shit, Emma. You shouldn't be apologizing. I'm the one who cheated." She turned around to face him and caught him running his hands through his copper-red hair. She couldn't help but notice that he wasn't wearing his wedding band. She may have been a cheater, too, but she never took her wedding ring off. It was something she just couldn't bring herself to do….until now. The ring that once was weightless on her finger, now felt like lead as she slowly removed it. Never in her life had she felt this much pain and she wondered if it was easy for him to take his off every time he was with her. Even though she knew their marriage was over, it still hurt that he wasn't wearing the ring she gave him. And even though she was guilty of the same crime, it hurt like hell knowing he cheated first. He pushed her away and straight into the arms of another man. She wasn't playing the blame game, but if she were, he'd share an equal part of the guilt.

Brad's eyes grew wide as she handed him her ring. Tears were streaming down his face and they were as much a welcome sight as they were a confusing one. Wasn't he just planning how he was going to leave me for his mistress? Why is he crying?

"What are you doing? We can work this out, Emma."

"No, Brad, we can't. I can forgive the words I heard you speak to that…that woman, but I can't forget. You called me annoying and pathetic. I need a man who values me, who sees me."

"I can be that man again," he pleaded.

"No, you can't, because I've already found him," she answered cautiously, "and besides, you told her you loved her. I can't forget that either."

"Wait. What do you mean you already found him? You cheated on me?" he asked, affronted. Emma had to fight the urge to roll her eyes.

"Yes, I did. I met him two months ago at The Rusty Nail."

"Our Rusty Nail?"

"Brad, it hasn't been our place in a very long time and now I know why."

"What's his name? I swear if I ever see him I'm going to kill him!"

"Seriously, Brad? I just caught you in our bed with another woman. Not even ten minutes ago you were laughing with her about how pathetic and annoying I was. I can't believe you're pulling this macho caveman crap now. Where was this jealous man months ago when I was practically begging for his attention?"

Brad strode across the room until he was only inches away from her. He gripped her upper arms, rage filling his eyes. "Tell. Me. His. Name."

"It doesn't really matter, because he left me today. Told me that if I couldn't choose then I needed to give my marriage another try. He at least has a decent bone in his body, which is more than I can say for sweet cheeks," she said, wrestling her arms out of the grasp he had on her, "I need to know one thing..."

"Anything. I will tell you anything. Do anything if you can give me a second chance."

Two months ago she would have given anything to hear those words, but now they sounded forced. Like he was saying what he thought a man who just got caught in bed with another woman should say. She didn't believe the words came from his heart or that he meant them.

"Why did you do it, Brad? I mean, I know why I did it. You made me feel invisible. You pulled away after your accident and nothing I did or said seemed to matter anymore. Your coldness towards me pushed me into the arms of another man and I just need to know, why? What did I do?" Her tears broke the damn that she was trying so hard to hold up. Sobs racked her body. For the first time in over a year, Brad pulled her into his arms. She was surprised that it felt more like hugging a friend than it did a man she was supposed to be passionate about.

"I blamed you," he whispered, so softly she almost didn't hear it, "If you hadn't called and distracted me that day, I never would have been so careless. My career was ruined. I couldn’t support my wife. I felt like a failure and it was all your fault – at least that's how I felt at the time. When I met –"

"Don't. Please don’t say her name because I really don't want to know it."

"She made me feel whole for the first time in a long time. I was a man again, not some mooch living off his wife. I'm sorry for blaming you."

"Guess we both made a mess of this, huh?" she laughed, even though none of this was even remotely funny. One of her little quirks was laughing during uncomfortable moments. She tried to control it, but often failed. Her cheeks flushed with embarrasment.

"Yeah. Think we could fix it?" he asked, eyebrows raised. For a split second she almost considered it, but the look she saw deep in his eyes confirmed the path they must take.

He didn't love her anymore. At least not the way she needed him to. If they tried to work things out it would only be because he felt guilty for the way he treated her, not because he was still in love with her. Right then and there she realized that there was a difference. You could love someone but not be in love with them. She would always have a special place in her heart for Brad…he was her first love, after all, but she wasn't in love with him. The truth felt heavy in her stomach, like she swallowed a brick. It's never easy letting go of the past but they both needed to if they ever had a chance of being happy. She hoped that he would understand. She stepped out of his embrace and looked up into the green eyes she once thought she'd be looking into forever. They once held so much love and happiness, but now all she saw was hurt and weariness staring back at her.

"Tell me the truth. You really do love her, don't you?" she squeezed his hand, letting him know that whatever his answer was, it was okay. She understood.

"Yeah, I do. God help me, I do. I'm so sorry, Emma."

"It's okay. I love my guy, too. It's not something I planned, but it happened. For what it's worth, I'm sorry, too."

"What do we do now?"

"Sell the house. Split the profits. Part ways as friends?" She held her breath waiting for his response.

"You always were the logical one. Friends it is. You'll always be my first love. He better make you happy or he'll have to answer to me."

She laughed again.

"I don't know if happy is in the cards for me, but I hope the same for you, too. I'm going to pack a few things and spend the night at Jenna's. I'll call my attorney in the morning."

*****

"Explain to me again why you can't call him?" Jenna asked as she passed Emma a piping hot cup of Joe. She ignored the eye roll she got and took a sip from her own cup. She glared back at Emma with a come-on-I'm-waiting look that earned her yet another eye roll. Emma had been bunking with her since the day she found her husband in their bed with another woman. Her divorce was finalized three weeks ago and she had been pining away for Luke ever since. Jenna couldn't understand why she just wouldn't pick up the phone and call him.

"For the hundredth time, I just can't."

The sigh that followed her lame response was so pathetic that Jenna felt sorry for her, but she wouldn't be her best friend if she just let it go. "That's not a good enough answer. Tell me why you can't."

"Because," she answered and paused, placing her coffee cup in the sink. She braced her hands on the counter, keeping her back to her friend.

"Because why?" Jenna persisted.

"Because it wouldn't be fair to him."

"That doesn’t make any sense. Didn't he make you promise him that if Brad couldn't be the man you deserved, you'd go back to him?"

"Yes, but –"

"But what?" she questioned, her voice harsher than she intended.

"I'm embarrassed, okay? Are you happy now? I feel like a fool for walking out on him that day. I can't go crawling back with my tail between my legs. Luke deserves better than that. Better than me."

"Oh, honey. You have nothing to be embarrassed about and, trust me, there is no one better than you. So, don't be talking about my best friend like that."

Emma's back was still turned away from her friend. Her shoulders were gently bobbing up and down. Jenna put her hands on her friend's shoulders and turned her around. She grabbed a paper towel and wiped away the black tears running down her friend's beautiful face. "You know as well as I do that Luke loves you. He would take you back in a heartbeat with no judgement. Don't let your stubborn pride get in the way of your happiness. It would be incredibly stupid and my best friend just so happens to be the smartest woman I know." She pulled her into a hug. Emma held onto Jenna like she was a life jacket and she was about to drown. "I feel so lost," she whispered. "I know, sweetie, but I will help you find your way. It starts with you, me, and The Rusty Nail. Tonight is girl's night out."

Jenna could feel Emma's head shaking. "I don't think that's such a great idea. I can't."

"Oh, you can and you will. I'm not taking no for answer," Jenna fired back.

Emma acquiesced. The tone in her friend's voice told her there was no getting out of this. She wondered why her friend always insisted on bringing her back to the one place that held so many memories. First of Brad. Now of Luke. She didn't know how she was going to make herself even walk through the door. She was pretty certain that Jenna would have to push her to make that painful first step. But, maybe, just maybe, if she could get through tonight, it would be the first step in moving forward. She did have the rest of her life to get started -- a life she wanted to start with Luke. Let it go already. You made your decision, now have the courage to stick to it. Luke deserves at least that much from you. He deserves to be happy and find a woman worthy of his love.

Emma gave Jenna one last squeeze and pulled out of the hug. She straightened her back and wiped away the remnants of her tears. From this moment on there would be no more tears. She was done pining. She was going to take her life back…starting right now. "So, why don't we make a day of it? What do you say to makeovers, shopping, and lunch before our big night out?"

Jenna squealed with delight. "Now you're talking!"

*****

No matter how many changes her life managed to go through, she could always count on The Rusty Nail staying the same. It was a both a comfort to her heart and a scourge on her soul. The first step over the threshold was painful, but she expected it to be. All day she tried to convince herself this was just a girl's night out. I'm only doing this for Jenna was the mantra she repeated over and over in her mind. Her mantra failed her before she could even get to their table. Immediately she scanned the bar for signs of Luke. A mixture of anticipation and desperation clawed at her chest, making her heart practically skip a beat. She tried her best to appear cool, calm, and collected as she scanned the faces of the patrons, but she knew she was failing miserably by the look on Jenna's face -- worry and a little of bit of I-told-you-so played across her face. Before she could defend herself, Jenna grabbed her hand and headed for the dance floor.

Emma gave in and let the music take control. She didn't know how, but Jenna always seemed to know exactly what she needed, exactly when she needed it. She pushed all thoughts of Luke to the back of her mind and let her body move to the rhythm. The vibrations of feet stomping and hands clapping drowned out all her worry and angst. Her feet glided across the dance floor with ease. She was so lost in the music, she hadn't noticed that Jenna was no longer dancing next to her. She hadn't noticed that the line-dancing stopped and the "club-style" dancing began until she felt a strong, hard body come up behind her. She closed her eyes and inhaled the familiar scent that made her go weak in the knees. Strong hands gripped her hips and she could feel his body sway with hers in time to the music. She kept her eyes closed. Reveling. Hoping. Praying. She was afraid to turn around because she didn't want to be disappointed when she discovered the man behind her wasn't Luke. Practically every guy in here wore Stetson, so what were the chances it was him? But oh, God, how she wanted it to be him. It felt like him.

She sent up another silent prayer, her eyes still closed.

Her arms were raised above her head, swaying to the music. His left hand moved from her hip and trailed up her arm. He stopped when he reached her hand and just held it. Rubbing the empty space where her wedding band used to be. He leaned in real close and whispered into her ear, "You promised me." Those three little words and the familiar, deep southern drawl was all the courage she needed to open her eyes and turn around.

She turned to find that her prayer had been answered, but by the look on his face she couldn’t tell if she should be happy or scared.

"How long Emma?" Luke asked, his eyes burning with an anger she'd never seen before.

"Six weeks," she answered, unable to look him in the eyes.

She wasn't entirely sure what she expected him to do, but it definitely wasn't what he did -- which was turn around and walk away. He headed straight for the bar. She caught up with him in time to see him down a shot, then slam the glass on the bar. He did it with such force she was surprised it didn't break. He kept his back turned to her.

"Why, Emma?"

"We weren't in love with each other anymore."

"Not why did you leave your husband. I know why. I knew before you did, but I let you go so you could figure it out for yourself. I want to know why you broke your promise to me. When you left I asked you to come back to me if Brad couldn't be the man you needed…the man you deserved. You promised me you would. Did you think my words were just lip service?"

"No."

"Then, please, tell me why?"

"I was embarrassed. I made the wrong choice that day. My heart knew you were the one, but I was a coward. I didn't think you'd be able to forgive me. I thought you deserved better."

He sighed, running his calloused hands through his hair. Her breath caught in her throat, waiting for him to say something. Anything. But he remained silent. Time stood still. Very. Uncomfortably. Still. Not being able to take his silence any longer, she turned to leave. He reached out and grabbed her elbow, spinning her around so they were face to face. Only inches apart.

"Do me a favor? Stop thinking so much…it cost me six weeks of not being able to do this," he said before he leaned in and kissed her senseless. His strong hands cupped her face and then weaved their way through her hair to the back of her neck, pulling her flush against his body. Their kiss went on for an indeterminable amount of time and when he finally released her, they were both breathless.

"Luke, I'm so –"

"Shush, darlin. I know. No more talking," he interrupted her, sweeping her off her feet, "we have a lot of lost time to make up for."

She giggled as he carried her across the bar towards the exit, passing Jenna on the way. She waved and shrugged her shoulders. Jenna gave her a thumb's up. When they got to his truck, he reached into his pocket to retrieve his keys. He unlocked the passenger-side door and sat her on the seat. She grabbed his shirt and pulled him close, "Three more words?" she asked. He nodded and she continued, "I love you."

"Best. Three. Words. Ever," he answered, before stealing another kiss.

The End

Heartache....

It’s a vicious cycle that just won’t end

A broken heart that will never mend

Loneliness...

Sleepless nights alone in an empty bed

Questions of why running through your head

Bitterness...

You search for answers you’ll never find

Heartache is a pain that’s one of a kind

Agony...

Silent tears stain your pillowcase

Unleashing the truth you’d rather not face

Broken...

Your heart is torn between love and hate

Playing a game of tug o’ war with your fate

Anguish...

They say time is a gift but it feels like a curse

You’d give everything you own to go back to better days but time doesn’t work in reverse

Ava anxiously awaits annihilation as angry aliens aim ancient ammunition at Amsterdam Avenue. Ava's anxiousness accelerates. Ava, an adept adolescent, analyzes and agonizes an ambiguous asperity. Aha! After ages Ava arrives at an answer. An apology? Ardently, Ava asks an alien ambassador about absolution. Astounded aliens accept Ava's authentic apology. 

Ava affably assists abounding, amiable aliens acquire an alternate asteroid abode.

After avoiding an almost approaching annihilation, Ava's abhorrence abates. As Ava announces accord, aliens aviate an astounding aircraft afar and away.

He took one last look around the renovated warehouse before he texted her the address. Everything was riding on tonight, so everything had to be perfect. The twinkle lights he hung around the room reflected off the sheets of plastic that separated the ongoing construction area from where they would be dining. The little lights gave off an ambient glow that he thought added the perfect touch to the hundreds of arrangements of Gerber daisies he had spread around the room. The caterer did an amazing job of setting up a table for two in the center of the room. Here goes nothing, he thought to himself as he typed the address into his phone.

485 West Main St. See you soon….unless you’ve changed your mind?

I haven’t…see you soon.

His heart skipped a beat at her response. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this alive or excited about something. He pulled his keys out of his pants pocket, gave the caterer some last-minute instructions, and then headed to his car. He had exactly an hour to go home, shower, change clothes and then get back to the warehouse.

*****

It was quarter to seven as he lit the candles on the table. His hands were shaking so badly that it took him three times to get them lit and he was positive his sweaty palms weren’t helping matters. What am I? Sixteen? He laughed to himself. Each second that passed seemed like minutes, minutes like hours, but time stopped when he heard the distinct sound of a car door closing. He grabbed one of the daisies out of a nearby vase and stood partially hidden behind a cement beam. He wanted to catch a glimpse of her face before she had the chance to see him. He had laid out a trail of flowers for her to follow…leading her to him…and his chest grew tighter as he heard the telltale clicking of high heels hitting the floor. This is it, he thought, in just a few seconds she’s either going to come running straight into my arms or totally crush my heart. Each ‘click’ of her heels echoed louder as she got closer, spiking his adrenaline levels to near fatal levels.

When she finally appeared in the doorway, his breath caught in this throat. He watched her eyes as she curiously took in her surroundings. The smile on her face, even if it only lasted seconds, was enough to make him happy for the rest of his life. He took a deep breath as he walked out from behind the beam, and when she saw him, she froze. She looked at him…then at the flower he was holding…then back up at him. She cocked her head to the side and looked at him with a puzzled look.

“Wes?”

He knew that look. He could only imagine the million thoughts that were running through her head as she tried to figure out what was going on. All of a sudden her eyes grew wide with realization, and before she could say anything else he quickly closed the distance between them. He put his right hand around her waist and pulled her close to him, and then he placed his left hand at the back of her neck. He leaned in to kiss her and she breathlessly whispered, “What are you doing?”

“Keeping my promise,” he whispered back.

He watched her as she closed her eyes and without a word he knew she was waiting. He started out slowly, his lips barely brushing against hers. A soft moan escaped her and he could smell the scent of sweet mint on her breath. He was hungry for more of her, so without warning, he captured her lips with his, more forcefully this time. She parted hers ever so slightly, granting him access, and just like that they melted into each other. He couldn’t tell where he ended and she began. For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt complete. She was his home. His true North. He didn’t know how he’d ever let himself forget that. Trying to make up for lost time, he deepened their kiss once more and he felt her shiver in his arms. He was about to sweep her up off her feet, but she put her hands on his chest and pushed herself away.

“Wes, wait. Stop. All this time it was you? You’re Lucky?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t understand what’s going on. Why? Why would you do that? Oh, God, please don’t tell me this was some sick joke to get back at me. I bet you and your little blonde…what was her name…Lisa…are having a good laugh at my expense right now.”

She hunched over, pain etched all over her face, trying to catch her breath. He wasn’t sure how she was going to take the news, but he never imagined that she’d think he was playing her…or capable of that type of revenge. He put his hand under her chin and gently lifted it so she was looking at him. Each tear he saw sliding down her beautiful face was like a sword piercing his heart.

“Julie, this is not a joke. Yes, I’m Lucky, but there was never a Lisa.”

“Come on, Wes. I saw you with her.”

“That’s impossible, because she doesn’t exist.”

“Four weeks ago Sarah took me to lunch at Demetri’s and we saw you walk in with her. She was young, blonde, and hanging on your every word.”

Wes raised his hand to cover his mouth to try to stifle his laugh, but he was unsuccessful. He’d never seen Julie jealous before, and honestly, it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen. He should have been mad but he was flattered. The fact that she was jealous meant she still cared. It meant he still had a chance. Although, it was becoming clear to him that if he didn’t finish explaining soon, that chance might be lost.

“I’m so glad that you think this is funny.”

“I’m not laughing at what you think I am. Please, just sit down and give me a chance to explain. I think you owe me at least that, don’t you?”

She shook her head and followed him as he led her to the table. He pulled out her chair and she sat down. He then pulled his chair around so they were sitting knee to knee. He took her hands in his, pulled them up to his lips, and placed a kiss on the back of each hand.

“That day that you think you saw me on a date wasn’t what you think. That was an interview.”

“You were being interviewed by that woman?”

“No, I was interviewing her.”

“I don’t understand. Interviewing her for what?”

“My secretary.”

She looked at him confused, yet again. She wasn’t putting all the pieces together and he could tell she was getting more and more frustrated with this conversation.

“Julie, when I got those divorce papers, I was gutted. I’m not going to lie, at first I was furious. I couldn’t believe that after all we’d been through that you could just walk away. When I finally pulled my head of out my ass, I realized I was to blame. I was the one who checked out first. Looking back on the past three years, I realized that I did everything in my power to push you away and I know that I really didn’t give you any other choice, but to walk away. I didn’t love you the way you should have been loved. I didn’t appreciate you the way I should have. It was at that moment of realization that I made a promise to myself to win you back. I knew that if I was ever going to do that I had to become the man you could count on again, the man who could take care of you the way you deserve to be taken care of. So, I swallowed my pride and asked my dad for help. Right now we are sitting in the headquarters of Harrison Consulting, Inc.  The blonde you saw me with is now my secretary.”

“That explains the blonde, but why pretend to be someone else?”

“I needed time to put myself back together, so I could be worthy of asking for another chance. I didn’t think you’d believe me if I promised to change, because I’d made so many empty promises already. I thought you needed to see the change and I needed time to do that. I didn’t want to risk losing you to someone else and I didn’t know how much longer I could ignore your calls before you’d come to see me about signing the divorce papers. That’s when the idea came to me. “Lucky” held my place until I was able to come back to you a worthy man.”

Wes stared at the only woman he’d ever loved, waiting for her to say something. Waiting for her to forgive him. Each second of silence was utter torture. Her expression remained pensive and he was seriously regretting not just being upfront and honest with her from the beginning. He wished he just would have begged for her forgiveness instead of leading her on with a silly ruse. Panicked thoughts started running through his head. What if she wants Lucky and not me? You are Lucky, moron, just give her a chance. He knew that he had to let her know that whatever decision she made, it was okay. She needed to know that he’d love her no matter what….even if she still wanted to walk away. He let go of her hands and retrieved the envelope that was on the table. He sat back down and handed it to her.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“The divorce papers. If you still want me to sign, I will. I love you enough to let you go, if that’s what you need me to do, because the only thing I want is for you to be happy. Before you make your decision I need you to know that if you give me a second chance I promise to always put our love first. I promise to always be the man you need me to be. To tell you every day how much I love you. To kiss you every morning when I wake and every night before I go to sleep. To never, ever take you or what we have for granted again.”

He watched as she pulled the papers out of the envelope and his heart sank as she began to sob.

"You said you needed time to come back to me a "worthy" man, but I'm the one who's not worthy. I gave up on us..on you. I walked away. How can you forgive me for that?"

Her sobs broke his heart. He took her hand in his once again and intertwined their fingers. He knew that if they were going to move forward they had to forgive each other. He knew that she blamed herself for walking away, but he didn't fault her for that because he knew his actions had given her no choice. As much as he wanted to take all the blame for their current situation, he knew she wouldn't let him. Her integrity and moral compass was one of the things he loved most about her.

"Please don't cry. I want you to know that I don't blame you, but if you need to hear the words, then please know that I forgive you. You walking out was my wake-up call. I honestly don't think we'd be here right now if you hadn't. These past four weeks have given me the opportunity to fall in love with you all over again. It has been the greatest gift anyone could ever give me. You did that. So, now that you know that, can you forgive me?"

She let go of his hand and his heart beat wildly in his chest as he waited for her response. At that moment he would have given anything to be able to read her mind. He breathed a sigh of relief as he watched her tear the papers in half. His heart soared as he leapt to his feet. He swept her up and twirled her around. Her sobs soon turned to laughter as they twirled around the room. He set her down and then dropped to one knee in front of her. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box.

“I think this belongs to you,” he said as he opened the box.

“My wedding ring.”

“Yes, but with a new promise.”

She took the ring out of the box and on the inside she saw that he had her ring engraved, always and forever.

“Will you do the honors?” she asked, as she held out her left hand.

“Nothing would make me happier,” he said as he placed her ring back on her finger.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Darling, you can always tell me anything.”

“I’m so glad it was you.”

The End

Julie couldn’t help but notice that Sarah was watching her intently while she poured her morning coffee. She wondered how Sarah managed to get any in her cup, since her focus was clearly not on the coffee she was pouring. She knew this was coming and that she’d have to divulge her secret sooner or later, but she wasn’t ready to share it. She wasn’t ready to voice out loud the feelings she was starting to have for, basically, a complete stranger.

The past four weeks she had been texting non-stop with “Lucky” and she’d never felt more alive. She knew that once her secret was out, Sarah would force her to make a decision she wasn’t ready to make. She enjoyed the friendly back and forth banter she was having with her secret friend. She enjoyed the mystery of not actually knowing his real name…and she really enjoyed the fact that he made her feel like a giddy school girl again. For the first time in a very long time she liked the way she was feeling and she wasn't ready to share those feelings with the world.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket and the ridiculous grin she’d been sporting for four weeks slowly crept across her face. She knew it was his good morning text without even looking. She quickly pulled out her phone, typed a response, and then shoved it back in her jacket pocket. She braced herself for the shit storm she knew Sarah was about to rain down on her.

“Four weeks. I’ve sat by for four weeks waiting for you to tell me what’s up. Don’t get me wrong, I’m over-the-moon thrilled that something is obviously making you happier than I’ve seen you in three years, but do you think that maybe you could tell your best friend what or who that is?”

“I don’t know if I’m ready to tell you yet,” Julie said as she reached for the pot of coffee. Sarah quickly pulled it out of her reach, and with a smirk on her face said, “Well, then I don’t think I’m ready to share my coffee with you this morning.”

Julie laughed. “Okay, well, there’s always Starbucks.”

“Ha. Don’t make me laugh. Starbucks is great but you know it doesn’t even come close to my special blend.”

Julie laughed again at her friend’s attempt at blackmail. “Speaking of that, when are you going to divulge the recipe to your secret blend? Now that you’ve got me totally addicted.”

Sarah smiled deviously, “Never. Now spill and then maybe I will let you have a cup.”

Julie shrugged her shoulders in defeat and handed Sarah her coffee mug, which she only started filling up once she finally gave voice to the secret she’d been harboring. Just as she knew it would, speaking the words out loud made her realize that she’d been living in a fantasy world. The glass bubble she’d been existing in had shattered and now she had to pick up the pieces. Just as she knew she would, Sarah was all too eager to point out that she couldn’t continue this “weird relationship.”

Sarah made a point of saying that, “If he makes you this happy over a few text messages, imagine how happy he’d make you in person.” She just didn’t understand Julie’s hesitation to meet this guy. But Julie did. She was afraid. Afraid that this perfect man she’d built up in her mind wouldn’t compare to the one she was talking to in real life.

What scared her even more was that the man she’d built up in her mind looked an awful lot like Wes…the Wes she had wanted so desperately to come back to her. She feared that no matter how deeply Lucky’s words had touched her, or how much she thought she was falling for him, that when she finally saw him face to face she’d be disappointed. That was something she just wasn’t willing to do to him.

“So you’re not even going to entertain the thought of meeting him?” Sarah asked, clearly annoyed with her friend.

“No, I’m not. I can’t. Please don’t push me on this.”

“Okay, but only on one condition.”

“And what is that?”

“That you look me in the eye and swear that this has nothing to do with Wes.”

Julie knew that the only way to get Sarah off her back would be to square her shoulders, look her in the eyes…and lie. She tried to muster up the courage to do just that, but at the last minute she chickened out and just stared at the floor instead.

“I knew it! Why did you file for divorce if you’re still in love with him?”

“Because I tried everything else to get through to him and nothing worked. So I thought that maybe if I did something that he never thought I’d do, that it would wake him up. That it would give him a push in the right direction. Apparently, the only thing I did was push him straight into the arms of another woman.”

“Then why, if you’ve potentially found someone who can make you happy, why wouldn’t you go for it? Wes had his chance and he blew it…don’t blow yours. This “Lucky” guy isn’t going to want to wait around forever, you know.”

“I know. You’re right. I will think about it, but I’ve got to get to work. I really can't be late today.”

“That’s right! I almost forgot today’s the big day. I’m not going to say good luck, because you’ve got this promotion in the bag. They’d seriously be crazy not to give it to you.”

“From your lips to God’s ears. With this promotion I can finally quit my second job.”

*****

Julie gave herself one last glance in the rearview mirror as she touched up her lipstick. There was so much riding on this day that she could barely contain the butterflies that were flitting around her stomach. She had thought a lot about what Sarah had said on her drive into work, and she decided that if she got the promotion then she was going to take it as a sign that her life was moving forward, and thus so should she. If she got this promotion, she was going to take the next step with Lucky.

She grabbed her briefcase, took a steadying breath, and got out of her car. She walked to the elevator in the parking garage and pressed the call button. Once inside the elevator she pressed the button for the 10th floor and felt her heart drop into her stomach as the elevator took off.

Today was the culmination of years of hard work, loyalty, and dedication. As much as she was trying to look forward and forget about Wes, thoughts of him invaded her mind. Today wouldn’t have been possible without him. Once the kids had gotten past the stage where they needed her for everything, it was Wes who encouraged her to go back to college. It was Wes who worked overtime and picked up the slack around the house so she could fulfill her dreams.

The ding of the elevator snapped her back to the present and alerted her to the fact that she had arrived at her destination. She shook away the intruding thoughts that had her second guessing herself and almost changing her mind about Lucky. She raised her head, straightened her jacket, and headed for the office.

Her secretary greeted her with a smile and a wink as she walked by. A promotion for Julie meant a promotion of sorts for her as well. She gratefully took the cup of coffee that Helen offered her and asked her to make sure the notes she gave her yesterday were typed and ready to go for their meeting.

When she entered her office she was surprised to see that Mr. Henderson was sitting at her desk. He was her boss, mentor, and friend…and currently held the position she was up for. She was expecting the promotion to be announced at the staff meeting today, so she wasn’t sure if his being in her office was a good thing or a bad thing.

Her apprehension must have been written all over her face, because he smiled warmly and said, “Julie, relax. Have a seat.” She took the seat across from him and anxiously waited for him to continue. “I was never one for beating around the bush, Julie, I know you’re probably wondering why I’m here.”

“The thought did cross my mind. Is there something wrong?” she asked hesitantly.

“Wrong? Well, if you consider being promoted to Vice President of Marketing wrong, then, yes, something is terribly wrong,” he laughed. “Congratulations, kid. You got the promotion!” he said as he got up out of her chair and walked around the desk to give her a hug.

“Thank you,” she said stunned, returning his hug.

“I thought you’d be a little happier…you almost look surprised. You worked hard for this, kid. You earned it.”

“I guess I was just expecting to hear the news with everyone else at the staff meeting.”

“It will be announced then, too, but I was just so damn proud of you that I begged the powers that be to let me be the first to tell you. We are going to make one hell of a team. Me as President, you VP…this company is going to get its socks knocked off!”

“I promise I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t. I’m going to go get ready for the meeting. See you there. Oh, and try to act surprised.”

“You got it, boss.”

She walked him out and then closed the door and shut the blinds after he left. She did a little happy dance as she pulled out her phone to call Sarah.

"I got it!” she whispered into the phone. Sarah’s ensuing screams of joy almost deafened her. “I knew you would! I’m so proud of you. This definitely calls for a celebration. I’ll get the champagne and you get the food, deal?”

“Deal.”

She put her phone back in her pocket and left for her meeting with a smile on her face almost as big as the one Lucky’s texts usually gave her.

*****

About three glasses of champagne into their celebration, Julie told Sarah that she was going to “go for it” with Lucky. Sarah’s response was to pour glass number four and toast to her friend’s “new beginning.” With alcohol-infused courage, she pulled out her phone to text him.

How was your day?

Better now. How about you? Any good news to share, Coach?

Today was brilliant. I gained a promotion and…

….and what?

Some perspective.

Perspective? About what?

You. Me. Us.

Are you saying what I think you’re saying? Do you want this to be more than this “virtual thing” we’ve got going on?

That’s exactly what I’m saying. I’m ready to meet you. Does that offer of coffee still stand?

No, I’m afraid not.

Oh. I see. Guess, I’ll let you go then.

No! Wait! You misunderstood. That offer of coffee was a friendly invitation to get to know you better. I think we’ve gotten to know each other pretty well and I think for our first date I can do a whole lot better than coffee, don’t you?

You know, if I was with you right now I’d smack you! You just scared me to death. I thought you were ending this before we even had a chance to get started.

I’ve been patiently waiting for you to be ready, so there’s no way I’d ever let it end before it got started. And if I were with you right now, I’d take you in my arms and kiss you like you’ve never been kissed before.

Promise?

Yes, darling. That’s a promise I fully intend to keep. Dinner. Tomorrow. Seven sharp.

Where? How will I recognize you? Should we exchange pictures?

I will text you the address tomorrow. I want to see your face for the first time in person, so no pictures. I will be the man holding the Gerber daisy, wearing my heart on my sleeve…that’s how you’ll know it’s me.

How did you know that’s my favorite flower? And why a daisy? Why not a rose?

"Lucky” guess...and roses are so cliché. Plus, I didn’t want to remind you of your “blind date from hell.”

Right. Good choice. Are you sure about the picture? I mean, what if I’m an ugly troll…this could be your last chance to back out.

Not possible. I know you and you’re beautiful. I don’t need a picture to confirm it. Are you worried that I might not be what you’re expecting?

Not at all. You’re my “Lucky” and whatever package that comes in won’t change that. I know you, too.

See you tomorrow, Coach. Sweet dreams.

Sweet dreams, Lucky.

It was decided that Sarah’s penance for setting Julie up on the blind date from hell was lunch at Demetri’s. For Julie, nothing could clear away the blues quite like a big, heaping plateful of spaghetti and, of course, the best cannoli this side of the Atlantic. Demetri’s was a small, family-owned Italian Bistro and Julie’s favorite place to eat. The thing she loved most about going there, besides the authentic Italian cuisine, was that everyone who walked through the doors was made to feel like family. If you were looking for comfort, Demetri’s definitely was the place to be.

The hostess sat them at a table for two in the back of the restaurant where they had the perfect view of everyone coming and going. Nick, the owners’ grandson brought them over two menus and a basket of fresh bread.  “Ciao bello,” he said to Julie, “how’s my favorite customer today?”

“I’m good, Nick. This is my friend Sarah.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said as he kissed the back of her hand. “Julie, can I bring you your usual today?”

“Thanks, but I think I’m going to take a look at the menu.”

“Feeling adventurous today, are we?” he laughed.

“Something like that.”

He shook his head in approval and then left them to look over the menu. Julie was as predictable as they come. Since too many things in life were unpredictable, she liked to keep the things she could control in a nice little box. She liked control and order, and she very rarely strayed from her comfort zone. So, she usually always ordered the spaghetti and meatballs. She knew what she liked and always stuck with it. Why risk ordering something new and then not enjoy your meal? Wes used to always tease her about her predictability and her response would always be, “If I want to try something new I can always try a bite of yours.” A tiny smile lifted the corners of her mouth at the memory. After perusing the menu for about five minutes, she narrowed her choice down to either the Chicken Parmigiana or the Penne Alla Vodka.

Before she could make her final decision, Sarah gasped, “Oh my God! You are not going to believe who just walked in.”  Julie was just about to turn her head so she could see what Sarah was freaking out about, but Sarah grabbed her hand and whispered, “No, don’t turn around!”

But it was too late.

She turned her head slightly and saw Wes and a beautiful, young blonde being seated at a table near the front of the restaurant. She couldn’t help but notice that he was wearing one of his best suits and he looked like he’d lost the “beer weight,” as she often called it. He looked fantastic. He looked like the Wes she hadn’t seen a glimpse of in the last three years. She also couldn’t help but notice that the beautiful, young blonde seemed to be hanging on his every word. She thought that signing the divorce papers was painful, but this, this was so much worse. She had waited and waited for him to wake up and put himself back together for her, but he never did. So to sit here and watch him being the Wes she had been waiting for with another woman, well it filled her with so much pain and rage that she thought she might explode. Her hands began to shake as tears rolled down her face.

“Sarah, I can’t sit here and watch this. I need to get out of here, now.”

“They’re sitting right by the front door, if we leave now he’s going to see you. Besides, where they are sitting, I doubt they can see us. I promised you comfort food and I’m delivering on my promise.”

“Honestly, I think I just lost my appetite. You can stay if you want, but I’m leaving.”

She waved down Nick and motioned for him to lean in close. She whispered something in his ear and then the next thing Sarah knew he was leading Julie off to the kitchen. A few minutes later she got a text.

I’m so sorry to ditch you, but I just couldn’t watch that. Stay and enjoy your lunch, I’m going to take a cab home. See you later.

Thirty minutes later Sarah walked into the house to find Julie, and a heaping pile of tissues, on the couch. Sarah placed two bags of food from Demetri’s on the coffee table and sat down next to her weeping friend. “You really didn’t think I was going to sit and eat lunch by myself, did you?” she said as she pulled out a container of food and handed it to Julie.

“Thanks, Sarah. You really didn’t have to do this. I’m fine.”

“Clearly,” she said, gesturing to all the wadded up tissues.

“Ok, well, maybe I’m not, but I will be. Eventually. I just don’t understand. Why wasn’t I enough? Why couldn’t he make all those changes for me? I know I’m the one who filed for divorce and I don’t have any right to be upset, but I just didn’t think it would hurt this much to see him with someone else. He didn’t see you leave, did he? Did you talk to him?”

“No, Nick took me out the back just like he did you, but not before insisting I take this food home for you, which he didn’t charge me for either. I think the next time we’re in there we owe him a huge tip. No more talk about Wes, we have a date.”

“A date? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

She reaches into one of the bags and pulls out two DVD’s, “Kevin Hart or Will Farrell?”

“Kevin Hart.”

Apparently there wasn’t enough carbs or comedy in the world to break Julie out of her misery. They were about half way through the movie and their food and she had yet to laugh once. Her friend knew she had it bad, because who doesn’t laugh at Kevin Hart? The man is seriously hilarious. Sarah was just about to comment when Julie’s phone made the telltale sound of an incoming text. She watched her as she pulled out her phone and she couldn't help but wonder who it was that put the smile back on her friend's face.

 Did the blind date from hell get any better?

Who is this?

The founding member of the Unlucky in Love Club. I’m actually hurt you don’t remember.

Oh, yes. Of course I remember, your text saved me from that date from hell.

Happy to be of service.


 I don’t want to come off rude, but why are you texting me?

I guess it does seem a little creepy…sorry for that. I promise you I’m not some weirdo. You were just so sweet in an awkward situation, you could’ve made fun of me, but you didn’t and I just needed to know you were ok.

I would never make fun of someone else’s misfortune. I’m doing ok, how about you? Have you heard from Lisa?

No, but even if I did, I’m no longer interested.  I mean, who does that? If you’re not into me, just tell me. I really wish I knew what I did wrong. I guess women these days don’t appreciate a gentlemen.

I can’t speak for other women, but this one absolutely appreciates a gentleman. Maybe if you tell me a little bit about what happened I can shed some female perspective for you.

You’d be willing to do that?

Sure. I mean, you did give me a great excuse to get out of my date without having to hurt his feelings.

So what exactly did you say to get out of it?

I just told him that my daughter was having an emergency and I needed to leave.

So you have a kid?

Two actually, but we’re supposed to be talking about your date, remember?

Right. Well, I picked her up at her house. Brought her flowers. We went to this really nice restaurant.

How was the conversation?

It was good. I asked her about her job and the things she likes. Then she asked about my life.

And what did you tell her?

Well, I told her about my job, my kids, things I like to do…and my ex.

You talked about your ex on a first date? Please tell me you didn’t ramble on about another woman on a first date?

So I take it that’s a bad thing?

If you want another date, then yeah!  I think we found the root cause of your dating problems…never talk about your ex on the first date.

Lesson learned. You are so easy to talk to. Any chance you’d like to grab a coffee some time?

You’re easy to talk to, too, but I’m just not ready to date yet.

I understand. But would it be okay if I text you from time to time…you know, for more of your sage dating advice?

I think that’d be ok, Lucky.

Lucky, huh? All right, well ttyl, Coach! ;)

I want to run screaming from this burning building, but its flames have got me trapped. I know to stay would surely be the end of me, but I'm hypnotized by this exotic dance. The flames, they dance around me and whisper in my ear, "You're not strong enough, or good enough, or pretty enough to make it out of here."

I wonder if it's truly the flames that are talking or maybe, just maybe, they're manifestations of my fear. Realization turns to courage. A small ripple that turns into a wave. I take a step towards the door, making my intentions known. I'm leaving. You can't stop me. My life is my own.

But my courage never lasts too long, two steps is all I take. The flames grow taller, biting at my ankles. The pain reminds me of my place, why I must stay: I'm too weak to make it on my own. The crackle and pop of the flames sweet talk me, "It won't hurt if you remain in place. Don't move forward. Don't move back. Don't get too close, we'll keep you safe."

I do as I'm told and stay in place. That's what good girls do. I don't know how I got here. Standing in this place. Afraid to move forward. Nothing to look back at. Living to please, but barely living.

My thoughts are an endless stream of noise in my head. Constantly talking. Always distracting. Reason lost its place a long time ago in the muddled mess of my mind. I sink to the ground, get as small as I can. For the first time ever I block out the noise.

Silence is golden. The picture is clearer now. I look around my prison of flames. Was that fire extinguisher always there? The flames laugh and they wink. All you had to do was quiet your mind, they seem to say.

All this time I had the power to save myself? I can't believe I never saw it.

I pull the trigger and sweep from side to side. The flames have one final thing to say, Fear is the builder of prisons. The only thing that traps you is you.

She cradled her phone between her ear and her shoulder as she stepped into her favorite pair of jeans. It really didn’t do them justice to call them her favorite pair of jeans, because these weren’t just any old jeans, they were the Holy Grail of jeans. They were comfortable enough to wear almost anywhere, but yet they fit her like a glove. They could be worn with a t-shirt and Vans, or she could dress them up with a fancy top and heels…which is what she was doing tonight. The best thing about them was that they made her 42-year-old derriere look like that of a 23-year-old. To be fair, though, she didn’t really need all that much help in that department because she took impeccable care of herself, but still, these jeans were magic.

Despite the huge confidence boost that her “magic jeans” gave to her ego, she was incredibly nervous. She had no idea how she let her best friend, Sarah, talk her into going on a blind date. I mean, technically, she was still married. It didn’t really matter that six months ago she signed the divorce papers because Wes still hadn’t signed them, and she was starting to think that he never would. He still wouldn’t take any of her calls. She’s lost track of how many messages she’s left him. In a last-ditch effort to ease her guilt about this blind date, she decided to try Alyssa. Maybe she could shed some light on why her father hadn’t signed yet.

“So, have you talked to your father recently?”

“Hello to you too, Mom. Classes are going great, thanks for asking,” she replied. Sarcasm dripped off every word and cut into her like venom from a snake bite.

“Sorry, honey. I’ve got a million things on my mind tonight, but that was very rude of me. How are you doing?”

“It’s okay. I’m good. So, why do you want to know if I’ve talked to dad?”

“I was just wondering if he’s signed the papers yet.”

“Mom, I’m not getting in the middle of this. If you want to know if he’s signed, then you need to ask him yourself.”

“I’ve tried. He won’t return any of my calls.”

“Gee, I wonder why.”

“And what exactly is that supposed to mean? You may be in college now, but I’m still your mom. Show some respect please.”

“What it means, mother, is that I don’t know what you expect. You walked out on him without so much as a word and now you want to talk because he hasn’t signed away twenty-three years of marriage as quickly as you did.”

“Is that how you see it? I’ll have you know that I just didn’t wake up one day and say, ‘Oh, I think I’m going to divorce my husband today.’ It was a decision I battled with for almost a year and it practically killed me to make it.”

“No, that’s not how I see it…that’s how he sees it. Like I said, I’m not going to get in the middle. I love you. I love him. End of story. This is between the two of you, so you both just need to leave me and Brian out of it.”

“What are you talking about? I haven’t said anything to your brother.”

“You haven’t, but dad has. Look, I’ve got a study group I’m going to be late for so I’ve got to go. I’m serious, though, you and dad need to figure this out.”

She knew she was right and she wondered exactly when it was that her daughter became wiser than her. Short of actually going to see Wes, she didn’t know how to get him to respond to her calls. Since going to see him wasn’t an option she was willing to consider right now, she’d just have to continue calling him. He’d have to respond to her eventually. Right? She slipped her phone into the back pocket of her jeans as she walked into the guest bathroom to finish getting ready. She stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, almost not recognizing the woman staring back at her. If life had turned out like it was supposed to, she’d be curled up next to Wes on the couch watching their favorite movie or getting ready to go out to dinner at their favorite restaurant. Never in a million years did she think she’d be getting ready for a blind date. She picked up her brush and ran it through her thick mane of wavy auburn hair. She applied some gloss to her naturally pink, full lips and swept some blush across her high cheek bones. There, that should do it, she thought to herself. She took one last look in the mirror, took a deep breath, and walked out the bathroom door.

Sarah’s place wasn’t huge but she had her own room with an attached bathroom and she was extremely grateful that she didn’t have to worry about paying rent plus the mortgage on the house. All of her friends thought she was crazy for just walking out and leaving everything behind, but she just couldn’t stay in that house a second longer. None of them understood what it was like to live with the ghost of the man who once was your everything, while the stranger inhabiting his body just sat on the couch pushing away everything and everyone.

Deciding to sign those divorce papers was the hardest thing she’d ever done, because the thing that everyone else didn’t know was that she still loved her husband. She loved the Wes that wouldn’t take no for an answer and swept her completely off of her feet. She loved the Wes that teared up as he recited his wedding vows. The Wes that cried the first time he held both of his children. She loved the Wes that, up until a few years ago, always looked at her like she was the only woman in the room. She knew he was in there somewhere, she just ran out of ways to try to reach him. The time had come for bold moves, so she made the boldest one she could.

                                                              *****

She pulled up to the address that Sarah had typed into her phone. Brent, her date, had offered to pick her up, but she had been adamant about driving herself. There was no way in hell she was going to be trapped somewhere with a stranger. She needed a means of escape in case this date was a total train wreck, and by the looks of the place he’d picked…it just very well might be. Why was she doing this again? Oh, yes, Sarah had insisted she needed to get back out there and see what she’d been missing all these years. From the looks of it, it wasn’t much. Wes never would have taken her to a place like this. It looked like a bar where college kids hung out and played pool and when she walked through the door she realized that’s exactly what it was.

She looked around the room for a guy holding a single red rose…that was how she was supposed to recognize him. She said a little prayer that maybe she’d get stood up, but as her eyes landed on the cozy little booth in the corner she silently cursed her best friend. Although very handsome, the guy looked like he couldn’t be more than twenty-five. He had jet black hair, emerald-green eyes, and the cutest set of dimples. As handsome as he was, he definitely wasn’t her type. He looked like a kid and she suddenly missed Wes’ rugged good looks. She missed running her fingers through his soft, chocolate-brown hair. She missed getting lost in the sea of his deep blue eyes. She missed the way a five o’clock shadow made his strong jaw all the more irresistible. How on earth could Sarah think that she’d be remotely attracted to this guy? She quickly pulled out her phone to call her friend.

“Is this some kind of joke?” she whispered into her phone.

“What? He may not be marriage material, but he’s cute and looks like he’d be great in bed. You didn’t honestly think you’d find Mr. Right on your first date, did you? I just thought you could use a one night stand to get you back out into the dating world.”

“First of all, I already found Mr. Right a long time ago and I’m in no hurry to find another one. You know they say lightening doesn’t strike the same place twice. Second, I am not going to have sex with this guy, I’m probably old enough to be his mom for crying out loud!”

“Relax, he’s twenty-nine. I met him in one of my classes, he’s working on his Master’s degree. Just let loose and have some fun for once, you deserve it.”

“Trust me when I say there will be no “letting loose” of any kind. I’ll see you when I get home.”

“At least stay and have one drink. You owe me at least that.”

“Alright, one drink, but after this you are going to owe me.”

She hung up her phone and started to walk towards the booth in the corner. Brent stood as he saw her approach. She offered him her hand to shake and he did, but then he leaned in and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you. Sarah has told me a lot about you."

“Nice to meet you too, but I’m afraid Sarah wasn’t as forthcoming with me.”

“If you’re talking about the age thing, it doesn’t bother me. Besides, you’re smoking hot.”

She rolled her eyes as he gestured for her to take a seat. She should have been flattered that he thought she was “smoking hot” but she wasn’t. The only thing she was, was anxious to get home. She ordered a Jack and Coke and sat and listened to him go on and on about himself for about forty-five minutes. There really wasn’t much that she wanted to add to the conversation, but if there had been, she wouldn’t have had the opportunity. Brent was totally into Brent, and she thanked the heavens above when he finally excused himself to go to the restroom. She was seriously considering making a run for it, but there wasn’t a rude bone in her body. Manners forced her to remain seated, and as she waited her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out to reveal an incoming text from an unknown number.

Hey beautiful, I had a really great time the other night. I would love to take you out again.

     Who is this?

Real funny, Lisa.

     I hate to break it to you, but I think Lisa didn’t have as great a time as you did the            other night. She gave you the wrong number.

So, you’re telling me that you’re not Lisa and I’ve been “wrong-numbered”?

     I’m sorry, but yeah.

Ouch! I’m so embarrassed. Well, sorry to have bothered you.

     No, bother. If it makes you feel any better, I’m on the blind date from hell.

Welcome to the Unlucky in Love Club.

     LOL. Aren’t clubs supposed to be fun? I’d rather be a part of the Happily Ever After          Club. Where are the sign-ups for that?

I’d be first in line if I knew. Well, again, sorry to bother you. Hope the rest of your evening turns out better.

     Thanks. You too.

That random text couldn’t have come at a better time, because when Brent came back to the table and saw her texting, it gave her the perfect excuse to bow out of their date gracefully. Quick thinking turned a random text from a stranger into an emergency text from her daughter. She thanked him for a “lovely” evening and raced for the door without looking back. She definitely wasn’t going to do that again anytime soon, and if she did, she’d find her own date. There would be no more blind dates in her future.

(This is Chapter One of my unpublished contemporary romance novel. The sequel to this novel is 60% complete.)

                                                           Isabelle

Brave. Courageous. Strong. These words make me ill. People mean well, using them to describe me, but I hate it. I pretend I’m all those things, but I’m not. They say I’m brave, but they can’t feel me shake when someone mentions Sam’s name. They say I’m courageous, but they don’t see me hiding under the covers at night. They say I’m strong, but they don’t hear me cry myself to sleep. In what seems like nanoseconds, my life has gone from glorious Technicolor to gray. I’m drowning in despair and loneliness and there are moments, brief ones, that I just want to slip under their waves and let them consume me.

     My flight leaves in five hours and despite the fact that sleep these days is all but unheard of, I only started packing an hour ago. Sadness weighs heavy on my heart as I reach for the dress he bought me for this trip. The memory of the night he gave it to me paralyzes me and I freeze. Thoughts of Sam’s memorial service keep playing over and over in my mind like a bad movie I can’t turn off. If I didn’t know better I’d think that the Grim Reaper had targets on the backs of everyone I love. I thought losing my parents so young had hardened my heart to loss, but I was wrong. Sam found the key to my heart and once it was opened up to love again, that gave pain easy access. I thought I had buried that pain years ago, but Sam’s death has brought all those painful memories flooding back to the surface. I want to run and hide behind the wall that used to protect my heart, but it’s gone. His love blew it apart, leaving nothing but rubble in its wake, and now the shattered pieces of my broken heart are scattered amongst the rubble. I feel raw and exposed in a way that I never have before and now there’s nowhere to hide.

     Just as a tidal wave of darkness and anxiety are about to engulf me, my phone rings providing a welcome distraction from my misery. Without even looking, I know who it is. My best friend, Lexi. She always has a knack for knowing when I need her. We share a bond that would normally take most people a lifetime of knowing each other to achieve; which is strange, because we only met two years ago when she came to work for the photography studio I was interning at. I pick up the phone and before I can even attempt to speak, Lexi jumps right in.

     "Are you all packed?"

     My emotions and sheer exhaustion render me speechless. I open my mouth to respond but the only thing that comes out are sobs. I honestly don’t know how I even have any energy anymore, it seems like all I’ve done for the past four weeks is cry. It’s almost as if all of the bottled-up, unshed tears of my parents’ death have combined with my current grief. I’ve spent years denying myself the release of my tears, and the dam has finally broken. And. I. Can’t. Get. It. To. Stop. A part of me misses the strong woman who only six months ago would have been able to choke back these tears.

     "It’s going to be okay, Izzy."

How can you be so sure? I don't know how I'm going to get through this week."


 It's amazing that she understands me through all the garbled sobs.

     "You’ll get through this next week just like you got through the last four weeks, by taking it one day at a time. You need to take a deep breath and relax."

     Her words are calming and I am grateful she called when she did because I was starting to have second thoughts about taking this trip.

     "Thanks, Lexi. How do you always know exactly what I need to hear?"

     "Because I’m wise beyond my years, of course," she laughs, putting me at ease yet again. "Do you think you’ll be ready in about an hour?"

     "Are you sure you have time? I am capable of driving a car, you know. Maybe it would be best if I drove myself, then I wouldn’t have to bother you to come pick me up in a week."

     "Oh no you don’t. You’re not getting rid of me that easy. I don’t want you sitting all alone in the airport. I’m taking you. End of story."

She’s using her full-on New York accent, so I know she means business.

     "Finish getting ready and I’ll see you in an hour. We can grab a bite to eat on the way to the airport."

     "Well, if you insist, I’ll be ready. I only have a few more things I need to pack."

     After we hang up I take a deep breath and pick up where my wayward thoughts had sidetracked me, getting the dress Sam bought me for this trip. I open the closet door and reach for the black garment bag. I honestly don’t even know why I’m bringing it, but Lexi insisted on it. I tried explaining to her that I didn’t even think I was going to wear it. As far as I was concerned, this trip was a mere formality. I am going to do what I have to do to get through it and I don’t plan on "dressing up" or "having fun." I take the bag out of the closet and lay it on the bed. I slowly unzip the bag…it’s been three months since I last looked at it. It is a silk, strapless, floor-length gown with hand-sewn Austrian crystals on the bodice; in my favorite color, lavender. I pull it out and run my fingers over the crystals and the memory of the day I got it comes rushing back. The floodgates open and here I stand, yet again, crying like a fool.

     I wipe the tears away and carefully place my dress in the suitcase I had gotten at my bridal shower only six months ago. This wasn’t quite the trip I had in mind when I imagined the first time I’d be using it. I zip the suitcase up and place it on the floor beside my bed. I turn to my nightstand and pick up the last thing I need to pack, and I cry uncontrollably as I gently place it in my carry-on bag.

     Next, I mentally check off my to-do list. Shower. Check. Pack. Check. Tickets and I.D. Check. Get dressed. Che…I look down…still in your robe genius! I grab my favorite pair of Juicy Couture sweats and my favorite t-shirt – Sam’s old college t-shirt. Yeah, this will do. I am certainly not out to impress anyone. I’d prefer to be invisible, but I’ll settle for plain and ordinary. I put my hair up in a ponytail, throw on some mascara, and head downstairs to wait for Lexi.

     As I make my way down the stairs, my phone rings again. I look at the caller ID and see that it’s my Aunt Pheobe. I’m so not up for this argument…again. I brace myself as I press the button to answer the phone.

     "Hey, Izzy. I wanted to say goodbye before you left, sweetie."

     So far so good.

     "Thanks for calling," I reply, "I’m all packed. Lexi should be here shortly."

     "I’m glad she’s taking you. Listen, sweetie, I don’t want to take up too much of your time, but I needed to hear your voice before you left to make sure you were okay. I really wish you’d reconsider. I still don’t think this trip is a good idea. Why would you want to put yourself through this added stress? I know he’d understand if you couldn’t do it."


      And there it is.

     "I appreciate your concern Aunt Pheobe but this is something I have to do, so please stop trying to convince me not to go."

     "Oh, sweetie, please don’t be mad at me. You know I only want what’s best for you. It’s all I’ve ever wanted since your parents died," she replies.

     And now she’s crying. Great. I’m such an ass.

     "I know and I’m not mad. Please don’t cry. I just stopped, and if I start again I may never stop. You’ve always been there for me and I know you have my best interest at heart, but please try and understand why I need to do this."

     "I’m trying, sweetie. Really, I am. I had to make sure that this is truly what you want, and I can hear it in your voice that it is. I’ve got to be getting to work, so give me a call when you get back, okay?"

     "All right, I will. Goodbye, Aunt Pheobe. I love you."

     "I love you too, Izzy."

     I hang up the phone and once again I am alone with my thoughts, which only seem to haunt me. Lately I find myself torn between needing to be alone and my fear of being alone. Sometimes I don’t know what’s worse, the deafening silence of my solitude, or the awkward silence that is inevitable whenever I am with other people. I glance at my phone and see that I still have twenty minutes before Lexi is supposed to pick me up. I try to think of something to do to keep my mind from wandering but it’s no use. As hard as I try to put thoughts of Sam out of my mind, I can’t. There’s only so much I can do to distract myself and that distraction is usually short lived. The moment I find myself without something to keep me busy is the moment the memories creep back in. They have a life of their own and they always leave me gasping for air. This is what happens when you let people in, it makes you weak. Dependent. Why did I let him in? How could I have been so careless as to let him break down the wall I had built to protect myself? Now that I think about it, the first crack in that wall was made by Lexi. She stormed into my life like a bull in a china shop and everything just went to pieces from there. She’s the first real friend I’ve ever had. It was because of her that I met Sam.

     Sam was a force to be reckoned with, both in and out of the courtroom. He swept in and stole my heart. I didn’t even think that was possible. In fact, I would normally laugh at the girls who’d swoon and go gaga over a guy, claiming exactly the same thing – that their hearts had been stolen. But that’s what he did, from the moment I met him. I didn’t want him to. I fought it every step of the way, but he wore me down with his kindness and patience. He filled my world with sunlight and warmth and now he’s left me in the dark, frozen from the inside out. My tears, on the brink of surfacing again, are interrupted by the doorbell. It’s Lexi. As usual, her timing is perfect and I’m so relieved.

     "Hey, you’re early."

     "You sounded a little upset when we spoke, so I thought that you might like the company," she says.

     "Well, as usual, you’re right. I’m so glad you’re here."

     I give her a hug and she holds my embrace a moment longer and then gives me an extra squeeze. It’s her signature hug lately; her way of saying "I know things suck right now, but it will be okay" without actually having to say it.

     "I don’t know about you, but I’m famished," she says.

     My stomach turns at the mere mention of food.

     "To be honest, I’m not really that hungry, but I could go for some coffee."

     "Well, then coffee it is. Where are your bags? I’ll go put them in the car for you."

     "I put them by the door. I’ll meet you in the car. I have to turn the alarm on."

     As she grabs my bags and brings them to the car, I take one last look at the home that has become my prison for the last four weeks. With trembling fingers, I set the alarm and walk out the door. Here goes nothing.

                                                             *****

     On the way to the airport we stop at my favorite bakery. I had only planned on having coffee – they have the best coffee – but the enticing aroma of bread baking makes my mouth water. The croissants, with all their buttery, flaky goodness are calling out to me. I close my eyes and savor each bite as the buttery layers melt in my mouth. They are as scrumptious as they look and much to my surprise I have two and get one to go, which is the most I’ve eaten in a couple of days. My newfound appetite must be due to the "Lexi Effect." I feel so much better just having her around. With her, I don’t have to put on appearances, or pretend to be happy if I’m not. I don’t have to worry about awkward silences, because there aren’t any. She doesn’t force conversation on me, she is just there for me and that’s exactly what I need. It is such a relief to be able to be around someone and not worry that I am making them feel uncomfortable.

     After breakfast we get on the Garden State Parkway and head for the Atlantic City Airport. We go over my itinerary and Lexi makes me promise to text her at least once a day. Traffic is pretty light and we pass the time with some conversation and music. The closer we get to the airport, the more nervous I get. So nervous, in fact, that I don’t realize I’m gripping the seat for dear life. Lexi notices and smirks at me.

     "What did that seat ever do to you?"

     "I’m sorry. I didn’t even realize I was doing that," I apologize, "I guess I’m a bit more nervous than I let on. See, I told you I should have driven myself, then I wouldn’t be taking my nervous energy out on your baby."

     "You know I was only joking. You can tear that seat to shreds if it will make you feel better."

     We are now minutes away and my heart takes a nosedive into my stomach as I see the signs for the airport. Lexi grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze as she turns into short term parking. She parks as close to the entrance as she can and we get out. With a deep sigh, and hands that won’t stop shaking, I get my luggage out of the trunk. As we make our way towards the entrance I keep willing the doors to be further away, but it doesn’t work. The week I have been dreading is finally here and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. Well, that’s not true. I could decide not to go, but I owe it to Sam to be strong. Instead of focusing on my nerves, I force myself to remember how much I love traveling. The anticipation of going somewhere you’ve never been and seeing things you’ve never seen before is a feeling unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. This is the first trip I've taken where I didn't bring my camera with me and it makes me feel a little lost. There was something about photographically documenting a trip to spread your husband's remains that just didn't sit right with me. Lexi thought it would be a good distraction but she lost the battle on that argument. I just couldn't bring myself to do it.

     The airport is full of people coming and going. If you pay close enough attention you can tell by their expressions which travelers are arriving and which ones are departing. Those arriving from their destinations often look relaxed and somewhat melancholy. Those departing often have expressions of joy, excitement, and anticipation. I wish I could be happy about this trip, but I can’t. I am relieved to be getting out of the house, though.

After I check my bags, we take a seat in the waiting area outside the gate entrance because Lexi wants to wait with me until it is almost time for me to board the plane.

     "Aunt Pheobe tried to talk me out of going again," I say, out of the blue.

     "Well, I can’t say I blame her. You know I support you completely, but I must say I’m a little confused myself," Lexi admits.

     I clutch my bag to my chest as I realize that I’ve been carrying around the burden of his secret for far too long. I need to tell her what happened.

     "Do you remember the day I asked you to drive me to the bank?" I ask.

     "Yes," Lexi replies, "You emptied out Sam’s safe-deposit box that day, right?"

     "Yes. Among the documents I found a letter that he left for me."

     She reaches over and grabs my hand.

     "He had written the letter three months earlier...actually, the day he surprised me with this trip."

     With trembling hands, I reach into my purse and pull out an envelope that looks much older than it actually is.

     "I’d like to read it to –"

     Lexi puts up her hand to stop me.

     "You don’t have to do this. That is personal, between you and Sam."

     "You’re my best friend, Lexi. I know he would have wanted me to share this with you. It has been such a burden carrying this around with me. I need to do this."

     She shakes her head in agreement and I begin to read her Sam’s letter.

My Dearest Izzy,

     First, my love, I must beg your forgiveness because if you are reading this, I am no longer with you. It also means that I did not make it to our honeymoon, and for that, I am deeply sorry. Not taking you on a honeymoon right after we married will always be my biggest regret.

     About a month ago I went to see my doctor for the headaches I had been having. Do you remember? You kept nagging me to go get checked out, but I insisted that I was fine. Well, I finally decided to go to the doctor, and I didn’t tell you because I thought it wouldn’t amount to anything. As it turns out, things were not fine. They found a tumor, Izzy. Glioblastoma, to be exact.

     Right now you probably feel like someone punched you in the stomach, but I hope that someday you will find it in your heart to forgive me. My doctor says that while there are treatment options to help prolong my life, there is nothing that can be done to save my life; and so did the two other doctors I sought out for a second, and a third, opinion. Most of the recent "work" trips were actually for those consultations.

     My plan is to tell you after our honeymoon and then together we can choose the best treatment plan. I’m not going to be able to give you the forever I promised and I don’t want our remaining time together to be filled with hospitals, IV’s, and noisy machines. I want one last good memory together before my illness takes it all away. The doctors tell me that there is a risk in delaying treatment, but it is a risk I am willing to take. I know that’s selfish, but I am hoping to make it to our cruise. I want you to have the magical honeymoon that you deserve without my illness looming over us. I’m writing you this letter in case I don’t make it, because you deserve an explanation and as I sit here and write these words, my heart bleeds.

     Tonight I surprised you with our cruise and gave you your dress. You’ve never looked more beautiful. As I lay here next to you, watching you sleep, I hope you know how much I love you and how happy you’ve made me. I also want you to know that I’m drinking in every moment I get to spend with you and cherishing it.

     I do have one last request. I know this might sound crazy, but I still want you to go on our trip. I would like you to spread my ashes somewhere beautiful and when you do, remember that what we had, although brief, was the most beautiful thing in my life. I have made it clear to my attorney that these are my final wishes, hopefully preventing my parents from giving you any grief. I know they didn’t approve of our marriage, but I hope you know that I don’t regret choosing you over them. It was the best decision I ever made. The second best decision was leaving everything I have to you, including my shares in my father’s company. It gives me peace knowing that even though I won’t be physically here for you, I know you will be taken care of financially.

     If this is asking too much of you I will understand, but I hope that you can use it as a time to heal and let me go. You are so young and beautiful. I do not want you to stop living. Life is too short, so please don’t waste a second of it. I want you to move on and find love again.

Do it for me, Izzy.

I will love you always,

Sam

     I somehow manage to read the entire letter without crying, but upon finishing I break down. "How can someone who claims to love you, lie to you about something so important? I don’t understand. It kills me to think that I really didn’t know him at all. I guess that’s what I get for marrying a man after only knowing him for a few months. I know that sounds awful, I mean, I know he loved me, but I’m still so angry that he didn’t tell me."

     "I’m so sorry, Izzy," Lexi replies.

     I look up at her and see that she is crying, too. My tough New York friend is at a loss for words. I think this is a first. Unaware of how long we have been sitting here, I am surprised when I hear the overhead announcement saying that they are starting to board my flight. I jump up and wipe the tears from my eyes.

     "That’s me. I’ve got you all upset and now I have to leave."

     "Don’t be silly. Get on that plane. We’ll talk more when you get back."

     We hug goodbye and she gives me an extra "squeeze" like she always does.

                                                              *****

     After I hand my boarding pass to the flight attendant, I walk down the ramp to board the plane. I hope that I will be lucky enough to be sitting alone. I am not up for polite conversation with a total stranger. I don’t want to have to answer the typical questions that traveling people often ask about jobs, marriage, and things of that nature. I show my ticket to the flight attendant and she shows me to my seat. First class. Sam was always the go big or go home type of guy. I breathe a sigh of relief when I see that both seats in my row are empty. So far so good. I put my carry-on bag in the overhead compartment and take my seat.

     The plane is quickly filling up and just as soon as I think I am in the clear, a man places his carry-on in the overhead compartment above my head and sits down next to me.

     "Oh, great," I think to myself….only it wasn’t to myself. Shit! Did I say that out loud? When I realize what I have done, I’m mortified. Oh, no! I did! "I’m so sorry," I apologize, "That wasn’t supposed to be out loud. It’s just that –"

     "It’s okay," he interrupts me, in the most charming Irish accent I have ever heard, "I won’t hold it against you. I was actually hoping to sit alone as well."

     I’m too embarrassed to even look at him, so I keep my head down.

     "I’m sure you’re a very nice man, the thing is….I’m not up for conversation right now. I hope I didn’t offend you," I say.

     "No, I’m not offended. I completely understand. I have an idea. Why don’t we both take a vow of silence for the rest of the flight? No hard feelings. What do you say?"

     "I say that sounds great. Thank you."

     A smile creeps across my face. I think it may be the first real smile I’ve had in a long time. I pull out my ear buds, turn on my music, and close my eyes to try and get some sleep. When I can manage to drift off into peaceful slumber, it is always my favorite place to be because in my dreams Sam comes to me. He is alive and beautiful and not sick. In my dreams we live a long and happy life together in our dream house with two kids and our beloved dog. Much to my surprise, before I get lost in my own thoughts I can’t help but wonder why the man sitting next to me also wants to sit alone and why he was so eager to initiate the "vow of silence."

#romance