The Deception of Destiny: A Novel

by Jennifer Walters

  CONTENTS

  Copyright

  Dedication

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Copyright © 2017 Jennifer Walters

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or

  Transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other

  Electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher,

  Except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews and certain other non-commercial

  Use permitted by copyright law.

  SPECIAL DEDICATION

  In Memory of Sandra Walters

  8/26/47- 8/25/15

  The most amazing wife, mother, sister, grandmother and friend.

  Taken from us too soon by Glioblastoma Maliform Brain Cancer at age 67.

  You will forever live on in our hearts and in our minds.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  With special thanks to my husband, Owen Walters. Without you, I wouldn’t be who I am today. You have been there with me through the hardest days of my life and have always pushed me to be the best me I can be. Thank you so much for everything you do to support me always. You are not only my best friend, but my partner.

  With thanks to my sister, Jackie Prescott. You have been my mentor and truly the most amazing sister I could ever ask for. Thank you for always being by my side and believing in me when I don’t always believe in myself. Thanks to my brother, Justin Prescott, for supporting me.

  Thank you to my girls, Sidney and Alexis. I am so proud of both of you. Never give up on your dreams. You are my whole world and I love you both very much.

  Thanks to my accountability buddy, Reiley Wieland, you helped to keep me on track and were always there for me when I needed you. I am so honored to have met you and I know our friendship will last forever.

  Big thanks to The Deception of Destiny launch team! You helped me shape this book into what it has become. Thank you so much for all your hard work. I couldn’t have done it without you!

  And last, but not least, the SPS community. You are truly like family, the immense support is unbelievable and invaluable. Thanks to Chandler Bolt and Sean Sumner for leading such an amazing team.

  Brought up in a small town in northern Minnesota, Jennifer Walters never gave up on her childhood dream to become an author. She loves to run marathons with her husband and they plan to run a half-marathon in every state in the U.S. A graduate of Bemidji State University, she resides in Hibbing, Minnesota with her husband, Owen and two daughters.

  @JenniferWaltersAuthor on Facebook

  @Jpwalters7 on Twitter

  Jenniferwaltersauthor.blogspot.com

  Cover: oliviaprodesign

  Author photograph: April Patterson

  CHAPTER ONE

  JANUARY 2017

  I opened my eyes and the white walls stared back at me, glowing from the light shining in from the hallway. So much noise, phones ringing, people talking. It was hard to focus on the picture on the wall without my glasses on. Where are my glasses? I wanted them, needed them to see.

  I carefully moved my head to the left and saw the remote, just inches from my hand. I picked up my fingers with the weight of them resting on my palm and wrist. I closed my eyes and focused on lifting them together. I felt them shake, opened my eyes to acknowledge my progress. My pointer finger moved slowly as my hand jerked to the left. One button, just one button. I felt the remote cold beneath my hand. Pressure. I just needed to find it. I moved my hand around, unable to see it. I felt a circular bubble beneath my middle finger. Pushing hard three times, not knowing whether or not it would send for help.

  I heard a noise coming from behind me and remembered he was there. I smelled his breath in my hair, a shiver ran down my spine. He inched his way closer, planting a kiss on my forehead, startling me.

  “What do you need honey?” He asked.

  My peripheral vision was disappointing me, along with the blurriness in my right eye. I relaxed as he stared into my eyes and ran his fingers through my long brown curls. His touch was light, letting go before his hands got stuck in the snarls of my matted, unwashed hair. The consequence of being in a bed for two days, maybe three, I couldn’t be sure.

  I opened my mouth to talk, but my tongue felt thick and dry, I couldn’t get any words out.

  “Shushh,” he whispered, smiling at me and ran the back of his hand over my left cheek. I felt goosebumps run down my arm, struggling to keep my heavy eyes open. I tried to move my right arm, grab for the Rosary next to the small stuffed bear that propped up my arm. The more I fought to take control, the more tired I became. It took all the strength I had just to keep my eyes open.

  He walked down to the end of the bed and uncovered my feet. He grabbed them both and began rubbing them at the same time, just the way he knew I liked it. I closed my eyes, feeling a little dizzy and shaky, but I tried to focus on feeling his touch on my right foot.

  His massage was gentle and slow, but I was nauseous. I couldn’t enjoy it, at all, no matter how hard I tried. Tears restricted my view and left me feeling sorry for myself. This was the only way I could show any emotion. I focused on the path my tear took as it made its way down my cheek and stopped right beneath my chin.

  His reaction of complete cessation of movement startled me as he promptly made his way to my side and lightly wiped away any evidence of my tears. I knew he was struggling with my absence of emotions and this tear brought him hope. I could tell he was scared and wasn’t really sure what to do.

  He reached across the table behind him and grabbed my glasses. The queen of diamonds playing card was taped to the lens and made me giggle to myself that he always figured out a way to solve a problem, no matter how strange. The card helped my eye to focus since I lost most of the vision in my right eye and when uncovered, made me dizzy.

  I was glad I told them this before I could no longer talk. I wasn’t sure when I was hallucinating or when he was really there. Sometimes my dreams felt so real and sometimes what I thought was real seemed like a dream. I was pretty sure it was the pain killers they had me on.

  I felt as though I had a stroke, but the doctors assured us it was just a side effect of the brain tumor.

  “How are you feeling today, honey? Squeeze my hand once for good, twice for not so good.” His beautiful eyes stared at me as I focused on my hand. I squeezed his hand once with everything I had and it left me exhausted. He smiled.

  “Have I told you how beautiful you look today?” He rubbed my hand softly as he sat on the side of my bed. I could only imagine this hot mess that lay before him, although I believed he meant what he said by the love in his eyes.

  I tried to smile and wondered if he could tell. Every time I blinked, I had to force my eyes to open again. I wanted more than anything to stay in this moment with him. Another tear was rel
eased from my eye and I felt it trapped beneath the rim of my glasses. It tickled and I was frozen, unable to wipe the irritability away.

  He wiped away the trace of my unhappiness with a single swipe of his thumb, as if he had heard my silent vociferation. He grabbed something else off the table. The sponge came toward me and I opened my mouth in desperation. I tried to guide the water down my throat without the assistance of my tongue. The damp sponge felt so good as the water ran down my throat, leaving me coughing. My brain no longer in control of my body. He placed the sponge back into the water and wet my mouth a few more times until I’d had enough and pursed my lips in response. How could it be so much work just to swallow?

  I saw a shadow entering the room, realizing it was a nurse finding her way to the computer, hanging on the wall. The frigid open room sent a chill throughout my body, nipping at my soul.

  “Good morning, Destiny.” She greeted me with a smile, too big to be real.

  I coughed, choking on the giant muscle I once used to converse. I tried and failed to move it, wanting to return the small greeting, but I no longer had that luxury of communication.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked, like I could really answer her.

  She seemed to be ignoring my husband and I wondered if he was annoying her with his jokes. Sometimes he thought he was a lot funnier than he really was. He didn’t understand when he was pushing the jokes just a little too far.

  I felt my body temperature suddenly rising and my face getting warm. What did I do to deserve to be trapped in my own body? Would I ever be able to talk again? Why me? What did I do to deserve this? I wanted to scream. I desired the feel of my husband’s hands on my body again, the sexual desire we once had. I silently scolded myself as I once again felt my eyes filling up with tears, leaving me feeling vulnerable and downhearted.

  The beautiful blonde nurse reminded me of a nurse I once knew, long ago. She gently lifted the arm I could not feel and began taking my vitals.

  “It’s a great day to be inside, Destiny. It’s close to fifty below out there. Brr.” She smiled at me, knowing I wouldn’t, couldn’t respond. I saw my husband folding up the sheet in the chair that had become his abode. He put the flannel shirt I bought him last Christmas over his t-shirt, moving to replace where the nurse had just been standing. He leaned over the hospital bed, kissing my dry, cracked lips. Although I couldn’t kiss him back, I relaxed my lips and closed my eyes, feeling his soft lips against mine. I didn’t want him to pull away, didn’t want him to stop. I felt the electric current pass through our bodies, leaving me feeling grounded, an escape from the reality of being terminal.

  “The nurse will take good care of you. I’m going to go get some coffee in the lounge and I will be right back,” he said, smiling at me with his beautiful prominent dimples halfway hidden beneath his scruffy whiskers. “I love you,” he pleaded, resting his forehead against mine. He pulled away and wiped his eyes.

  I wanted to tell him I loved him back. I wanted to scream it, jump out of the bed and wrap my arms around him, never let go. My heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest. I struggled to take control of my body, without any success. It only left me feeling fatigued and deflated.

  I had no dignity left: I couldn’t run, cook dinner, wash myself or even drink a glass of water on my own. I couldn’t even tell my husband I loved him. I closed my eyes as he faded off into the distance. I wished for an answer to my prayers. I wanted to talk again, just once before I died.

  The nurse changed my hospital gown. Although I’ve always been quite conservative, my body exposed seemed small compared to the things that really mattered to me. I was a fifty-one-year-old woman on hospice. After the surgery tomorrow, I wondered if I would still be alive to have the chance to talk again.

  The nurse turned me on my side, leaving a gateway for my tears to escape with gravity. She fluffed my pillows and laid them back beneath my head. I was trapped within my own body, a prison with steel bars. I blinked away the pain and gave up trying to stay awake, for I knew my only solace was in my dreams.

  CHAPTER TWO

  JANUARY 1991

  I woke up naked and cold, my red satin sheets covering everything but my toes. I could smell the rancid Kahlua seeping out of my pores and the sour taste of Colorado Bulldogs lingering on my breath. I rolled over to grab the other pillow to cover my atrocious headache.

  "Ouch!" a male voice yelled, my arm stopped mid-air by his face. My eyes shot open and I held my breath, my pulse throbbing in my stomach and chest. We both sat up quickly. I was lost in his beautiful blue eyes for only a second as I focused on making sure my naked breasts were completely covered. He held his hand over his eye in pain, laughing.

  I shot him my best death glare and let out an annoyed sigh, rolling my eyes.

  The sun blared through the east window, burning my eyes and intensifying my headache. It was quite deceiving considering it was mid-January in northern Minnesota.

  He saluted me, teasing me with his sexy dimples, and smiled. Ugh, he never took anything seriously. I pulled the blankets from him with a hard yank and he sat there completely naked.

  "Don't worry, I'm okay. Sure, you can have the blanket," he said, ignoring the fact that I didn't apologize.

  I couldn't help but stare at his defined biceps and six-pack.

  I looked down a little further and noticed he was at full attention and not even trying to cover himself up with the down comforter rolled up at the bottom of his feet, within reach.He had a grin on his face. I turned away quickly, pretending I didn't see a thing.

  I silently scolded myself for the shots of Patron and Colorado Bulldogs and that moment of weakness that led me to bed with him. I shook my head and closed my eyes for a moment, trying to figure out how I got here.

  "Where are my clothes!" It was more of a demand than a question.

  I heard the bed creak as he slowly made his way behind me. What was he doing? I felt something land on my face. I opened up my mouth, ready to yell at him, when I saw the red lace and snatched it from his hand. I slipped my arms through my bra and pulled the cups over the satin sheet covering me.

  "How the hell did this happen?"

  "You don't remember?"

  I focused on last night. Drinks at the bar, a couple shots, coming back to the house with him...oh no. I vividly remember dancing in my living room.

  "I dunno how you could forget," he said, shaking his finger at me. "We came home, you told me you wanted to show me what I was missing..."

  "That's enough!" I said, wanting him to stop reminding me. I felt my face growing red.

  I now remembered dancing while he sat on the couch, ripping off my clothes and throwing them at him.

  "Let's just say you put Shannon Tweed to shame," he laughed.

  I could hear him putting on his clothes as he rambled on.

  I struggled to clasp my bra around the sheet.

  "Need any help with that?"

  "No!" I snapped, holding the sheet securely in my teeth, still struggling to fasten my bra. My arms became tired as I tried to pull harder to gain slack so I could clasp it and get the hell out of here. I just about had it closed when the sheet pulled out of my mouth and fell to the floor before I could grab it. "Damn it!"

  I bent down quickly to pull the sheet back up and turned to see if he was looking. Of course he was.

  "Quite a view." He grinned. "You know, if you would have just let me help you, you wouldn't be struggling so much.” He walked behind me, softly taking the place of my hands and clasping it.

  I quickly adjusted the cups in place.

  "Thank you.” I said, turning around quickly.He was standing there in his boxer briefs and I couldn't help but stare at the defined lines running down the inside of his hip bones as they rode a little too low on his waist. He was doing this just to make a mockery of me.

  I turned around and spotted something red in the hallway.I ran away from him, holding the sheet as I bent down to pick up my underwear.<
br />
  I peeked down the hall and saw my clothes hanging over the side of the couch, just where they should have been. The thought of me seducing him with my notorious lap dance made my face grow hot again. I remembered him throwing me over his shoulder as he slapped my butt, heading to the bedroom.

  I need to get out of here, fast. Months without sex and a moment of weakness; I blame the alcohol. I heard his zipper as he stepped into the hallway, coming closer to me as I finished putting on my shirt with my back to him. I pushed the picture of him shirtless and defined out of my head and turned around.

  "Sorry if you got the wrong impression. I still want a divorce and I will be coming back to get my stuff when you are at work," I said.His face instantly desiccated. I grabbed my stilettos off the floor and carried them in my hand, slamming the door behind me.

  6 WEEKS LATER

  The ringing of my parents’ hallway phone woke me from a deep sleep.

  I rolled my eyes when the ringing wouldn’t stop and knew it was probably my mom calling. If I didn't answer, she would come home from work and pull me out of bed again.

  "Hello,” I said in my perkiest voice.

  "Please tell me you aren't still sleeping, Destiny. It’s nearly two in the afternoon."

  "Mom, I'm not sleeping. I was actually just getting out of the shower." I stood up quickly, getting my clothes together.

  "I'm sorry, I'm just worried about you, honey. You lay in bed most of the day and are up most of the night. You really need to find a job. You need to talk to your husband, he misses you. Are you taking the pills the doctor gave you?"

  "Mom, please stop," I said, rolling my eyes and heading to the bathroom down the hall. I put my nose to my armpit and made a sour face at the strong stench.