by E. M. Abel
Copyright © 2016 by E.M. Abel
All rights reserved.
Visit my website at http://emabelbooks.com
Cover Designer: Angela Fields
Editor and Interior Designer: Jovana Shirley, Unforeseen Editing, www.unforeseenediting.com
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
To my husband, Matthew.
Your love inspires me.
Thank you for being the man of my dreams.
Preface
Part I: A Matter of Time
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
Part II: A Matter of Life or Death
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
Epilogue
Special Thanks
About the Author
There I sat, waiting…
Tick-tock.
What a pathetic thing I’d become.
Only now, when I thought of it, I hadn’t become that way at all.
This was who I was.
Tick.
That was what I did.
Tock.
My life was a series of moments where I’d waited.
I used to dream of leading a fascinating life. I’d wanted excitement and adventure, but most of all, I’d wanted love. I’d thought, if I had a man’s love, everything else in my life would transform, morphing into something closer to what I’d imagined it should be.
When I was a child, I hadn’t been afraid to dream because the lines between reality and fantasy didn’t exist. Everything was real if I’d believed it to be. It wasn’t until I had been taught the difference that my dream had suddenly seemed intangible, irrational, something I could only hope to have.
I stared at my hands resting on my lap, the ticking clock taking me back to a moment and time when I’d thought I found the love I’d been hoping for.
I’d met Derek on a cloudy and hot day, the air thick with the impending rain. I had been on my way to class on the first day of my senior year in college, my life and my dreams waiting for me. I was going to be a nurse, a good one, too. I would save the world, one person at a time. At least, that was what I’d thought, but life had had another plan for me.
I stared at my feet as I held on to the straps of my backpack, the heavy weight of my books doing nothing to slow my pace. I watched each step, avoiding the trash on the sidewalk and the stares of the other students walking past. Unlike most of the people there, I was walking alone.
I’d busted my ass to get into college. I almost hadn’t made it with all the rebelling I’d done my freshman year in high school, but after watching my mom struggle to support my sister and me, I had known I wanted to make something of myself. I wanted to be independent.
Years of studying, volunteering, and extracurricular activities had secured me a scholarship to a state university. My mother worked hard to send me money for books, but everything else, I did on my own. The last thing I needed was a diversion, but fate has a funny way of tempting you with what you don’t need through something you want.
As I turned the corner of the student union, I gasped when the top of my head suddenly made contact with someone.
“Whoa. You okay?”
I took a step back and peered up. I squinted at the bright sun that had momentarily broken from the clouds, silhouetting the man in front of me.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry,” I muttered before tucking my hair behind my ear and quickly slipping my hand back under the strap on my shoulder.
It wasn’t until I was passing him that I noticed the military uniform.
“Hey, wait up.”
I didn’t. I kept walking. But instead of letting me go, he jogged to catch up.
“Where are you rushing off to?” he asked, walking backward in my path.
I looked up again, seeing his face this time. It was almost enough to slow me down. He had light eyes that were shadowed by the Marine Corps cover sitting low on his head. His smile was dazzling, all straight white teeth, with dimples on either side. His features were too young for the confidence he carried.
“Class,” was my response as I continued on my mission to the science department.
I didn’t have time for whatever game this guy was playing.
“Well, I figured that much—you know, with you wearing a backpack and all.”
He chuckled at his own joke as he turned and began walking next to me, his black boots looking much larger next to my Chuck Taylors.
I picked up my pace, keeping my eyes on the ground, as I made my way through campus.
“Jesus. What is this? Your morning power walk?”
I didn’t respond. He’d eventually get the hint. They always did.
“I’m Derek. What’s your name?” he asked, dodging another student who was too busy texting to realize he was there.
Stopping mid stride, I folded my arms over my chest as I prepared to rid myself of this new companion. No matter how gorgeous I found him, it didn’t matter. I wasn’t going to fall for another handsome face and more empty words. I was there to get a degree, to make sure I wouldn’t live paycheck to paycheck, like my mother. I’d learned a lot of life’s lessons through my mother’s mistakes. Most of all, I’d learned to protect my heart.
He seemed pleasantly surprised by my sudden lack of movement, a smirk playing on his lips.
He was my demise wrapped in camouflage.
“Look, whatever you’re selling, I’m not interested. I’m flattered, really, but no thanks.”
Before he had a chance to respond, I was back on my way to class, and this time, he let me go.
As I sat, listening to my professor explain the curriculum for the semester, I couldn’t help the small spark of excitement still blazing through my veins, no matter how hard I tried to smolder it. I might be determined and stubborn, but I wasn’t immune to the thrill a girl felt when someone attractive showed her attention. I was still human after all.
I’d probably replay my encounter with Derek in my mind as I fell asleep tonight, wishing I had reacted like a normal college girl would’ve when a handsome Marine asked for her name.
My late-night fantasies of falling in love and having a man sweep me off my feet and fill my life with romance were the only rewards I allowed myself for sticking to my plan. Of course, all of that would have to wait. I couldn’t afford to lose focus, not when I was so close to reaching my goals.
I was too busy to see I was preparing myself for a future I would happily abandon for a simple I love you.
When I left class that day, I never expected to find Derek waiting for me outside in the rain.
“Can I walk you home?” he asked as drops of water fell from the sky.
“You realize this is sort of creepy, right?”
He smiled, his eyes falling from mine to the ground. It was a moment of vulnerability that made my heart skip.
“I was going for ro
mantic,” he admitted, his hazel gaze connecting with mine again.
Biting my bottom lip, I struggled to hide my amusement as I began walking. His black boots disrupted the puddles on the ground as he joined me.
“Will you tell me your name?”
“Penelope.”
“Penelope,” he repeated.
The moment my name left his lips, I knew I wanted to hear him say it again.
A woman with a dream of being loved is a danger to herself because she will see it in places it doesn’t belong and doesn’t exist.
Alone in bed, I slid my feet back and forth underneath the Egyptian cotton sheets, somewhere between my dreams and hell. This was a morning ritual for me, trying hard to hold on to what little moments of peace my subconscious provided. I could be whatever I wanted in my dreams.
The sounds of reality began to intrude—kids playing outside, birds chirping at each other. I groaned as I rolled onto my side and felt the stiffness in my head and neck. I was getting old. Today was my birthday, and I was now officially thirty, the big three-zero.
Reluctantly, I peeled my eyes open and looked at the alarm clock on Derek’s nightstand. It was already nine thirty, but that meant little to me. I had nowhere to go, no one to see. Against my better judgment, I opened my eyes wider and slowly sat up, looking around the room to see if Derek might have remembered. Perhaps he had left a note or flowers.
Nothing.
My jaw clenched shut, and I fell back onto my pillow, staring at the wooden ceiling fan spinning above me. I could feel that familiar sting of sadness and regret crawling its way out of my gut again. Gnawing on my bottom lip, I tried to fight my natural reaction to numb the pain. I’d told myself I was going to slow down and eventually quit.
But it’s your birthday, the devil in my head reminded me.
So, before I could ignore it, before the guilt and shame had a chance to resurface, I rolled out of bed and went straight to the bathroom where my orange prescription bottle of Xanax waited for me.
I was hungover, but that was nothing new. The constant headache and uneasy feeling in my stomach were becoming normal, expected. As I filled a glass with water, I stared at my bloodshot green eyes in the mirror. There was a time when I’d looked at those eyes with pride, and they’d stared back, full of hope and promise. Now, all I saw were dull pools of disappointment.
Sighing, I tossed a pill into my mouth and swallowed it down with a gulp of water. After brushing my teeth and avoiding my reflection, I made my way into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. My bare feet were cold as they pressed against the hardwood floor.
I was scooping coffee into the filter when the house phone began to ring. I ignored it, letting the answering machine do the work for me.
Derek’s voice came through the speaker, deep and confident. “You’ve reached the Baylor residence. We’re not home right now, so please leave a message, and we will return your call as soon as possible.”
Beep.
“Baby, wake up.”
My hand hovered over the container of coffee when I heard his voice, and I closed my eyes, feeling the sting of tears in my nose.
“Penelope. Wake up, baby. It’s your birthday! You thought I forgot, didn’t you? I’m coming home early, so get ready. I’m taking you out!”
Moving my hand to the edge of the counter, I hung my head as I felt my heart trying to heal again.
What a stupid thing the heart was, always fighting to survive even when it was futile. Every heart broke and eventually died. It was only a matter of time.
I could see specks of dust floating in a beam of light. Small pieces of dirt and death were making their slow descent. Funny how even dust could seem significant and beautiful when you were in love, when you were happy.
I felt Derek slide his warm, rough hand up my arm, the little hairs lifting in its wake.
“Good morning, beautiful.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks as I met his hooded gaze.
I’d lost my virginity to him just eight hours before. At first, I had been terrified, but in the end, I’d willingly given it to him. We’d only been together for a few weeks, but no one had ever made me feel the way Derek did. When he looked at me, he saw nothing else. In those moments, his world revolved around me. I’d never been the center of any man’s universe.
A smile tugged at my lips. “Good morning.”
His hazel eyes held mine until he leaned over, softly kissing me. He smelled like mint and promises. I could feel my heartbeat racing as his demanding tongue glided against mine. His hand left my arm and moved to smooth stray hairs off my forehead just before he broke our kiss. He was studying my face, like it held some secret meaning he was trying to discover.
“I love you,” he said.
I memorized how his lips looked as they wrapped around those words.
I love you.
I wasn’t sure if I should, but I believed him. I had to because I loved him, too.
With the window open, I sat on the bathroom floor, a bottle of perfume sitting on the white tiles next to me and a towel stuffed under the door. Inhaling the harsh smoke from my joint, I held it in my lungs, letting it burn, until I had to release it to breathe. I could feel my focus fade as I stared at the bare branches of the tree outside. The cold air filled the room, making goose bumps rise on my skin. I brought the joint to my dry lips and took another drag, feeling the numbness start to take effect. Xanax, a cup of coffee, and a joint…breakfast of champions.
Derek’s motorcycle roared down our street, the sound coming from its muffler getting louder by the second. I quickly took one last drag before tossing the roach into the toilet and spritzing perfume around the room and on my shirt. After flushing, I moved to the mirror and looked at the pupils and irises staring back at me. They weren’t mine. They didn’t belong to me anymore.
The front door to the house slammed.
“Baby! Where are you? Did you get my message?” Derek shouted toward our bedroom.
I crawled back into bed and opened a book I’d been pretending to read for days.
A few seconds later, the door opened, but I refused to lift my gaze. I listened as his boots made their way across the floor toward the bed. As he leaned in, his weight caused the mattress to dip beneath him.
“I love you, baby,” he whispered against my hair.
I bit the inside of my cheek and acted like those words hadn’t ignited an aching burn in my chest.
“It’s your birthday. Cheer up.”
There was that look again, the one that had made me believe I was the only one. Derek smiled at me as my gaze focused on his. I could still see that twenty-three-year-old staring back at me—happy, carefree, and impulsive. His square jaw and perfect dimples, flawless tan skin and hazel eyes—all of it was hiding the ugliness he carried inside.
“Come on, get dressed. I’m taking you out.”
I shook my head and blinked slowly, feeling light-headed from the weed. “I don’t want to go out.”
His eyebrows drew together, and a look of disappointment swept over his features.
He really is clueless, isn’t he?
“Why not?”
Reaching out, he tried to sweep my hair from my face, but I shrugged him off. He wasn’t allowed to do that to me anymore.
“Oh, come on, baby, don’t be like that.” He leaned down and kissed my shoulder.
I could feel his heat seeping into my pores, trying to melt me again.
“Take a ride with me. Just you and me…like old times,” he said, his hand sliding down my arm.
He had this down to an art, playing me like a fine-tuned instrument, one he’d meticulously created.
The fucked-up thing was, when he told me he loved me, I believed him…still. It was like he saw love as this consistent thing that never wavered or weakened, but then again, I’d never hurt him the way he’d hurt me.
I stared at myself in the mirror as I swallowed another Xanax. I’d been taking them for a few weeks now bec
ause numbing my discontent was much easier than facing it. It was hard to admit the fact that I was no longer happy, that my marriage hadn’t turned out the way I’d hoped. I wanted a partner, I wanted to spend the rest of my life with my best friend, but as the years had gone on, it’d become painfully obvious that Derek was neither of those things.
I’d convinced my doctor that I had anxiety. I knew the symptoms, and with a little acting, he had given me the prescription I’d hoped for. It was wrong, and it wasn’t a solution to my problem, but it made facing each day a little easier.
Glancing at the negative pregnancy test in the trashcan, I was reminded of my defectiveness as the bathroom gradually filled with steam. Breaking my gaze, I began stripping my clothes off when I realized I’d forgotten a towel. My robe felt cool against my skin as I slipped it on and went out into the hallway to get one from the linen closet. Bare feet landed silently on the hardwood floor as I approached the closet door.
Derek’s familiar voice came from the kitchen. “You know I care about you, baby.”
My body froze, and my heart hammered in my chest as his words chipped away at it.
“I just can’t. I need time. No. No, I haven’t slept with her. She’s my wife. What do you expect me to do?”
I felt suspended in time. It was like being in a car crash, moving in slow motion, as I waited for the impact to crush and rip me to shreds. I could do nothing to stop it.
“I have to go. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
I sucked air in through my nose, and my chest expanded as I took a step backward, careful not to make a sound. I didn’t want Derek to see me. I wanted to know something he didn’t even if that knowledge destroyed me. For once in our marriage, I wanted some control.
I had known Derek was cheating on me before I’d heard that phone call. I had no proof, but I knew. We’d both been unhappy for a while, but neither of us had the courage to admit it. We’d been so blissful once. Maybe it was too hard to acknowledge that our love had been failing.
The truth was, I didn’t want the truth. I would have stayed buried in my ignorance if it meant I could believe him when he said, I love you.
