Romance: My Stepbrother's Plaything

by Valentine, Annie

  Life tends to have the habit of never cleverly resolving at a brief set time. Because life tends to leave wounds that can hurt to touch even after years and those take their sweet time to heal. Hannah understood that and she knew that she would not garner any progress by pushing Nick into making a decision now. She knew that she had to respect his wishes and give him space, even though she loved him.

  “You can take as long as you want,” she told him.

  This time, their goodbye was more bittersweet and when they hugged each other at the door, it still held that desperation from before but also, it held a promise. A promise that stated that they were two people that loved each other dearly but life threw curveballs their way. A promise that resonated with the wedding vows they said to each other in a time when things were normal. And so, if they were to be together for each other for better or for worse, this would be their worse.

  EPILOGUE

  Three weeks passed since that day Nick announced that he required some time to think about things. Three weeks is a long time when your entire life for the past eight years is on the line but Hannah knew that she had no other choice to wait it out and let him consider his decision.

  Rushing things could mean pent up future resentment or even worse, him rejecting the idea straight up and that was the last thing Hannah wanted. She wanted to make sure he comes to a conclusion on his own terms.

  Serendipity means finding happiness at unlikely times and places and that was what happened when one night, Hannah sat cross legged at the edge of her bed, chowing down on a box of cereal. Her mind was distracted as she watched a vapid television show to get her mind off everything that was going on around her.

  That was when her phone buzzed.

  Nick: meet me at the place we always went

  Hannah was partly surprised but mostly happy to get the text. The message was a little cryptic but she knew exactly what the meant as she pulled up outside of the beach.

  She walked over to his usual spot where he liked to take her before and a wave of nostalgia hit her as she thought about all the times they had come here as a teenager. But she shook her head and dispelled all such thoughts as she finally spotted a dark silhouette standing close to the waves and she knew it was him.

  She did not speak a word as she just silently went and joined him. He did not say a word either as he slowly interlinked his fingers with hers. They stood there together for a long time in silence just holding hands. In that moment, it was as though they had reconciled at a level that words could not provide.

  Finally, Nick spoke up again, “I want to get back together,” he said silently.

  “Even after you know what I have decided to do with the child?” she found herself asking, thinking that she needed to be pinched because of the surrealism of his words.

  “I stand by you,” he said, “and I will always stand by you. We can raise it together as our own,” he said and Hannah knew it had taken him a long time and hard contemplation to arrive to this conclusion.

  Hannah could not control the emotions that overcame her at that moment as she flung herself towards him and buried her head in his neck. He instantly wrapped an arm around her waist and again, they just stood there holding each other for a long moment.

  It seemed tonight words were not the way they would be doing most of their communicating.

  “Nick, I love you,” she told her as she held onto him, the sea breeze hitting her face.

  “I love you, too,” he told her in response.

  One Year Later

  Hannah and Nick’s decision to stay together did not come without a cost as they still understood that they needed to talk about their issues in depth, lest they be left to fester and grow into poison trees. So they started to attend couples counseling shortly after getting together but their getting together had been more or less been a smooth sailing journey.

  They were quickly fell back into their old patterns but this time, they both also embarked on another journey together where they learned the highs and lows of a pregnancy.

  Nick was at first a little apprehensive about this change in particular but that evening when he held her hand as she went into labor and after diligent effort, she gave birth to a baby girl, Nick knew right there and then that he was in love with the child and that there was no going back.

  They named her Elizabeth.

  And soon, she became the center of their universe. They laughed as she laughed and they stayed up nights just to rock her back to sleep. It was one of those things they didn’t realize they needed but when it finally came to them, it was more than they could have imagined having.

  Quickly, Elizabeth also became integrated into their close friends and family. Even though they were not secretive about the details of her conception, she was still accepted into their circle as if it was Nick’s and Hannah’s own child.

  And in all ways except biological, she was.

  “I cannot wait when she finally starts talking,” Nick remarked as he bounced four month old Elizabeth in his lap.

  Hannah laughed, “You say that about everything.”

  “Because that’s what I feel about everything,” he replied, “It’s like everything she does is like some big new exciting thing for me each time.”

  Hannah laughed – fatherhood came naturally to Nick that she wondered why he was ever so apprehensive about having his own children.

  “You’re adorable,” she told him as she sat down next to him and took little Elizabeth from his lap.

  He grinned and moved forward to catch her hand in her own, “You’re not so bad yourself,” he said, kissing her cheek and then moved forward and planted a kiss on Elizabeth’s cheek as well, “but she’s the most adorable one out of us all.”

  Hannah chuckled, “Of course – we do not stand a chance!”

  As though Elizabeth realized that she was being talked about, she began to let out small sounds of happiness. Hannah and Nick caught each other’s eye and they knew that Elizabeth was the light of their life now.

  13. Mail Order Lies

  By: Elisha Cohen

  Mail Order Lies

  © Elisha Cohen, July 2016 – All rights reserved

  Published by Steamy Reads Publishing

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events are purely coincidental. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

  This book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please return it to the seller and purchase a copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Warning

  This book contains graphic content intended for readers 18+ years old.

  If you are under 18 years old, or are not comfortable with adult content, please close this book now.

  Chapter 1

  It had been about five years since my mother passed away. She was the one who raised me- the one who made sure I had clothes to wear and food to eat, all those nights that my father was out getting drunk and running around with five different women. When my mother finally divorced him, her health was failing, and he didn’t even have the heart to see that she had proper medical attention. I looked out my farm house window and sighed. Life, it seemed, didn’t always have a happy ending.

  I stood up from my perch on the love-seat and decided that I had had enough of the sulking and then brooding. There was nothing that I could do to change the past. Both my mother and my father were gone, out of my life comp
letely, and it was up to me alone now to try and piece together the rest of my life. I dreamed of having a family, of sharing my love with a child, or children, even. I knew that I didn’t want to have a relationship like the one that my mother and father had, but that I could, instead, find one that was successful, positive, and supportive.

  After a few minutes of gazing out at the field of sunflowers, I decided to break out of my normal routine and go to the local coffee shop for an espresso and a scone. I wanted to treat myself since I’d been feeling so down lately. Last week marked what would have been my parents’ twenty year wedding anniversary. I had celebrated, silently and alone, with a bottle of champagne and a plate of cheese. It was somewhat comforting to remember their union, but at the same time it pained me to think about what could have been, and what would never be.

  “Enough sadness!” I yelled out loud and then walked toward my bedroom. I lived in a modest two story home that had been purchased, in part, with the inheritance money that my mother had endowed me with. It was architecturally pleasing, with clean lines and modern décor, but something about it always felt sterile and empty. I pictured having a brood of children running around, messing up the furniture and marking up the walls with crayons. Yet as of today, I was still as single as ever, and not even close to designing a nursery in the empty bedroom.

  The sun beamed out from the horizon, and I slid on a tank top and a pair of running shorts. I always tried to exercise on my days off from the book store, and today was no exception. I decided to hit the backwoods trial that led to the Diamond Ridge, then cut left and circle toward Conscious Coffee, which was nestled between Broadway and Cactus Avenue. I laced my sneakers, grabbed a bottle of water, then headed out the door. I already felt better just by getting myself out of the large and lonely house.

  When I reached the end of the street, I started my run. It felt good to have the sun beating on my arms, to feel the release of sweat from my pores. I always felt lighter when I went running, as if the weight of the world eased itself off my shoulders, even if only slightly. When I made it around the bend, I could see the path that led to the Diamond Ridge, and I picked up my pace to see how quickly I could reach it. Once there, I headed up, beyond the sage brush and the junipers, till I reached the leveled, gravel trail in the pines.

  Running always cleared my head. I fell into a rhythm, breathing in and breathing out, watching the bushes and the flowers as I breezed by them. I thought about what happiness meant, about what I could do to find it in my own life. Maybe there really was someone out there that was right for me. Maybe, with just a little more patience and perseverance, I would finally meet someone who wanted to settle down and shape a life together.

  When I reached the top of the ridge, I slowed down and eventually stood still. I could see all of Sedona down below, and it filled me with a sense of accomplishment to have made it to the end of my run. I knew that if I could keep the same determination and apply it to my personal life that I’d eventually end up in a good space. I wiped off my brow and then started my descent down the ridge, then gradually wound my way toward the downtown strip.

  “Good afternoon, Leila. What can I get for you today?” Pete Dunphy smiled from behind the counter. I had been a regular at Conscious Coffee since moving to Sedona, and I loved the fact that I could count on seeing a familiar face whenever I walked through the doors to his shop. He always served fresh, gourmet drinks, and it was relaxing to sit and pass the time in his establishment.

  “I’ll have one of your famous strawberry Frappuccino’s.” I smiled and fished around in my wallet for money. Pete got to work on my drink and then moved away from his blender.

  “I thought of you the other day. One of my buddies came in with a new healthy living magazine, and there was some kind of ad in there for a mail order bride.” Pete chuckled and then returned to the blender. I rolled my eyes.

  “Are you serious, Pete?” I shook my head and pouted, playfully. “A mail order bride?” I sighed and then leaned up against the counter. “I might be single and lonely, but I don’t think I’m exactly desperate just yet.” I pulled my hair back away from my face and then watched as Pete poured my drink into a tall, blue glass. He set it on the counter and then shrugged.

  “Well. You know what they say. Right?” He looked at me with curiosity. “You never know unless you try.” He shrugged and then walked back to his berries and coffees. I stood motionless for a second, then lifted the cool drink off the counter and walked toward the register where Pete met me with a smile.

  “I wish I were as lucky as you, Pete.” I was serious. Pete had a beautiful wife and two adorable children. He and his family lived up in the Arizona mountains and they donated a large portion of their profits to conservation efforts in the Southwest. I admired his tenacity, his good work ethic, and his overall quality as a human being. I wished that I could find someone like Pete one day.

  “I guess you could say that luck has a little to do with success.” Pete shrugged again, then leaned against the counter. “But I think finding a life partner also has a lot to do with being ready. Maybe you just haven’t been in the right space for being serious with anyone.” Pete smiled and then rang up my drink. I handed him a five-dollar bill and then dropped the change into one of his charity cups.

  I sat down at one of the tables by the window and sipped on my drink. It was refreshing and delicious. After a few minutes, I got up and wandered toward the magazines that were situated in the back of the shop. Pete usually had a nice selection of current publications, and I always found something interesting to read without having to look too hard. I picked up the first magazine that caught my eye. It was called “Healthy Expectations” and it had a photograph of a suntanned, auburn haired woman on the cover. She was seated under a swath of tall pines, and she wore a thin, red ribbon in her hair.

  “Maybe Pete’s right.” I mumbled under my breath as I flipped through the pages. “Maybe it just hasn’t been the right time for me to meet anyone.” I shrugged and then carried the magazine back to my table. Then I sat down and turned the pages until an article on sustainable living caught my eye. I skimmed the article, decided that the magazine was worth reading, and got up to buy a scone. When I sat back down, I opened up the back page to browse the classifieds. That’s when I saw the ad.

  Chapter 2

  “Seeking One Perfect Mail-Order Bride.” The title of the ad stood out from all the rest. I bypassed the Help-Wanted, the Dogs for Sale, and the Workshops categories, settling my eyes on the one, dominating ad. The description continued: Wealthy cowboy in the mountains of Montana seeks a patient, kind, generous woman to step in as his bride. The arrangement will involve care for infant son, and general household responsibilities. Only serious inquiries need apply.” I read the ad three times before closing the magazine and sipping what was left of my smoothie.

  The sun cast a few shadows over the valley, and I looked at the time. Where had it gone? I sighed and clutched the magazine under my arm, then sidled my way up to the counter. Pete was washing some glasses and paused when he saw me standing before him. “Is this the ad you were referring to?” I gave him a cautionary smile and folded back the magazine page. He nodded his head and chuckled.

  “That most certainly is it, Leila.” He wiped off the counter and then leaned in with a smile. “Like I said- you’ll never know unless you try. Right?” He shrugged and then smiled. “Take the magazine home with you and just think about it.” Pete pulled out a container of lemons and started slicing. I nodded my head and smiled.

  “Okay.” I held the magazine in my hands and then nodded my head. “I’ll take it and give it some thought. I guess times have changed and mail-order brides might not be what they used to be. Right?” I figured I probably didn’t have anything to lose. At this point, I was feeling a little more confident. What did I Have to lose? Nobody could predict another person’s happiness, or another person’s success. Pete was right. I might as well give it a try.

  A
swift, unexpected rain fell over Sedona as soon as I walked out of Conscious Café. It was cold, and the drops felt good as they pelted my bare skin. I walked briskly through the downtown and hailed a cab once it started to really fall down. “You can drop me off at the corner of Arroyo Avenue.” I fished around in my pocket to find a few dollars, then situated myself in the back seat, watching quietly as the passersby scurried to get out of the wetness.

  “Thank, miss.” The cabbie smiled as I handed him the crumpled bills. I flung open the back door, grabbed my magazine, and then bounded away from the cab. He took off just as a bolt of lightning streaked across the sky. “Wow!” I darted over puddles that had already formed in front of the sidewalk, then wound my way down the avenue until I reached the front door of my house. I opened the door, kicked off my drenched sneakers, then plopped down on the couch. It felt good to be out of the rain.

  I reached for the magazine that had survived the torrential downpour. I pressed down the pages and then opened it up to the back where the mail-order bride ad was. Then I bit my lower lip. I could already detect the subtle doubt creeping into my mind. What if the man who wrote the ad thought I was too young? What if he thought I was too inexperienced? Or what if he thought I wasn’t pretty enough? What I just flat-out wasn’t his type? My mind wandered, inviting in all sorts of possible negatives. I ran my hands through my hair, then got up to make some tea.

  “What do I have to lose? Right?” I posed my questions aloud. “If he doesn’t like me, then he just doesn’t like me. Right?” I shrugged and then pulled out a box of peppermint tea from the kitchen cabinet. I set some water on the stove-top, then waited patiently for it to boil, all the while, brooding over the endless stream of possibilities. “That’s it.” I reached for a spoon, poured the hot water into my mug, then dangled the tea bag inside. “No more questions.” I shook my head then carried my tea carefully into the living room. It was time for action.