by Mona Ingram
The
FOREVER
Series
3-Book Box Set
by
Mona Ingram
COVER DESIGN:
Elizabeth Mackey Graphic Design
About This Series
Each book in the ‘Forever’ series focuses on a woman at a crossroads in her life. These romances contain no graphic sex, but instead focus on the woman’s story, and how her journey leads to love. Novella-length at between 32,00-40,000 words, each is a complete story, and they may be read in any order.
Enjoy!
Copyright © 2016 Mona Ingram
All rights reserved.
These are works of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locations is entirely coincidental.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Forever Changed
This Time Forever
Now and Forever
Forever Changed
Chapter One
“I’M SORRY MRS. LOGAN, but the biopsy came back positive.” The doctor placed her fingertips on the chart in front of her and looked up. “You have cancer.”
Ariana blinked several times, trying to concentrate on the doctor’s words. There must be something wrong with her, because all she felt was pity for the woman across the desk. It must be so difficult to come to work each day, knowing there was a good chance she’d have to inform someone that their life was about to change.
The doctor droned on. “...ductal carcinoma in situ...” “...non-invasive form of breast cancer...” “referral to oncologist...”
Ariana wondered if it would be possible to snatch the phrases from the air and slip them into her purse. Then she’d bring them out later and examine them at her leisure. But they were out there now, floating around, and she couldn’t reel them in. She found herself strangely removed from the scene as the doctor continued.
Ariana wasn’t surprised... not really. She’d been holding her breath, expecting these results every year for the past four years – longer, actually.
“I know this is a shock, but we need to move things along and get you an appointment with an oncologist as soon as possible.”
That’s where you’re wrong, thought Ariana with a faint smile. I’m not shocked at all. Ever since the woman at the mammogram screening site asked me to come back for a do-over, I’ve known that this was the year. The technicians were experts at hiding behind their professional masks, but this time had been different. The expression on her face had given her away... in some ways it was a relief not to have to watch for that flash of pity any longer.
I could probably squeeze out a few tears, she thought irrationally. It might make me seem more normal. But she was tired of doing what was expected of her.
The doctor gave her an odd look, and for the first time in ages Ariana didn’t care what someone else thought.
“You’ll have a lot of questions,” said the doctor kindly. “My receptionist will give you some literature on the way out and I recommend that you read it before your appointment with the oncologist.” She leaned forward. “At times like this, we like to recommend that you take someone with you to that first appointment. With two of you there, you’re more likely to remember what’s been said.” She glanced down at the chart. “Will your husband be able to accompany you, do you think?”
Ariana nodded. “Oh, yes.” The truth was she had no idea, but she wasn’t going to let the doctor in on that little secret. Pictures of the smiling couple were plastered all over town. It wouldn’t do to shatter the illusion. No, it wouldn’t do at all.
“THAT WENT WELL.” ARIANA spoke aloud as she walked toward her car in the parking lot, several brochures clutched in her hand. She had taken some sort of perverse delight in not crying when the doctor gave her the news. Why she was playing games at this point, she had no idea. No... wait... she did know. Her emotions were one of the few things she had control over and she desperately needed to be in control of something. Too bad it had taken breast cancer for that to happen.
She slid behind the wheel of her car, wondering where to go from here. Having been fairly sure of the outcome of the biopsy, she’d cleared her morning but had no idea what to do with the unaccustomed freedom.
Her hand trembled as she tried to fit the key in the ignition. Okay, perhaps she wasn’t as together as she liked to think. “You can do this,” she said aloud. That made twice today she’d talked to herself, and twice today she didn’t care. Things were looking up.
The car seemed to have a mind of its own... or was it merely tuned in to her thoughts? She found herself traveling one of her favourite routes around the outside of James Bay. Past waterfront hotels, slowing for the clip-clop of horse-drawn wagons full of tourists, past exclusive waterfront condos, past the docks where a massive white cruise ship disgorged travellers eager to spend money on Government Street, and then to Dallas Road, with the ocean on one side and high rise apartments on the other.
She pulled into one of the angled parking spaces just past the duck pond, where an older gentleman guided his model sailboat via remote. She watched him for several moments, clearing her mind of everything except the pleasure on the man’s face as the sails caught a puff of wind and filled.
Stepping out of the car, she glanced up. The sky was blue, but the weather here in Victoria could change at a moment’s notice, and she grabbed a jacket from the back seat and headed for the walking path.
She thought of him every time she came here. It had never occurred to her before, but maybe that’s why she kept coming back... the innocent, happy memories. Peter Marshall had been her first boyfriend in high school. They had dated for two years – a long time back then – and they had come here often, usually on Sunday afternoons. In the spot just ahead, where the windswept bushes arched over the path, he’d kissed her for the first time. Odd how the only time she thought of him was when she came here, but she could still recall the sweetness of that first kiss, the gentle sweep of his tongue as he probed at her lips. Recently a business associate had told her that Peter had become a successful yacht broker in Vancouver, and that he and his wife had twin boys. Peter had been one of the good guys; he deserved to be happy and fulfilled.
Rounding a corner, she saw that her favourite bench was free. Sitting on a narrow strip of land between the pathway and the drop-off to the ocean below, the bench faced the water, and on a clear day like today, the Olympic Mountains of Washington State shimmered in the distance.
If Ariana’s friend Jodi were here, she would advise her to breathe, among other things. Jodi was never shy when it came to handing out advice, but in this case it made sense. Eyes closed, Ariana inhaled deeply, and then exhaled through her mouth, as Jodi had taught her. A few more calming breaths and she’d be ready to unlock the door in her mind and let her thoughts run free. She had to deal with them sooner or later, and this was as good a spot as any.
What was it about getting cancer that forced you to face life? Silly question. At twenty-eight, she’d thought herself mature, but it wasn’t until she’d discovered a lump during a routine self-exam in the shower that something had clicked. Up until then, she’d been what psychologists like to call a pleaser. She’d lived her life worrying about what others would think rather than what was good for her. She couldn’t change the past, but she’d made a solemn promise to herself that if the biopsy came back positive, she would take a clear, cold look at her future. The habits of a lifetime wouldn’t be easy to change, but it was her lifetime at stake, and breast cancer was a powerful incentive.
Ariana had kn
own for years that there was a high likelihood she would get cancer. She’d learned about breast cancer first hand at the age of sixteen when her mother died. Her aunt on her mother’s side had died two years before her mother, and four years ago her older sister Melanie had succumbed.
After the death of her mother, Ariana and her sister had become close. They spoke almost every day, and when Melanie reported that her cancer had metastasized through her lymph nodes, Ariana delayed her wedding to Jeremy so the sisters could spend more time together. Looking back, that had been the first and last time she’d gone against Jeremy’s wishes. Of course they were married now, and her sister was a memory, so in the end, her husband got what he wanted – her undivided attention.
She sighed and pulled her jacket around her shoulders. Could she be strong now? Sea otters frolicked in the seaweed below, but lost in thought, Ariana didn’t notice. Overwhelmed by the enormity of what was to come, she rocked back and forth, ignoring the sparkling ocean just yards away, and the constant flow of walkers and joggers at her back.
Chapter Two
BLAINE BENNETT PARKED by the cruise ship terminal and studied the ship docked there as he did a few quick stretches. Like many young couples, he and Erin had dreamed about taking a cruise, thinking there would be plenty of time when they were older. He hadn’t known back then that all it would ever be was a dream. A dream that would never be fulfilled.
He scowled at the ship and started running, trying to moderate his speed. Erin had been gone for well over two years now, but that didn’t stop him from the crushing guilt that swamped him every time he looked at another woman. And last night he’d done more than look... a lot more. None of his friends knew that he’d gone without a woman for this long. If they had, they would have made it their business to get him laid. They wanted him to be happy – he knew that – but one thing he refused to discuss was his sex life – even when it had been non-existent.
But something had happened last night when Amber walked into the bar where they’d been watching the Stanley Cup finals. She was beautiful but not flashy and he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her pale, porcelain skin and dark hair resembled Erin so much his heart ached and he’d turned away, determined to ignore her. But he’d eventually turned back, reeled in by those mesmerizing eyes. She hadn’t flirted, but the slow, knowing smile had been his undoing, and before he could stop himself he’d left his beer on the table and walked over to where she was sitting with some friends.
“Hi” she said, her husky voice doing strange things to his insides. “Took you long enough.”
He couldn’t think of anything intelligent to say, so he’d just smiled and hoped she hadn’t noticed how his jeans were suddenly too tight.
Later, as they lay in bed, her hair spilled on his chest, she told him that she’d decided to sleep with him the moment she saw him. There hadn’t been any question in her mind; she’d known she wanted him. Raising herself on one elbow, she traced the tattoo that started on the side of his neck, ran over and around his shoulder, and ended halfway down his bicep. “I do like a man with a tattoo,” she’d murmured, her tongue following the path of her finger.
For one wild, insane moment as he made love to her for the third time, Blaine saw Erin’s face. But like a man stranded in the desert who finally comes upon water, he couldn’t stop. And to make matters worse, he’d made plans to see her again. No wonder he hated himself right now.
His breathing became ragged as he neared his favourite spot on the trail. Here, at the edge of the Pacific, the wind gusted off the ocean, causing an updraft. At this time of year, swallows rode the air currents, swooping and jinking, catching bugs for their young. He paused at his usual spot to admire them for a few moments, the ultimate flyers, wild and free.
As he turned to continue, he spotted a woman sitting on the bench where he’d sat many times, thinking about Erin. Small and delicate, she had a jacket wrapped around her shoulders and was hunched over, rocking back and forth in an almost undetectable motion. Although he couldn’t see her face, there was something about her that was familiar. Long blonde hair swirled around her head but she ignored it, staring out to sea.
Was she all right? He looked up and down the deserted path, worried for her safety. This was historically a safe area, but there was something vulnerable about her... something that made him want to gather her in his arms and protect her.
And yet instinct told him she wouldn’t welcome interference. He jogged in place for several minutes, then ran backwards for a few steps before turning and continuing on. He only had a quarter of a mile to go before it was time to turn around. If she was still there when he came back, he’d approach her and ask if she was all right.
Chapter Three
ARIANA ROSE FROM THE bench and stood for a few moments on unsteady legs. It was telling, she thought, that at one of the major turning points of her life she didn’t want to talk to Jeremy. Come to think of it, there were very few times recently when she willingly entered into conversation with her husband. In the last few months, he’d belittled everything that came out of her mouth. His constant criticism was draining, both emotionally and physically. Perhaps when she told him about the cancer diagnosis he would turn back into the caring, considerate man she’d met all those years ago. A disbelieving snort escaped her lips as she pulled her jacket closer and walked toward her car. These days, Jeremy Logan’s interests included nothing that didn’t benefit him directly. She’d be foolish to lose sight of that fact.
ARIANA TURNED ONTO Cook Street and headed for her office. Cambridge Realty had been started by two men – her father, Joseph Ryan and Aaron Logan, Jeremy’s father. The two men had been friends and business partners for many years, and had built the real estate company into one of the most successful in Victoria. When Jeremy’s father died unexpectedly of a heart attack six years ago, Ariana’s father had seen the writing on the wall. Missing his old friend, and tired of living alone, he’d retired and remarried in the space of a year. The office building had been constructed on land owned by Ariana’s father, resulting in the business being owned 55 percent by him, and 45 percent by Jeremy’s father. Ownership was now split in the same percentages between Ariana and Jeremy. As she neared the half-acre lot in a prime spot in the Cook Street Village, she couldn’t help but ask herself which Jeremy cared for more: her or the business.
Ariana slowed in front of the free-standing building, but knew she couldn’t go in. Not yet. Especially with Kathryn Logan sitting at the receptionist’s desk. Jeremy’s mother had been with the firm since the beginning. Her encyclopedic memory of real estate transactions was remarkable, but she was a bitter, unpleasant woman who reminded Ariana of a piranha. Blood in the water was her signal to go in for the kill; it wasn’t a pretty sight.
Proud of her decision to avoid the office, Ariana made her way slowly around the Empress to Government Street, then continued to Wharf Street, where Jodi’s studio awaited. A visit with Jodi was precisely what she needed. There was nothing she could say that would shock her friend; as a matter of fact Jodi would be insulted if Ariana didn’t practice her “I have cancer” speech on her first.
Horns blared as Ariana signaled for a left turn. Left turns were not technically allowed here. She usually went around the block to turn around, but today was a day for flaunting the rules.
“Yes!” she said aloud as a cab driver stopped and jerked his thumb. She waved a thank you and turned onto the steep ramp leading down to the water level.
Arranging the sale of the building to Jodi had been one of Ariana’s first deals as a licensed realtor. It had also been one of the most satisfying transactions of her career. Not because of the commission, but because Jodi appreciated the history behind the building, and was determined to preserve as much of the original structure as possible.
Victoria’s rich history included being a jumping-off spot for miners heading for the Fraser Valley gold rush in 1858, as well as the 1862 Cariboo gold rush. As miners flooded in,
swelling the population from 500 to 20,000 in a matter of a few years, building materials had been at a premium. Bricks used as ballast in some of the old sailing ships were used to construct many buildings along Wharf Street. One of the originals, Jodi’s building was not only rich with history, but aesthetically pleasing with its walls of raw brick. Every time Ariana drove along the waterfront, her imagination conjured up visions of horses, carts and miners mingling with Chinese laborers, all struggling through the quagmire that had been Wharf Street in those days.
She parked and looked up at the building, wincing at the pink neon sign advertising Jodi’s business. Incongruous against the antique bricks, Ariana had never had the nerve to ask her friend if she’d ordered it as a joke. Since she was unwilling to risk hurting her friend’s feelings, the answer to that question would remain a mystery.
New Beginnings fitness studio overlooked Victoria harbour and had been a success from the moment Jodi opened the doors. A surprising number of people lived in the area, and that fact, combined with the lack of parking, meant that many of Jodi’s customers walked to their workout. But the biggest draw was Jodi herself. A self-described fitness fanatic, she worked her private clients relentlessly, and her capacity for compassion was immense. The two women had been friends since meeting in the schoolyard many years ago. Thinking of that day, Ariana smiled. An older child had been pushing her around and Jodi had come to her rescue, running the girl off, then turning on Ariana, eyes flashing. “You gotta stand up for yourself,” she said, looking Ariana up and down. “Especially if we’re going to be friends. So get with the program.”
Ariana still couldn’t match Jodi’s saucy attitude, but their friendship had mellowed with age, and Jodi hardly ever brought her up short any more.
