It was strange to me because I thought our friendship had been real. But it was hard to sort out now since he had avoided me like the plague ever since he realized I wasn’t interested in him romantically.
And I honestly didn’t want to dissect it too much.
“Hi, Kate. How are you?” His smile was genuine, even as his gaze drifted to my small, round belly.
At the end of June, I was only three months along, but there was a small enough bump to make it clear that I was pregnant. The kids had been out of school for three weeks, but teachers still hung around, working on their classrooms or teaching summer school.
I was packing up my classroom, as I would be taking a couple years off. I had a baby to raise. A family to focus on.
A husband to let take care of me.
“I’m good,” I told him honestly. I allowed a smile and repeated, “I’m really good.”
“You look good, Kate.” His head tilted to indicate all of me. Just as I started to feel slightly uncomfortable, he added, “I’ve meant to tell you something, it’s just I’ve always felt a bit awkward about it. But, I wanted to say that I’m happy for you. I really am. I’m glad everything worked out with Nick. It was obvious you were never over him.”
My smile stayed in place. I felt his authenticity and I respected it. “Thank you, Eli. I appreciate that.”
“Good luck with the baby,” he added. “You’ll be a great mom.”
He stood up and strode from the room before I could say anything else. But I found that I didn’t really have anything else to say. It was nice to have that chapter closed, but it hadn’t been necessary.
I did hope the best for him, though. I hoped he could one day move on from his own heartbreak and find someone else. I hoped he could find someone that fit him, that loved him as much as he deserved.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. Nick was here. I texted to tell him to meet me in my classroom, then gathered the last papers from my mailbox.
I walked back to my room slowly, savoring the smell of metal lockers and floor polish. There was a mustiness that clung to the building that usually made me wrinkle my nose. But now I realized it smelled like school to me. This was how I would always define Hamilton.
And I knew I would miss it.
I had been here for nine years, just a little longer than I had been married. Unlike my marriage, though, it was time to close this door. It was time to move on.
For now.
I thought about Jay Allen and knew I would eventually be back. I couldn’t give this up forever. But for now, it was the right thing to do for my family.
I smiled to myself. God, it felt good to say that.
Nick and I had made so much progress over the last three months. Not because we were forcing it because of the baby, but because we both wanted progress. We both wanted to heal and create a safe, comfortable home for our little one.
We both wanted each other and this marriage and real, authentic happiness.
And finally, after everything that had happened, we had it.
In April, we had celebrated our eighth wedding anniversary. We had gone out to a nice dinner and shared a bottle of champagne at home. We had never been happier. Never more content to make something work. Never shared life that was so beautiful.
Two days later we found out I was pregnant.
Nobody had been more surprised than us when we found out about the baby. But nobody had been more overjoyed either.
We were seeing a counselor too. We wanted to heal from our past and move forward with the tools we needed to succeed. I taught my students that knowledge was power. Not because you could rule with it, but because it prepared you for the future and equipped you for whatever was to come.
I had taken that advice to heart and applied it to our marriage. We were growing closer and closer together every day, but there was still a lot of work to be done and neither Nick nor I knew what the future would hold.
We wanted to be prepared.
We wanted to be ready to stand side by side and face whatever the world threw at us together.
Sometimes I wondered if I fell in love with him for all the wrong reasons. But I also knew I had wanted to leave him for all the wrong reasons too.
The only thing that mattered now though was that I wanted to stay with him for the right reasons.
That we used those reasons to choose to love each other and choose to stay together no matter what obstacles we faced.
I loved him.
I would always choose to love him.
And he would do the same for me.
“What are you smiling about?” His voice drifted in from the doorway, where he leaned against the frame watching me.
“You,” I told him honestly. “Us.”
He walked toward me, a slow, prowling gait that gave me butterflies in all the right places. “Those are good things to smile about.” He reached me, swooping down to kiss my hands that rested on my belly. When he stood up again, his eyes shimmered with adoration, “That’s a good thing to smile about too.”
I leaned into him and wrapped my arms around his waist. His hands held me to him, one of them rubbing a soothing pattern over my back.
“Are you going to miss this place?” he asked gently.
I nodded against his chest. “Yes, eventually. But I’m going to love staying home too. At least for a little while.”
“I’m going to love you staying home too,” he chuckled. “You can make me lunch every day and iron my clothes.”
I pinched his nipple and made him yelp. “You can make your own lunch,” I scolded. “I will iron your clothes, though. It’s cheaper that way.”
He let out a bark of laughter. “It’s true. I get tired of buying new shirts every time I ruin one.”
“You’re a smart man, Nicholas. I don’t know why you can’t figure out an iron.”
I felt his smile when he pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “It’s just one of the many reasons I need you, Katie. Don’t ever leave me.”
I lifted my face to meet his gaze. “Never,” I promised.
He squeezed me tighter to him. “I love you.”
His words were powerful. So powerful I felt them in my very core, in the very heart of me. I felt them as something permanent and lasting. I felt them as an oath, an unerring truth… as the conviction I lived my life with.
He was my husband.
He loved me.
He would always love me.
That was reason enough for me to love him back.
“I love you too.”
He kissed me slowly, lazily and so not appropriate for school. Then he helped me pack up nine years of teaching and we drove home to start the next chapter of our lives.
Together.
Look for Rachel’s next contemporary romance, The Opposite of You, coming January 26, 2016!
Acknowledgments
To God. For creative words, thoughtful moments and messy females. For loving the broken ones.
And to Zach. You are the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. I respect you. And I surrender. Every single day.
Mom, for the example you set. For being the wife that you were. For being the mom, the grandmother and the friend that you will always be.
To Carolyn, thank you for your endless work. Thank you for being unfathomably strong. For editing through cancer. For not hating me for asking you to. You are my hero.
To Caedus Design Co., you did more than create a cover. You molded a story. Thank you for always knowing what I need.
To Candice, Leigh, Miriah and Lenore. You girls. Seriously. You girls. I love you more than words. I love you more than confusing plot points and missing moments and all of the things that you catch and share and give. And on top of everything you are so careful with me. Me, the fragile, insecure artist. You are champions in my corner and I am so blessed to have you in my life. Thank you for your honesty. But most of all, thank you for believing in characters that are underdeveloped and words that ar
e wrong, misplaced and grammatically incorrect. You believe in my stories before they’re anything. And you fall in love with characters before they are what they’re supposed to be. Thank you.
To my peers and my friends, Samantha Young, Shelly Crane, Lila Felix, Amy Bartol, Georgia Cates, and Heather Lyons, thank you for being people I can count on. Thank you for understanding my fears and insecurities. For listening to me while I talk about them. For believing in me. And for supporting me. You ladies are the very best that there is. I would be nothing but a hunchback hermit without you.
To Mark My Words Book Publicity, thank you for being the best. Thank you for believing in me enough to work hard for me. Thank you for being so incredibly cool.
Rachel Marks, my agent, you are awesome. I am so lucky to know you and work with you. Thank you for putting in all of these hours and phone calls and emails. Thank you for wanting the best for me.
To my Rebel Panel. I started a group to support my career, but instead I found support for my life. I could never have predicted the kind of community we’ve formed together. But I am constantly thankful for it. And for all of you. Thank you for always being there to answer my quirky questions and for loving me even when I disappear for way too long. Thank you for loving these words and these characters and for treating them like they are your own. I love each of you.
Reckless Rebels. Girls. You are the very best of the best. Thank you so much for treating me like a rock star and always showing up when I need you. Thank you for just being there and listening to me and encouraging me. You humble me. And you make me so endlessly grateful. Thank you so much.
And now, thank you dear Readers. Thank you for taking this journey with me. Thank you for spending your time with my words. That is the greatest gift you could ever give me and I am so, beyond blessed that you chose this book to read. You have changed my life. And with every single download of something I’ve written, you continue to change it. And me. And I can never thank you enough for that.
About the Author
Rachel Higginson was born and raised in Nebraska, but spent her college years traveling the world. She fell in love with Eastern Europe, Paris, Indian Food and the beautiful beaches of Sri Lanka, but came back home to marry her high school sweetheart. Now she spends her days raising their growing family. She is obsessed with bad reality TV and any and all Young Adult Fiction.
Please look for Rachel’s next contemporary romance, The Opposite of You, coming January 26th, 2016.
Other Books Out Now by Rachel Higginson:
Love and Decay, Season One
Love and Decay, Volume One (Episodes One-Six, Season One)
Love and Decay, Volume Two (Episodes Seven-Twelve, Season One)
Love and Decay, Season Two
Love and Decay, Volume Three (Episodes One-Four, Season Two)
Love and Decay, Volume Four (Episodes Five-Eight, Season Two)
Love and Decay, Volume Five (Episodes Nine-Twelve, Season Two)
Love and Decay, Season Three
Love and Decay, Volume Six (Episodes One-Four, Season Three)
Love and Decay, Volume Seven (Episodes Five-Eight, Season Three)
Love and Decay, Volume Eight (Episodes Nine-Twelve, Season Three)
Reckless Magic (The Star-Crossed Series, Book 1)
Hopeless Magic (The Star-Crossed Series, Book 2)
Fearless Magic (The Star-Crossed Series, Book 3)
Endless Magic (The Star-Crossed Series, Book 4)
The Reluctant King (The Star-Crossed Series, Book 5)
The Relentless Warrior (The Star-Crossed Series, Book 6)
Breathless Magic (The Star-Crossed Series, Book 6.5)
Fateful Magic (The Star-Crossed Series, Book 6.75)
The Redeemable Prince (The Star-Crossed Series, Book 7)
Heir of Skies (The Starbright Series, Book 1)
Heir of Darkness (The Starbright Series, Book 2)
Heir of Secrets (The Starbright Series, Book 3)
The Rush (The Siren Series, Book 1)
The Fall (The Siren Series, Book 2)
The Heart (The Siren Series, Book 3)
Bet on Us (An NA Contemporary Romance)
Bet on Me (An NA Contemporary Romance) coming fall 2016
The Opposite of You coming January 2016
Connect with Rachel on her blog at:
http://www.rachelhigginson.com/
Or on Twitter:
@mywritesdntbite
Or on her Facebook page:
Rachel Higginson
Keep reading for an excerpt from The Five Stages of Falling in Love, a second chance adult contemporary romance and after that, please enjoy a preview of Rachel’s zombie novella series, Love and Decay.
Please enjoy a preview of Rachel’s second chance romance, The Five Stages of Falling in Love.
Prologue
“Hey, there she is,” Grady looked up at me from his bed, his eyes smiling even while his mouth barely mimicked the emotion.
“Hey, you,” I called back. The lights had been dimmed after the last nurse checked his vitals and the TV was on, but muted. “Where are the kiddos? I was only in the cafeteria for ten minutes.”
Grady winked at me playfully, “My mother took them.” I melted a little at his roguish expression. It was the same look that made me agree to a date with him our junior year of college, it was the same look that made me fall in love with him- the same one that made me agree to have our second baby boy when I would have been just fine to stop after Blake, Abby and Lucy.
“Oh, yeah?” I walked over to the hospital bed and sat down next to him. He immediately reached for me, pulling me against him with weak arms. I snuggled back into his chest, so that my head rested on his thin shoulder and our bodies fit side by side on the narrow bed. One of my legs didn’t make it and hung off awkwardly. But I didn’t mind. It was just perfect to lie next to the love of my life, my husband.
“Oh, yeah,” he growled suggestively. “You know what that means?” He walked his free hand up my arm and gave my breast a wicked squeeze. “When the kids are away, the grownups get to play…”
“You are so bad,” I swatted him- or at least made the motion of swatting at him, since I was too afraid to hurt him.
“God, I don’t remember the last time I got laid,” he groaned next to me and I felt the rumble of his words against my side.
“Tell me about it, sport,” I sighed. “I could use a nice, hard-”
“Elizabeth Carlson,” he cut in on a surprised laugh. “When did you get such a dirty mouth?”
“I think you’ve known about my dirty mouth for quite some time, Grady,” I flirted back. We’d been serious for so long it was nice to flirt with him, to remember that we didn’t just love each other, but we liked each other too.
He grunted in satisfaction. “That I have. I think your dirty mouth had something to do with Lucy’s conception.”
I blushed. Even after all these years, he knew exactly what to say to me. “Maybe,” I conceded.
“Probably,” he chuckled, his breath hot on my ear.
We lay there in silence for a while, enjoying the feel of each other, watching the silent TV screen flicker in front of our eyes. It was perfect- or as close to perfect as we had felt in a long time.
“Dance with me, Lizzy,” Grady whispered after a while. I’d thought maybe he fell asleep; the drugs were so hard on his system that he was usually in and out of consciousness. This was actually the most coherent he’d been in a month.
“Okay,” I agreed. “It’s the first thing we’ll do when you get out. We’ll have your mom come over and babysit, you can take me to dinner at Pazio’s and we’ll go dancing after.”
“Mmm, that sounds nice,” he agreed. “You love Pazio’s. That’s a guaranteed get-lucky night for me.”
“Baby,” I crooned. “As soon as I get you back home, you’re going to have guaranteed get-lucky nights for at least a month, maybe two.”
“I don’t want to wait. I’m
tired of waiting. Dance with me now, Lizzy,” Grady pressed, this time sounding serious.
“Babe, after your treatment this morning, you can barely stand up right now. Honestly, how are you going to put all those sweet moves on me?” I wondered where this sudden urge to dance, of all things, was coming from.
“Lizzy, I am a sick man. I haven’t slept in my own bed in four months, I haven’t seen my wife naked in just as long, and I am tired of lying in this bed. I want to dance with you. Will you please, pretty please, dance with me?”
I nodded at first because I was incapable of speech. He was right. I hated that he was right, but I hated that he was sick even more.
“Alright, Grady, I’ll dance with you,” I finally whispered.
“I knew I’d get my way,” he croaked smugly.
I slipped off the bed and turned around to face my husband and help him to his feet. His once full head of auburn hair was now bald, reflecting the pallid color of his skin. His face was haggard showing dark black circles under his eyes, chapped lips and pale cheeks. He was still as tall as he’d ever been, but instead of the toned muscles and thick frame he once boasted, he was depressingly skinny and weak, his shoulders perpetually slumped.
The only thing that remained the same were his eyes; they were the same dark green eyes I’d fallen in love with ten years ago. They were still full of life, still full of mischief even when his body wasn’t. They held life while the rest of him drowned in exhaustion from fighting this stupid sickness.
“You always get your way,” I grumbled while I helped him up from the bed.
“Only with you,” he shot back on a pant after successfully standing. “And only because you love me.”
Every Wrong Reason Page 28
