Sweet Karma

by Amara Kent

  Taylor gasps and throws her hand to her mouth. Understanding is written all over her face, but she has no idea.

  “It hit me hard. I had not only lost the mother of my child, I lost my fiancée and my best friend. We were high school sweethearts. When she died, I turned to the bottle, couldn’t deal with fatherhood and wanted nothing to do with anyone or my baby. I couldn’t care for her, and not because she was a constant reminder of the woman I lost, but because I was so caught up in what I was going through, that I neglected to be there for someone who needed me more than ever. I drank myself into a stupor, and if it wasn’t for my mother taking my daughter away from me to go live with her… Seeing the look of unfamiliarity on my daughters face, and the look of disappointment on my mothers, finally turned me around. I would’ve have no relationship with either of them. Seeing her face struck me in the heart. She had no idea who I was. There was no love there, because she didn’t know me. I never tried to get to know her, and it was just my mother who was taking care of my child, when it should have been me.”

  Taylor stands up and hugs me, squeezing me a little in understanding. Our situations are vastly different, and I don’t know what she’s going through, but I wanted her to know why I reacted the way I did.

  “I changed after that. I sobered up and got my act together. I started focusing on my daughter and my business that I had started to get off the ground. Every day I’m thankful for what my mother did to me. I never forget Chloe’s mother. Never have and never will. I will always love her, because of Chloe.”

  “I’m sorry for what I put you through. I started having feelings for you. I denied it and told myself that you were just another asshole, reminding me that you did exactly what I had experienced. I should have torn up the contract. I’m sorry I hurt you. So terribly sorry.”

  I wrap my arms around her and squeeze her tightly. “Don’t apologize. Do you think you could ever forgive me?” I ask softly.

  “Yes. I never even blamed you for the way you felt, which is not like me.” She lets out a short burst of laughter. “I guess that’s how much you affected me.”

  “Do you think you could give me a second chance?”

  There’s a pause, and it’s the longest one I think I’ll ever hear.

  “Yes, but I don’t want there to be any secrets between us. Which is why you should know why I started the business.” She pulls away from me and sits down again. Hugging herself.

  “You don—”

  She holds her hand up to stop me. “No, I do. Complete transparency between us. I’ve never been lucky with relationships. Every single one of them ended badly. Nearly ten years ago, Vi and I lost our parents in a car accident. We were going to this park I loved when it started snowing. It was my Christmas wish. Well, we went and on the way back home, another driver was speeding along the ice and clipped us. My dad lost control of the car and it flipped. They died instantly, but Vi and I were rushed to the hospital. We broke a few bones and had scratches, but we were alive. I blame myself every day for their death. It’s why I hate Christmas. It’s why I haven’t visited my parents’ graves since. I feel too guilty.”

  “Their deaths are not your fault.” I kneel down and console her.

  She gives me a small smile. “I know.” She pats my shoulder. “I met Cameron when I needed someone the most. He made me feel better and soon we were boyfriend and girlfriend. Three years later he proposed to me, however we didn’t want to get married right away. I didn’t think it would be fair to have his parents put in for some of the costs when I had no parents who could do the same. So we decided that we would save, and pay for the wedding ourselves. Well, that same year I became pregnant. We were ecstatic. I couldn’t believe it. Everything had gone well. There were no complications, until the seventh month.” She stops and her lip quivers. I pull her into me and she lets me. We remain like that for a few minutes, before she continues. “The baby had died in my womb, and I had to deliver him. I gave birth to a stillborn. It was hard on our relationship, and I felt guilty all over again. I hated that it was because of me another life was taken. I couldn’t handle it and I withdrew into myself. It took a while for me to be able to get out of the house and start living my life. I had finally started to get better and then I found Cameron in our bed, having sex with my best friend. He told me it was because I was so focused on the death of the baby, that he felt he didn’t exist anymore. I was angry. There was an ire that burned so deep in my soul. Someone gave me the opportunity to get back at him so I took it. I just knew I wanted to repay the favor. After so many failed relationships and being screwed over by guys, something had finally snapped in me.”

  It all made sense, and for some reason I no longer felt the small part of me that was still angry at what she had done to me. It wasn’t good, but I understood and appreciated why she had chosen the path she had. Sometimes, we are driven to do things we never would have dreamed of doing were it not for external circumstances.

  “I know my words mean nothing to you, but I promise I won’t hurt you intentionally. I can’t promise I won’t hurt you, because no doubt at some point I will and not mean to. But can we maybe try again?”

  “I think I can. I want to take things slow though, and I’m still moving.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to come back and work for me?” I joke.

  A light chuckle is her only response.

  “That’s fine. I will do whatever is necessary to prove that I won’t ever make you cry, unless it’s happy tears.”

  “Good, because I’ve had enough sad ones to last me a lifetime.”

  I feel awkward. I’ve never done this before. This is the first time I’ve visited their graves, and there’s a strong sense of guilt and unease. I know they would have understood. Our parents were always good like that. They never judged or got angry at us for feeling a certain way, but it doesn’t change things. My mother always loved lavender. Everything she owned had a lavender scent to it. Dusting powder, moisturizer, room spray. My father, well… he loved violets. It’s how my sister got her name. My nan used to grow them in her garden, so he was always surrounded by them. I place the two bunches of lavender and violets I purchased from the local florist down onto their graves and sit on the ground next to their headstones.

  I hadn’t wanted to do this but Violet told me that it was good for me. That I needed this closure and connection to our parents. She takes a seat down next to me, remaining quiet. She tried to urge me to do this on my own, but I just couldn’t do it. How could I? I had kept myself from visiting them the day we buried them. I couldn’t push past how it had been my fault they had passed away. That feeling would never go away. There are still moments when I wished it had been me that had died in that car accident, but I recognize that this is the first step toward my emotional recovery. Well, I recognize what people have been telling me is the first step. I’m not sure that it will be.

  “Hey, Mom… Dad. Sorry, I haven’t been around much, and sorry I did this to us. I broke us up, all because of what I had wanted. People keep telling me it’s not my fault, that I couldn’t have possibly known what would have happened; I can’t help but feel that were it not for me, you two would still be together.” I sigh, and I feel Violet’s hand on my shoulder. I give her a tight smile. “Things have been difficult since you left. I fell for and became engaged to a man I thought loved me. I got pregnant, but I lost the baby. Me and Cameron—that’s the guy I was engaged to—fell on hard times emotionally, and I didn’t want to be around anyone. I wish you had been there for me.” The tears flow freely down my face as I recall my life post my loving parents. How it felt to feel all alone. I had Violet and she was amazing, but I needed my fiancé. I needed him to feel with me and help me. I needed us to help each other get through it all together because he was the only person who understood what I was going through.

  I wipe the tears from my face and sniffle; standing up and dusting myself off.

  “How do you feel?” Violet asks.
/>
  I nod and smile. “I actually feel good. Being able to voice everything actually helps. Thank you so much for helping me through this.” I hug Violet tightly.

  We stay like this for a few moments, taking the time to come together as sisters. We are close and always have been, but we have never been like this before, not even when our parents died. I was a horrible sister to her. She was grieving as much as I was, and all I could think about was myself. She was the one that helped pull me out of my misery and depression.

  She taps me on the back. “Okay, sis. We better get going. Toby will kill me if we don’t get back soon, he’s so excited to have you over for Christmas Day lunch.”

  I laugh. It’s the first real genuine one I’ve done for a long time, and it feels good to not be this person anymore. The person that is vindictive and scornful and a liar. “Yes, we should. Little man is a cutie and all, but I don’t want to be hit with his wrath.”

  “What should I wear?” I freak out. It’s been a long time since I’ve had to meet the family of the guy I’m dating. My stomach is going crazy with nerves and I almost want to throw up from it all.

  “There is no need to freak out, Tay. What you are wearing is perfectly suitable,” Vi states while lying on my bed. She prepared a feast, and while they’re nursing their food babies, I’m pacing back and forth in her room, trying to figure out what to wear. I’m not the slightest bit prepared and in a flurry of anxiety, I just grabbed a handful of clothes and drove over here, telling myself that Future Taylor would handle my outfit for this evening.

  Tonight, I am spending with Dean and his family, which includes his daughter, Chloe. We’ve spoken a couple of times on the phone, but I had yet to meet her. I am so scared. What if she doen’t like me? What if I don’t know what to say? A lot is riding on us liking each other.

  “Are you kidding me?” I screech. “You’re lucky. You didn’t have a kid to worry about when you met Chris’s parents. I do.” I jab at myself.

  “You are great with kids, stop stressing.” She gets up off the bed and reaches for my black jeans and cream sweater, handing it over to me. “Here. Where these.”

  I look at them and release a relieved sigh. “Thank you so much!” I grab them off of her, leaving her chuckling behind me as I rush and slam the door of her master bathroom.

  Two minutes later and I’m standing back out in her bedroom. She gives me a nod and walks up to me, pulling me into a hug.

  “Merry Christmas, Taylor. This is the best one I’ve ever had. Mom and Dad would be so proud of you. Now go on. Go to that sexy man of yours.”

  With a quick kiss on the cheek and a goodbye to Toby and Chris, I hop in my car and make the forty-five minute drive to Dean’s house, just outside of Manhattan. The snow falls lightly on the car, creating a beautiful blanket of white as I drive along. It’s night by the time I reach his place in the country, and I kill the engine. It’s exactly like the houses you see in all those Christmas movies. There is no clue of his wealth in this house.

  I get out of the car and walk up the path to his front entrance. As if he’s been waiting by the door for me, he opens it with a big smile on his face.

  “Hello, beautiful,” he greets me with a hug and a light kiss on the lips.

  “Ooh, Daddy is kissing you!” A little girl giggles.

  He chuckles and turns around to face the little girl that is all smiles in the archway of the living room. Crouching down low, he pounces and grabs her up into his arms. She laughs as he spins her around and then sets her on the ground in front of me.

  “Chloe, sweetie, this is Taylor. Taylor, this is my daughter, Chloe,” Dean introduces us to each other.

  “I know, Daaaad,” Chloe says sarcastically, and I don’t stop the laugh that erupts from me. “She’s your giiiiirlfriend,” she teases.

  Dean frowns. “How did you know?”

  “I’m not dumb, Dad!” She steps up to me and holds out her hand. I bend down a little and take hers in mine. “Hi, Taylor, it’s very nice to meet you.”

  “It’s very nice to meet you too, Chloe.”

  Amara Kent is a crazy gal all the way from Down Under, residing in the small city of Wollongong (or the Gong, as locals call it), Australia. She has loved reading ever since she can remember and constantly likes to transport herself to different worlds. She has a mouth like a sailor, and a mind that has taken comfortable residence in the gutter. When she’s not being inappropriate, reading or writing, she’s hanging out with friends or binging on the best shows Netflix has to offer. As a massive fan of romance, horror, fantasy and paranormal, she doesn’t want to limit herself to one genre and therefore writes in all these styles.

  You can reach Amara at the following sites.

  Facebook Reader Group:

  Amara’s Feisty Felines - Amara Kent Readers Group

  Website

  https://amarakent.weebly.com/

  Also, if you would like to get all the juicy details about any future releases, any potential giveaways, sneak peak snippets and some awesome extra stuff, then sign up to my newsletter! =oD

  Amara Kent’s Newsletter

  Taylor Swift - Are You Ready For It?

  Marina - Karma

  Ariana Grande - Bloodline

  Kim Petras - Do Me

  BLACKPINK - Kill This Love

  Selena Gomez - Look At Her Now

  Jaira Burns - Low Key In Love

  Checkout the Playlist on Spotify!

  Fantasy

  Hellfire Saga

  Raising Demons

  Contemporary Romance

  Complicated Love Series

  UGLY