Choosing Fate: A Love in Eden Novella

by Sloane Kennedy

There was something in the way that she said the words that was off, but I didn't comment on it. Instead I said, "Do you want some help?"

  I expected her to say no, to tell me to go back inside and go back to bed, or maybe even to hint that it was time for me to go. So I was surprised when she nodded and handed me the spade she'd been using to dig up the weeds.

  "I've never actually done this," I admitted.

  She smiled at that and then leaned in and took my hands to show me how to use the spade. We worked in silence for several minutes, the only conversation occurring when I needed to know what was a weed and what was a flower. I spent more time studying her than paying attention to what I was doing. She seemed more relaxed, but there was still a certain amount of desperation to her movements.

  "Did you do all this?" I asked when I motioned to the expansive flowerbeds that took up a good chunk of the backyard.

  "Yeah. My mom always thought it was a waste, but Jackson liked it, and Cameron loves to help me plant bulbs and stuff. I think it's just digging in the dirt that he likes so much, but I'll take it. I can’t offer him horses and fishing, but giving him a reason to get dirty on purpose gives me cool points, I guess."

  "Why does your mom think the flowers are a waste?" I asked.

  She was quiet for so long that I didn't expect her to answer. When she did, she kept her eyes on her work, which spoke volumes in itself. "She always thought the flowers didn't serve any purpose except to take me away from what I should've been doing."

  "And what was that?"

  "Being a wife and mother. Keeping a clean house, getting dinner on the table for my husband, taking care of my child." There was such sadness in her voice that I wanted to reach over and touch her. But at the same time, I wanted her to keep talking. We might've already become experts in each other's bodies, but I knew next to nothing about Jolene. That was the way hookups were supposed to go, but I'd already accepted that this wasn't the typical hookup. I just wasn’t allowing myself to think about what it actually was.

  "One of those," I observed. I saw her glance at me, so I added, "Stuck in time."

  Jolene hesitated a moment, then nodded. She turned her attention back to weeding. "I wouldn't give them up," she said as she motioned with her chin to the flowers in front of her. "They were the only thing that kept me going for the longest time."

  "What do you mean?"

  When she didn't answer, I paused and looked at her. She'd stopped moving and was staring at one of the flowers in front of her. Then her eyes shifted to a weed in her hand. I really wanted to know what was going on in her head, but I was also reluctant to interrupt whatever inner battle she was dealing with. So I waited quietly. When she did speak, her voice was low and soft. "Was last night real, Zander?"

  I'd never been a huge fan of the "where is this going" conversation, especially after a hookup that was very clearly just that. But she wasn't really asking that and even if she had been, my response to her would've been different than it’d been to the other women I'd been with.

  "Yes," I responded. "It was real and it was fucking amazing, Joli."

  Her eyes shifted to me and I could see the pain there. "He never touched me like you do. I just thought it was always like that, you know? I thought I was being selfish to want anything more. Jackson practically begged me to marry him when we were kids… I wasn't even old enough to get married when he asked me. My parents had to give permission."

  "How old were you?"

  "Seventeen. I was a married woman before I even graduated from high school."

  "Why would your parents allow that?"

  "Jackson came from a good family. His father was the town's minister. He was a very respected man and my parents knew I probably wouldn't be able to do any better."

  "Do what any better?" I asked.

  Jolene went back to digging up weeds. "Find a better husband."

  Her words were nearly emotionless. I was outraged by the idea that her parents’ only goal for their daughter had been to marry her off. Even twenty-some years earlier when she would've been a teenager, much of society had gotten past the bullshit about a woman needing to be a wife and mother rather than have her own career.

  "What did you want?" I asked.

  She didn't answer, which was answer enough. Even if there’d been something she’d wanted, she’d accepted her parents’ goals for her.

  "I was lucky, Zander. Jackson was… is a really good man. He took care of me. He gave me Cameron. I was happy to be his wife."

  I couldn't stop myself from snagging Jolene's arm to stop her. She sounded like a Stepford Wife and it was driving me crazy. "You're allowed to be angry with him, Joli. I don't know what happened between you, but something must have because you're no longer together—"

  Jolene pulled her arm from my hold. Her face was flushed with color and I could see the emotion in her eyes as she snapped, "It was my fault! I was the one who asked for the divorce. Jackson tried really hard—"

  "I don't believe you," I interjected.

  Jolene stilled and then she said, "I think you should go."

  The comment wasn't really a surprise. I had stepped over an invisible line, but I wasn't really sorry. And I wasn't going anywhere. "It takes two people to make a relationship work, Joli. I don't know if your ex deserves your loyalty, but stop trying to sell me the shit about it being your fault. Tell me why you asked for the divorce."

  Her anger seemed to die down as quickly as it had flared up. "He was suffocating," she whispered. Her eyes actually filled with tears and I saw her trying to blink them away. "He always said he was happy with me, but he wouldn't touch me. He wouldn't talk to me. Sometimes I’d go to the ranch to bring him some lunch and I’d see him working with the other hands or the horses or whatever, and he was just so… alive. He laughed, he smiled. Then he’d come home and there was this sadness around him." Jolene lifted her eyes to mine. "I tried so hard to be perfect for him, Zander. I tried to be a wife he could be proud of. But it was just like… it was just like when I was a kid and nothing I ever did was good enough. My parents, they always looked at me with this… this disappointment. I couldn't bear the thought of Jackson looking at me like that one day."

  I got to my feet and then reached down to pull her up. I put my hands on her upper arms and said, "Joli, I've known you less than twenty-four hours and I can already see what an amazing woman you are. If Jackson didn't light up every time you walked into the room, that's on him, not you. If Jackson wasn't spending every minute of every day waiting to get back to you, that's on him. If he didn't thank the heavens above every time you touched him or looked his way or even just said his name, that's on him. He had an obligation to you to tell you if he wasn't happy. I get that he's a good father and a good man, but if he made you feel like you were the one who needed to change, then he wasn't a good husband and I can honestly say I'm glad you got out. I've seen way too many men and women who twist themselves into something they're not just to try to please their partner. All that twisting, all those knots that get created inside, eventually it becomes too much and something has to give."

  Jolene didn't respond at first, so I was certain my words had fallen on deaf ears, but then I saw her nod the tiniest of nods. I grabbed onto that because it was something, at least. I put my hand around the back of her neck and pulled her forward, murmuring, "Come here." She didn't hesitate to step forward into my embrace. Her arms were tight around me. "How about we go in and get cleaned up?" I suggested because I could feel her shaking. It wasn't super cold out, but if she’d been out there for a while, she definitely would've felt chilled.

  I felt another tiny nod against my shoulder. I reached down and linked my fingers with her and then led her to the house. She was silent as I took her to the bathroom that was attached to her bedroom. She didn't protest my removing her clothes after I got the shower going. Her eyes looked blank and her moves were stiff as I helped her into the shower and under the warm spray of water. I quickly took off my own clo
thes and got in behind her. It wasn't until I began using a soapy washcloth to clean her that she broke.

  Really broke.

  A harsh sob tore free of her throat and it was quickly followed by another.

  And another.

  Her hands went up to cover her face as she cried. I dropped the washcloth and turned her so I could pull her into my arms. I suspected she was crying for a lot of things in her life, most of which I probably had no clue about. But at the moment, I didn't care. All that mattered was that some of those knots inside her were beginning to work free.

  I just hoped they stayed that way.

  Chapter 8

  Jolene

  "Go out on a date with me."

  I was panting so hard that I wasn't sure I heard the words correctly. Zander was still buried deep inside me and my body was reflexively squeezing his cock as aftershocks jolted through me. He was breathing just as hard, so I wondered how he'd even found enough oxygen in his lungs to make any kind of conversation.

  "What?" I asked.

  "Go out on a date with me," he said again. It wasn't a command but rather a question without being an actual question. His voice was light and encouraging, but I was certain I heard a little bit of uncertainty too. I wondered if it was because he wasn’t sure about my answer or if he questioned whether asking me out on a date was a good idea. After all, we were still just hooking up.

  Hookups could last thirty-six hours straight, right?

  After my meltdown in the shower, Zander had cleaned me up and gotten me back into bed and just held me. We hadn't talked anymore, which I’d been glad about because my mind had been spinning. I no longer had any doubts that Zander enjoyed having sex with me and that whatever I was doing in bed pleased him. I'd always assumed that because Jackson hadn't enjoyed making love to me that it was something I'd been doing wrong. But Zander was proof that it hadn't only been about me.

  I’d given a lot of thought to his comment about it needing to be two people to make a relationship work. Jackson had tried in some ways, but in other ways he hadn't. I'd spent so many years blaming myself for not being able to live up to the standards that had been set for me, first by my parents and then by the institution of marriage itself, that it was hard to accept that maybe I hadn't done everything wrong.

  I'd been working hard to remind myself over and over that this thing with Zander was just about sex, but the question he’d just asked me blew all of that out of the water.

  "Why?" I blurted before I could think better of it.

  Zander seemed taken aback a moment, so I was quick to add, "I mean, we’re already here. In bed. We've, you know, a lot. You don't need to take me out to, you know, some more."

  The smile that spread across Zander's face warmed my insides. "As much as I love ‘you knowing’ with you," he said with a grin, "I'd also like to spend some time with you outside of this bed. And as much as I love watching you play in the dirt, I think we should get out of here for a bit."

  "Um, okay," I managed to say. All the nerves that had plagued me the first time we’d made love came roaring back. My date with Ted had been a disaster, but I reminded myself that Zander wasn't like that. But what if he found my company boring? What if I said stupid things?

  "Good, go get dressed. I'll meet you back here in an hour."

  "You're leaving?" I asked.

  Zander gave me a quick kiss and said, "Yeah, I've got a date with a beautiful woman." He rolled out of bed and reached for his clothes. I sat up and just enjoyed watching him get dressed. I loved the way his body moved, and I couldn't help but shiver when I thought about the many times he'd been inside of me. Even though I was a little sore, I still wanted him more than ever.

  It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him to come back to bed, but then he looked over his shoulder at me and gave me a little smile. He stood up and pulled his jeans over his yummy backside and then zipped the pants up. He leaned across the bed and kissed me again. "An hour," he reminded me and then he was gone.

  I sat there for several long seconds as a rush of fear went through me. What if that had been it? What if that had been the brush-off and he wasn't really coming back? I needed to be okay with that, but truth was, I wasn't.

  Not at all.

  As I reluctantly got out of bed, I reminded myself that Zander was just passing through town. I didn't even know where exactly he was headed to. But Eden wasn't his home. So I could either enjoy the moments I had with him, both in and out of bed, or I could end this before I got in too deep.

  "Who am I kidding?" I said softly to myself. I was already in way too deep. The thought was reinforced when I reached the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked like a very well-loved woman. My mother would've been horrified by my appearance. My skin was flushed with color, my hair was all over the place, and there were small patches of beard burn all over my body. I couldn't help but smile as I admired the marks. Zander had truly loved on every part of my body.

  With renewed fervor, I quickly got ready. I spent most of the hour trying to figure out what to wear. My mother had picked out the fancy white dress for my date with Ted and she’d brought me several others just like it, but when I held them in front of a mirror, they all just looked wrong. But maybe Zander liked a woman who dressed fancy and wore makeup for a night on the town. I started pulling on one of the dresses, but as soon as the itchy fabric touched my sensitive skin, I stopped what I was doing.

  Zander had said I was amazing the way I was. There'd been no reason for him to lie.

  Decision made, I tossed the dress aside and went in search of my favorite floral-patterned, knee-length dress. I paired it with a small cardigan. I opted for just a hint of makeup on my eyes and some concealer for the cut on my cheek that Ted's ring had caused. I left my hair loose because Zander seemed to enjoy running his fingers through it. By the time I was finished, self-doubt started to creep in, but I clung to Zander's comments about me not needing to have changed so much in my marriage to Jackson. The ringing doorbell saved me from having to obsess too much about everything. I hurried downstairs and opened the door. My heart dropped out at the sight of Zander.

  "You came back," I blurted unthinkingly. He was wearing a pair of clean jeans and a dark blue button-down shirt. There was a bouquet of daisies in his hand.

  I saw something flash in his eyes at my comment, but instead of calling me out on it, he stepped forward and wrapped his arm around me. Then he was kissing me right there in the doorway. I forgot to care about any neighbors watching and just kissed him back.

  "You ready? You look beautiful, by the way," he said as he looked me up and down. Since he’d pretty much kissed me stupid, all I could do was nod and then run back into the house to grab my purse. When I reached the door, he was still waiting. "These are you for you," he said with a grin.

  "Darn it," I said impatiently because I’d completely forgotten about the flowers in my eagerness to start our date. "I mean thank you, they’re beautiful."

  Zander laughed, so I knew I hadn't offended him. I quickly hurried back into the house and put the daisies in some water, then rushed back to the door. Zander held his hand out to me and walked me down the walkway to his car. He opened the door, which reminded me it really was a real date.

  Since there weren't a lot of eating establishments in Eden besides a rowdy saloon and the diner I worked at, Zander took me to the next town over. It was the same town Ted had taken me to for our date, but I was beyond glad when Zander drove past the fancy restaurant where I’d felt completely out of place and instead pulled into a small family-style restaurant that I'd heard had great food and service. I didn't miss the eyes that followed us as we were shown to our table. I recognized several people, and quickly tore my eyes from theirs. If Zander noticed the looks we were getting, he didn't show it.

  Once we were seated, I felt jittery and tense, though I wasn't really sure why. I hadn't felt that way with Ted on our dates… I'd mostly just been bored and wishing I was home. Bu
t being here with Zander felt so much more real and important—it almost felt like some kind of test. On the one hand, I didn't want to fail it, but on the other, I couldn't stop thinking about how Zander and I seemed to be the focus of many conversations in the small dining room.

  It wasn't until I felt Zander's foot brush mine beneath the table and settle next to it that I reminded myself that I wasn't doing anything wrong. Just because Zander didn’t look like the traditional Eden resident didn't mean I wasn't allowed to be seen with him. I was here to enjoy his company, not feed into Eden’s rampant gossip mill.

  Once we'd given the waitress our orders, Zander leaned on the table so there was less distance between us. "So how many people do you know here?" he asked gently.

  "A few," I said.

  "Do you want to stay?"

  Somehow that question changed everything for me. The idea that this man who'd been nothing but kind to me was willing to change our plans for the evening on my behalf just so I wouldn't be uncomfortable was like a light being shone on the past thirty-something years of my life. How many times had I made decisions based on what others wanted or expected of me?

  Too many.

  So what if Zander didn't look the part of the proper date with his tattoos and beard and bad-boy appearance? Ted had supposedly been the perfect date with his money and his fancy pickup truck, but how many of the residents of Eden would be okay with what he’d done to me? How many would still say Ted was the better choice if they could see the mark on my cheek and know how it had gotten there? How many would condemn Zander after they found out that he'd been the reason I hadn't suffered a worse fate at the hands of Ted? And how many would care that I'd been happier with Zander in the past thirty-six hours than I’d been in the past twenty years?

  "They can go to hell," I responded softly.

  Zander smiled and picked up his water glass. "Amen," he said as he held his glass out. I clinked mine against it and took a sip. "How did you end up in Eden?" I asked.