Revived
S.E. Roberts
Revived
Copyright © 2018 by S.E. Roberts
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblances to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except for the brief quotations in a book review.
Formatted by: Jessica Ames
Cover design by: Bella Emy Graphics
Edited by: Kim Deister at The Story Tender
Edited by: Trenda London at It’s Your Story Content Editing
Proofread by: Andrea Galante
Revived Playlist
Follow Me~ Uncle Kracker
Jumper~ Third Eye Blind
Brown Eyed Girl~ Van Morrison
Single Ladies~ Beyoncé
To Make You Feel My Love~ Garth Brooks
These songs are used in a fictitious way and the author does not claim ownership to any of them.
Dedicated to my BFF Amanda. Love you!
We are all a little weird
and life’s a little weird,
and when we find someone whose
weirdness is compatible with ours,
we join up with them and fall in
mutual weirdness and call it love.
~Dr. Seuss
Contents
Prologue
1. Ryker
2. Claire
3. Claire
4. Claire
5. Ryker
6. Claire
7. Claire
8. Claire
9. Claire
10. Ryker
11. Claire
12. Ryker
13. Claire
14. Ryker
15. Claire
16. Ryker
17. Claire
18. Claire
19. Ryker
20. Claire
21. Ryker
22. Ryker
23. Claire
24. Claire
25. Ryker
26. Claire
27. Claire
28. Ryker
29. Claire
30. Ryker
31. Ryker
32. Ryker
33. Claire
34. Claire
35. Ryker
36. Claire
37. Claire
38. Claire
39. Ryker
40. Claire
41. Ryker
42. Claire
43. Ryker
44. Claire
45. Ryker
46. Ryker
47. Claire
48. Ryker
49. Ryker
50. Claire
51. Claire
52. Ryker
53. Claire
54. Claire
55. Claire
56. Ryker
57. Ryker
58. Claire
59. Claire
60. Claire
61. Ryker
62. Claire
63. Claire
64. Ryker
65. Claire
66. Claire
67. Claire
68. Ryker
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Prologue
Claire
The roaring gusts of wind thrust my small car around the wet street. It’s difficult to see too far in front of me, so I’m driving significantly under the speed limit. This severe weather is common for spring in Chicago. I really shouldn’t complain after the horrendous winter we just had.
I should be focusing on keeping myself safe, but I’m eager to tell my husband about my news. Our son Brady is only eight months old which means he and his sibling will be close in age. My brother Evan and I were four years apart, which made it hard for us to bond, so I always wanted my children closer together.
Trevor told me he would be working late tonight, so my best friend Shayna is babysitting while I surprise him with dinner at the office. I got him his favorite, Charlie’s, on my way. I’ve missed him this week, as he’s worked late every night.
When I pull into the narrow, vacant parking lot, I quickly get out of my gray Honda Civic and open the back door to collect our food and drinks. I’m eager to spend some alone time with him, even if I’d rather it be somewhere else.
The torrential downpour is causing drastic flooding on the sidewalks, so I am careful not to fall. I cautiously balance everything in my hands, trying not to drop anything. I’m clumsy, but right now would not be a good time for that to transpire. I set the takeout bags on the sidewalk to open the door but find that it’s locked. Strange. I guess it makes sense because the office is closed. I know he doesn’t like stragglers walking in, especially after hours.
“Trevor?” I call out, unsure if he’ll be able to hear me over the rain beating on the roof.
After what feels like several long minutes, I try again. “Trevor?” I yell, starting to become irritated because now I’m soaked. Of course, I’m wearing a white shirt today, of all days.
I’m standing under the awning in front of Davis Chiropractic, but it isn’t doing me much good at this point.
Finally, I hear something on the other side of the door and I’m relieved to know that I’ll be inside soon. But then I hear a voice that isn’t Trevor’s.
“Trevor!” A woman’s voice. What the hell is going on? I rattle the handle harder but still get no response. I quickly run around to the back of the building and bang on one of the windows. I see another window is slightly ajar. That’s when my world comes crashing down on me.
I can’t breathe.
My husband, my world, is thrusting in and out of his assistant, Nicole. His fingers run through her stringy, boxed-blonde hair.
I’m going to be sick. How could he do this to me?
I can’t seem to pull myself away from the window fast enough, but when I do, I run. It’s the only thing I know to do. I abandon the food sitting on the sidewalk and sprint to my car.
I’m only a couple blocks from Shayna’s, so I head in the direction of her house. I know she’ll be able to calm me and I need to see my son. This was supposed to be one of the happiest days of my life, but it is now possibly the worst.
“Claire, what the hell is wrong with you?” Shayna asks as soon as she swings the door open. I know I’m a mess with mascara running down my face, my clothes drenched from the rain.
“He. He.” I can’t get the words out because I’m crying so hard. My chest hurts. I can hardly breathe.
“Okay, babe, you need to calm down. Let’s go sit and I’ll get you a drink. Want some lemonade?” I nod as I climb onto a stool at the bar in her kitchen. Before getting my drink, Shayna brings me a bath towel to wrap myself in.
I’m appreciative of the silence and I start to calm a little as I sip my drink. Finally, Shayna speaks.
“What happened, Claire?” She looks at me with concern in her eyes.
“I just caught Trevor with Nicole,” I whisper. Saying it aloud makes it more real and causes me to lose my composure once again.
My hands start to tremble uncontrollably and I have to put my glass down before I break it.
“I’m going to be sick.” I sprint to the bathroom and lose the contents of my stomach. The horrid taste of bile in my mouth making me want to throw up again.
I hear the faucet on the sink turn on. In the midst of my breakdown, I didn’t notice Shayna had come into the bathroom.
“Here, this should help you feel a little better.” She pats at my forehead with a wet cloth. Thankfully, it does help some as I had started breaking out in a sweat.
“Thanks.” I croak. I know that this stress cannot be good on my baby, so I really need to calm the hell down.
Once I’m confident that I’m not going to be sick again, I lay on the bathroom floor. Typically, this would gross me out as Shay has hairspray stuck to it, but right now I couldn’t care less. I welcome the coolness against my skin.
Moments later, once my breathing is back to normal, I grab onto the toilet as I carefully stand.
“You wanna go lay on my bed?” Shay asks. “Brady is playing in the living room and I’ll watch him as long as you need.”
I wipe my mouth on the back of my hand. “No, I think I’ll be alright.” I then wipe my sweaty hands on my skirt, which of course does nothing, considering my skirt is still wet.
“Okay, well, at least let me get you some dry clothes.” She heads toward her bedroom as I stare at myself in the mirror above the sink. My makeup is completely washed off my tear-streaked face, my eyes red and puffy.
He cheated on me.
I’m still trying to wrap my head around this new bit of information. How could he do this to me after everything we’ve been through together?
“Here.” Shay hands me a pair of yoga pants along with a New Kids on the Block shirt. If I wasn’t so devastated right now, I’d probably laugh at her.
Once I’m left alone, I slide down the door and as my ass hits the floor, the emotions take over again. I can’t seem to catch my breath and now I’ve given myself a raging headache from all the crying I’ve done in the last hour. I’m not sure how it’s possible that I still have tears left.
After several moments, I’m finally able to change.
I walk toward Shay’s kitchen to fetch a plastic bag for my wet clothes and hear my son babbling in the next room. I manage to form a small smile on my face. My heart aches, but the little guy still needs his mother. Somehow, I’m going to have to figure out how to move forward from this. Is that even possible?
When I get to the living room, I lift my son from the floor as Shayna gives me a worried look.
“Shay, I just need to hold him.” She nods in understanding and leaves the room to give me some privacy.
Brady is very much a mama’s boy. He’s the calm to my storm and I wish that I could sit here all night like this with him in my arms. I lean in to kiss the top of his head. The aroma of his lavender shampoo hits my nose, and I immediately become relaxed by the familiar scent. He rests his head on my shoulder as if he knows exactly what I need in this moment.
I look over at the coffee table that holds my phone and see that it’s lighting up. I had shut the ringer off on my way here so I wouldn’t have to deal with Trevor. I’m not ready yet.
Not a minute later, I notice it ringing again but quickly send it to voicemail. I know I’ll break again when I hear his voice. I don’t want to hear his excuses or lies. If I had more of Brady’s things with me, I would ask Shay if I could crash on her couch tonight. I’m not sure what awaits me at home.
I lay on the couch and massage my sons back which soon puts him into a deep slumber. I know I need to get home before I also become tired. Who am I kidding? I’m exhausted. Mentally and physically.
When I catch myself dozing off, I decide it’s time to gather Brady’s belongings. I need to stop putting off the inevitable. Maybe he won’t be home, so I can avoid him a bit longer.
“Come on, Mama. I’ll walk you out to your car,” Shay says as she buckles Brady into his seat for me. Mindful not to wake him.
“Babe, I’ve been trying to call you for the last hour. Where have you been?” Trevor asks as I walk through the front door. Is he serious right now? Does he have no idea what I just saw?
I silently begin weeping again but disregard his question as I lift Brady from his car seat and carry him upstairs for bed.
Trevor now runs my father’s chiropractic office after he and my mom were killed by a drunk driver two years ago. Actually, our dads had owned it together for years. His dad died the year before my parents, from cancer.
I love my family, but I’ve always hated their way of thinking. Nobody was ever good enough in my father’s eyes. He and my mother always snubbed their noses at people who didn’t have high-society professions like them. My husband is no different. I guess that’s why he fit into our family so well.
Once I have Brady changed and, in his crib, I head downstairs, hoping to get some laundry done. I’m quiet as I go down the stairs because I’m assuming that Trevor is in our bedroom, but I couldn’t be so lucky.
“Claire, what’s going on?” That’s when I lose it.
I can’t speak at first, over the tears. “What’s going on?” I choke out. “What the fuck do you think is going on?” I’m seeing red as I lean against the mocha brown wall and sluggishly slide down it because I feel like I may be sick again if I don’t sit.
My sweet, loving husband doesn’t seem to care that I’m devastated. I can tell he’s only probing because he feels he has to.
“I have no idea, but would appreciate it if you’d fill me in. Where have you and Brady been all night?” He’s either a complete moron or he’s good at playing dumb. I can’t decide which. I press my face into my hands, refusing to look at him.
“Shayna’s,” I clip as I snap my head up in his direction.
“Okay, so why didn’t you answer my calls?” He asks hesitantly.
“Because I didn’t feel like talking to my cheating husband.” I stand and head toward the basement so I can start laundry, but I’m quickly halted when he grabs my arm.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” He seethes, looking guilty and pissed. Sorry, Trev, your secret is out.
“I’m talking about how I saw you laying on top of Nicole when I brought you dinner!” I scream. I can’t keep it together any longer as my knees begin to buckle underneath me.
We’re now standing by the basement entrance and as I swing the door open to head down, he grabs me by both shoulders and begins to shake me.
“Claire, I’ve been so stressed with work and then having to come home to you needing my help. I’m exhausted and just needed to let off some steam.” He says this as if it’s no big deal. He’s still holding on to my shoulders, but the next thing I know I’m stumbling backward and everything goes black.
1
Ryker
Three Years Earlier
I double-check my coat pocket, making sure the tiny, black, velvet box is still there, as I ride in the back of a London airport bus. It’s been six months since I’ve seen my girlfriend Monica and I am ready to get to her. She has no idea I’m coming, but I’ve been planning this trip for months to surprise her for our two-year anniversary. I just hope she’s in her apartment when I get there. I know she doesn’t work today, so my chances are decent.
I’ve never been here before, so I try to enjoy the sights we pass, but I’m too anxious to pay much attention. Monica is only a few miles from the airport and I probably could have walked but didn’t want to chance getting lost. I booked a bed and breakfast that I plan on taking her to tonight after my surprise for her is on her finger.
After what feels like hours but is probably only a few minutes, the bus finally stops at the end of Monica’s street. I grab my suitcase from overhead and make my way towards the love of my life.
I was so worried that we wouldn’t be able to handle a long-distance relationship, but we’ve made it work. Don’t get me wrong. It fucking sucks that I haven’t seen her in so long, but at least we get to talk over FaceTime every night. We’re halfway through her internship and then I plan on making her my wife shortly after she gets home. She’ll want an extravagant wedding, but I don’t want to postpone it longer than we need to.
These apartment buildings look more like old houses. I have to double-check her address since they all look the same. Once I’m sure I
have the right building, I open the door and am immediately hit with the strong smell of fresh paint. This place is extremely worn down and it’s going to take more than a coat of paint to help it. I head to the flight of stairs directly in front of the entrance and start the lengthy trek up to the fourth floor where my beautiful girlfriend is. It’s loud as hell in here with the airplanes flying over the building, causing the stairs to vibrate. I don’t know how anyone handles the noise all the time.
I lightly tap on the third door on the right. I stand there for a moment without an answer and can’t hear her on the other side of the door, so I knock again. Still no answer.
I try the knob and it’s surprisingly unlocked. I’ll be sure to tell her to make sure she keeps it locked. She’s in an unfamiliar city and, honestly, not in the most pleasant area.
I walk in and still see no sign of her. The apartment is small but has plenty of space for only Monica. It is decorated just as I would expect from her. The walls are a dirty white color, but the couch is decorated with gold and brown throw pillows, giving the space some character. I spot a flowery candle, burning freely, sitting on the coffee table. She must be home because she’d never leave a candle burning.
Revived (Unexpected Series Book 1) Page 1