by Nikki Blythe
In Bloom
Seasons of Highland Lakes 1
Nikki Blythe
Bragi Publishing
Copyright © 2020 by Bragi Publishing
All rights reserved.
All the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
For those who believe there is no way out.
There is help for you, I promise.
A Word
Content Warning: This book contains domestic abuse situations and discussions about those situations.
With this story, I wanted to shed light on domestic violence from both sides of a situation. In this case, the person experiencing the abuse is a man experiencing abuse at the hands of his female fiancé. This isn’t talked about enough, but it does happen, and it’s an important discussion. Anyone can experience abuse, and it doesn’t make you any less of a person.
If you are experiencing abuse, no matter your gender, please call the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-7233.
Contents
Prologue
1. Chapter One
2. Chapter Two
3. Chapter Three
4. Chapter Four
5. Chapter Five
6. Chapter Six
7. Chapter Seven
8. Chapter Eight
9. Chapter Nine
10. Chapter Ten
11. Chapter Eleven
12. Chapter Twelve
13. Chapter Thirteen
14. Chapter Fourteen
15. Chapter Fifteen
16. Chapter Sixteen
17. Chapter Seventeen
18. Chapter Eighteen
Epilogue
Want a Free Book?
About the Author
Also by Nikki Blythe
Prologue
Cedar
I peered at my reflection in the gilded floor-length mirror. The beads on my embroidered bodice glinted in the glow of the fairy lights strung around the bridal ready room. My makeup was flawless, highlighting my blue eyes and accentuating the cupid’s bow my lips boasted. My blonde hair was pulled back into an elaborately braided half bun, and the other half cascaded down my back in graceful waves.
I turned to inspect the corset lacing on the back of my dress in the mirror, and the skirts of my dress rustled as I moved. Tears sprang to my eyes. Thus far, my wedding day was everything I had ever imagined it would be.
With all the horror stories I heard and watched on reality television, I had expected to have one disaster after another thrown at me like grenades meant to obliterate my perfect day.
So far, however, every moment had gone exactly as planned. The florist had everything I asked for, including the difficult-to-find peonies I desperately wanted. My favorite restaurant had an opening, and even gave me a discount, since I was in their dining room so often. I had found my dress on the first day, and it didn’t even require altering. Every little detail I had spent months fawning over had come to fruition, even the rehearsal and dinner the night before, despite Gareth’s mother’s disdain for me.
I was a filthy hippie, she always complained. Because of my interest in essential oils, incense, and yoga, I was unfit for her son; the lawyer destined to one day be president, or so she thought.
But no matter. She had behaved herself the night before, and nothing, not even her attitude, could ruin my wedding day.
“Are you going to stare at yourself all day?” A lilted voice called from behind me. “You do have a ceremony to get to here soon, you know.”
I turned to glare at one of my bridesmaids, Kyra. She sat with my two other best friends, Ivy and Elizabeth, and they all giggled at Kyra’s joke.
“Oh, lay off of her,” Elizabeth chided gently, wiping a tear of laughter from her eye. “It’s not every day a woman gets to appreciate her own beauty.”
“Hmm, here, here!” Called Kyra, before she downed half a cup of the Sauvignon Blanc laid out by the vendors for our enjoyment.
I shook my head. I knew they only made fun to keep the mood light. I appreciated all three for their steadfast devotion in helping me to plan and create this dream of mine, making it a reality.
Ivy stood and straightened the pale pink dress hugging her curvy form. Her black hair, curly as ever, was styled like mine, as much as it could be given how difficult it had been to tame her hair. She walked over and took my hands in hers. I stared into her hazel eyes until she gave me a kiss on the cheek and embraced me in that way only a best friend, a sister, could.
“I’m so proud of you, Cedar,” she whispered. “Seriously, the first of us to fall in love and marry. It’s a dream come true, I’m sure.”
“It is. And Gareth, he’s such a dream, too. I can’t imagine a life without him in it,” I swooned.
“Hmm,” Kyra hummed, approaching as she tossed her brown hair behind her shoulder.
She had refilled her wine glass and stood next to Ivy, sipping until Ivy moved enough that Kyra could give me a hug as well.
“Today will be gorgeous,” she said as she pulled away. “And who knows? Maybe we three will find our true love at the reception,” she winked.
Elizabeth, with her red hair, green eyes, and freckles, came to stand next to us, appearing like a soft flame, warm and inviting.
“Maybe, but don’t count on it. All of Gareth’s family are sort of weird, and you can’t meet your true love at a wedding reception. You can’t even ask the important questions, like if they read or not!” She cried, rolling her eyes. “I’ll be content to enjoy watching my best friend fall in love with her man all over again. You two have fun scouring the crowd for a good fuck,” she cast a playful grin at Ivy and Kyra.
“Oh, have no fear,” Kyra joked. “I will absolutely have fun in that regard.”
We all laughed but were soon interrupted as the wedding planner burst in and beamed at us all. I noticed her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, however. They were rimmed with red, and slightly puffy.
“Oh good, you’re ready. It’s time.”
My heart fluttered and my stomach jolted.
It’s time.
I glanced around at my bridesmaids, and with encouraging smiles, they all walked with me to the staging area behind a set of wide double doors. In front of us, two of Gareth’s cousins sat waiting to be let loose so they could toss their flower petals. Ivy, Kyra, and Elizabeth all lined up in front of me, and I took two deep breaths, trying to stay my excitement.
My heart galloped within my chest as I stared at the double doors, waiting to be let loose myself.
An arm snaked its way through mine, and I looked to my left to see Thomas, my brother, standing next to me in his Army dress uniform.
“You could have worn a tux, you know. You aren’t in the military anymore,” I admonished playfully.
“Once a soldier, always a soldier,” he replied solemnly.
I hummed in assent. “Too true.”
“How are you feeling?” He whispered.
“I’m so excited, Tom. I can’t wait to meet him at the altar, to see the look in his eyes as he sees me in this getup,” I bounced on my toes, gesturing to my ornate dress.
Thomas laughed. “He’ll think you look beautiful. I wish Mom and Dad were here to see this,” he sighed.
“Me too.”
I loo
ked down at my dress, smiling broadly. I had found a picture of my mom on her wedding day and had wanted to find a similar dress. When I found this one on the first day of looking, I had almost collapsed with giddy tears. I wanted to feel close to my parents in some small way, given that their absence was inevitable.
He took my hand in his and squeezed. “I really am so thrilled for you, Cedar,” he whispered.
“Thank you,” I replied, tears springing to my eyes again.
“Oh, none of that now,” Thomas said, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket with his free hand and dabbing at my eyes. “You’ll ruin your makeup.”
I let go of his hand and threw myself into him. He was a great dealer taller than me, so my head rested perfectly on his chest. He wrapped his arms around me but didn’t say a word.
The music started playing then, and the ushers opened the paned glass doors to reveal hundreds of white wooden chairs set in rows. The wide aisle was decorated with a lace runner and pink peony bouquets graced the ends of each row.
The flower girls walked on ahead, tossing their petals with excited giggles. Then my best friends, the only bridesmaids I needed, walked on ahead of me. They took their place beside the altar where Gareth stood waiting. He had his back to me until the music changed to indicate I was to make my way down the aisle. Gareth’s brown hair was trimmed and brushed neatly. His face was clean shaven, and his eyes were wide with what I assumed to be excitement, or perhaps anxiety. He held his hands behind his back and waited patiently for me to arrive.
I took slow, measured steps in time with the music. As nervous as I was, I had been practicing in my heels for weeks, just to make sure I got my entrance perfect. Kyra mocked me the whole time, suggesting countless times that I should have worn flats instead.
I reached the altar and took Gareth’s proffered hand. I smiled, elation and nerves filling me in equal measure. The music stopped, and we both turned to the officiant.
We had decided on a secular ceremony, since my family was agnostic, and his was non-denominational. It just seemed easier.
The officiant cleared his throat, and with a wide grin, announced to the waiting crowd, “We gather here, today, to witness the marriage of-”
“Wait,” Gareth muttered.
The officiant halted, throwing Gareth a puzzled glance.
I mirrored the officiant’s expression as I glanced to Gareth and whispered, “Are you all right?”
“No,” he replied, his tone heavy.
“What’s the matter? Are you feeling ill?” I launched into panic mode and began concocting solutions for his imagined ails, but he shook his head.
He turned and faced me full on and sighed. I turned to face him as well, and he took my hands in his.
“Cedar,” he said. “I can’t do this.”
“Do what?” I giggled nervously, pushing my worst fears to the back of my mind.
“This,” he said, gesturing to the room at large. “I can’t marry you.”
I stared at him, aghast. At first my heart stopped, and my body ran ice cold. A wave of nausea overcame me, and I took my hands from his and let them fall to my side. Rage bled into my despair, shielding me from the breakdown I could feel coming on.
How dare he? After all the time and effort and money we had put into the wedding, on top of the years I had spent with him, nurturing a relationship I thought would be lifelong. Only for him to dump me on the fucking altar?
Fury burned through me, lighting my veins on fire, and looking back, I had to admit that the rage I felt in that moment was likely the only thing keeping me standing. Ivy stepped forward from behind me and whispered in my ear.
“Is everything all right?”
“Why don’t you ask Gareth?” I said at full volume.
The crowd gasped, but I ignored them. I had all but forgotten that hundreds of people sat in chairs watching what had to be the worst, and most embarrassing, moment of my adult life.
Elizabeth and Kyra stepped forward then, and all four of us glared at Gareth.
“What’s going on?” Elizabeth asked.
“Gareth was just telling me why he can’t marry me,” I practically shouted.
More gasps from our frozen audience floated towards me. I could feel the heat in my cheeks, the rage building in my fingertips. I longed to strike him across his devilishly handsome face.
“And why is that?” Asked Kyra, accusingly.
She stood just to my left and accidently elbowed me as she crossed her arms over her chest. I couldn’t even feel it, though I knew a bruise would form.
“I - I am in love with someone else,” he stammered, not bothering to whisper this time.
“Who might that be?” I growled.
“Lori,” he said.
He can’t even bother to look ashamed, I thought.
“The wedding planner?” I hissed.
I swiveled my head towards the double doors and glared as I watched them close, the hem of a pale purple skirt whipping out of sight as they did. All morning Lori, the woman I had hired to plan my meticulous wedding, had been bleary-eyed and her nose had been red as she sniffled her way through the preparations. So many times, I’d asked her if she needed to go home to tend to the cold I thought she had.
But no. She had been crying because she was in love with my fiancé.
I whipped my head back to glare at Gareth, but he had already fled down the aisle, presumably to follow his love. His family began to file out of the ceremony space, while mine sat in stunned silence. Thomas made to follow, but Ivy stopped him with a gentle hand on his elbow. I watched Gareth leave without bothering to try calling him back to me.
He made his choice.
And I wasn’t it.
Chapter One
Neville
I tousled my brown hair, staring into the mirror as I readied myself for work. I looked my reflection over appreciatively, enjoying the way the tight black t-shirt hugged the muscles I had been working for months on attaining. The sleeve tattoos on my arms stood out against the black cloth, and I flexed slightly to see the back side. The sleeve on my right arm was the oldest, and it was fading. I would need to have Levi, my business partner and best friend, touch it up for me soon.
I grabbed my can of deodorant from behind the mirror and applied it, leaving a cloud of fragrance in the bathroom. I escaped, coughing, into the hallway as I headed to the bedroom to grab my wallet and phone so I could leave for work.
I always made it a point to be gone by about this time in the evening, and because I was running later than planned, a bead of sweat formed at my brow.
The sound of a slamming door hit my ears, and I winced. I glanced at the clock on the bedroom wall.
4:00 in the afternoon.
She was home early.
I braced myself, knowing she must have been in a mood, and turned to greet her with a pasted-on smile as she stormed into the bedroom.
“Hey, honey,” I said in a soft voice, hoping to placate her apparent ire. “How was work?”
Faith Shoemaker, my girlfriend of six years, threw her briefcase on the bed and then sat in an armchair in the corner. As she yanked her black, strappy heels off and threw them across the room, I noticed her straight blonde hair, normally never a strand out of place, was disheveled. She shot me a bloodshot glare, sending a chill down my spine.
“It was shit, Neville,” she grumbled.
“Did something happen?” I asked, moving to sit on the bed across from her.
“Nothing in particular. It was just a stressful day. I had to watch a bunch of divorce cases today, and they took their toll on me.”
Faith worked as a court reporter for the courthouse. Some days she would come home in such an angry mood, and it never bode well for me. In the beginning of our relationship, I used to think Faith wanted consolation and perhaps a hug or cuddle after such a long day. I learned very quickly that to touch her in this state was a terrible idea.
“It was an emotional day, huh?” I prodded.
“Of course it was,” she moaned. “I was constantly reminded that I am still unmarried, and that it’s your fault,” she hissed.
I sighed. I had hoped we could avoid this particular debate. It wasn’t a fun argument, and for the past several weeks, it just kept cropping up, like that silly Whack-a-Mole game.
“I’ve told you, I love you and I want to be with you, but why marry if we don’t have to yet?” I lied.
I couldn’t tell her that I was planning on leaving her as soon as the time was right. I needed an exit strategy, and none had presented itself just yet. The last time I attempted to leave, Faith had slit her wrists and ended up in the hospital. Her family blamed me, and so I felt like I was stuck in this relationship. Aside from Faith’s emotional manipulation and scare tactics, she was prone to bouts of violence, some that had landed me with injuries that I couldn’t explain very well to the outside world.
What man wants to admit his girlfriend is beating them? That he fears for his very life because of a small woman?
It was a tricky situation, and I had my doubts about leaving at all. What if she tried suicide again? What if I broke up with her, and she finally snapped in a way that was irrevocable—in a way that damaged my life forever?
“We would be absolutely ready if you had a real job, a real way to provide for us so that I could stop working and instead focus on making us a family,” Faith said.
I detected a hint of forlorn accusation.
“I have a real job, Faith,” I said with a warning in my tone.