Left with the echo of the pain-filled howl, the soreness in my throat shakes me back to the present, the here and now. Those were my cries. That’s my pain playing a dreadful chord on repeat.
My face in the crook between my knees, hands over my ears failing miserably to quiet the silent screams waging war on my sanity.
Time silences the cries in my head replacing the raging pain with the inexplicable and irrational feeling of falling. I plaster myself cheek to floor in an effort to ground my unstable mind and body. The cool hardwood of our office has a temporary calming effect.
I’m not sure how much time passes, but my rapid sobs slow to painful hiccups.
Of course, every part of this is gonna hurt. Why should breathing be mutually exclusive?
Through the crack between the door and the floor, I can see that night has taken over the light. Numb to the pain, I peel myself from the floor. The sight that greets me in the mirror could be the public service poster for heartache and heartbreak, hair a tangled mess of short waves, face swollen from harsh tear-clearing swipes, and eyes battered from the incessant crying. Splashing cool water does nothing for me. Even the temporary sense of feeling refreshed this act normally brings is absent.
Resolved to my state of muss and disarray, I reluctantly drag myself one heavy foot in front of the other to our bedroom.
Our. That hurts. Is it my?
I shake and shiver attempting to exorcise the thoughts from my head.
I can’t go there again…so soon.
There’s a glow coming from Diego’s side of the bed. The small light draws my attention to his bedside table; it casts an eerie hue over the folded piece of paper with my name scratched on it. The sight falters all movement.
When is a letter in a dimly lit, empty, room ever a bearer of good news?
My curiosity gets the better of me. My legs are moving towards the truths the note contains before my heart is on board with the decision. There’s a disconnect between head and heart. With deliberate steps, I make it to the note; my heart keeping my hands from picking it up.
Unable to resist any longer, there’s a frantic hesitation to the way I unfold the paper; both hurried and purposely slow at the same time.
Chapter Twenty-Four:
Mr. Brightside
December 2006
Diego
I see the image on the screen. The one I never wanted Izzy to see…there, on her computer monitor. She’s just staring at the screen, she doesn’t even notice me.
FUUUUUCK!
Hindsight is always fucking twenty-twenty, but damn if I thought I did the right thing. I go over the multiple times I could have said something, but I was more concerned with what I’d lose if she saw this, than what it would do to her if I wasn’t the one that showed her.
I watch her. Waiting for something. A sign. A reaction. But she’s so still. And then I see it, the heave in her chest tells me she’s holding it in, trying not to break. I suck in a quick breath at the sight.
She turns to look at me. She heard my gasp. Like she did with the monitor, she just stares.
“I’m so sorry, Izzy,” I plead. Not finding the words to explain. To make this better. Who the fuck am I kidding? How the fuck do I make that better?
“GOOOO!” The pain resonating in her voice and ripping my soul to shreds.
Fuck if that sight doesn’t kill me. That’s my fault right there. I did that. I refuse to look away at my wife losing her mind, because I…
Because I what?
I deserve this. I made the strongest woman I’ve ever known break. While she sits there and screams for me to go, buried beneath her arms and into her tucked up knees, I resist the urge to go to her.
I did this.
I don’t deserve the right to ease my guilt by easing the pain I caused her. So, I do what she told me to do. I go.
Out the door to the office and down the stairs to the kitchen, I grab the tablet of paper sitting on the counter and put fucking pen to paper.
Even if she won’t listen now, I have to tell her something. I can’t erase what’s done, but I sure as hell can make things close to right.
I stumble over the words I want to say. Scribbling over the wrong ones and making a mess of the paper and my note.
Most of what needs to be said, can’t be written in a note. No. She has to hear it from me. She has to see that I’m telling the truth, that I’m not that man anymore. That…
Fuck.
The shrill sound of my phone ringing startles me. The caller ID alerts me that it’s Sebastian, “Fuck.” He’s gonna kick my ass. What the fuck was I thinking?
“Baz,” I answer. I can hear the void in my voice, I don’t doubt he does, too.
“D, what’s going on?” his tone serious and laced with concern.
“I fucked up, Baz. I have to get out of the house. Can you come stay with Izzy?”
He knows not to ask questions. A lifetime and a brotherhood together, he knows that I’ll tell him, but if I’m not offering it up now, now’s not the time. He agrees to come. I told him I’d wait until he got here.
After hanging up, I rush to pour what words I can find onto the tiny paper. Hoping that with every word, I’m not making it worse. I keep reading what I’ve written.
I’m on my millionth reread when I hear Baz come in. Folding the note, I write Izzy’s name on the front of it. With a sigh, I push myself back from the counter. I’m trying to find the strength to go past the sight of my wife crumbling, to walk out the door and give her the space I know she needs.
Meeting Baz at the top of the stairs, I chicken out and have Baz deliver the note to our bedroom. Directing him to place it on the nightstand and to turn on the bedside lamp.
We exchange a look and he gives me a hug and some advice, “Whatever it is D, you better fucking fix it.”
I’ve gone up against giants among men on the field too many times to count, but the hardest thing I’ve ever done is to walk out this door.
My Dearest Izzy,
It killed me to leave. To see you there, lying on the floor. To know that I did that. I left because maybe you won't hurt so much if I'm not there.
Please know that no explanation of the truth will fix this, that in some fucked up way, everything I did was to protect you and that nothing is what it seems.
I'm not that man anymore, bella. No matter what, you are it for me. You and you alone.
I should've trusted you with the truth. You've always seen the best in me and I let my fear of losing the most important person in my life keep me from being honest.
With all that we've faced these last couple of months, I just hope I haven't broken you or us. I hope that no matter how twisted our fates are that they begin and end with us together.
Forever yours,
Your Saint
Dear Reader,
I realize that you’re probably reeling from the way Love Turns With Twisted Fates has ended. I offer an almost apology. #SorryNotSorry
When I plotted out this series, I knew what I wanted to include but I had no idea where each chunk of Izzy and Diego’s story would end and the next chunk would begin. These breaks, if you will, kinda happen naturally. In LTYBA, I had almost 10k more words (that I completely trashed and will never ever be read again; awful doesn’t begin to describe them) written after the end you got, but after a half dozen rereads, I kept going back to the chapter where Izzy passes out. The cliffhanger wasn’t intentional, but it worked. Like LTYBA, LTWTF’s original ending isn’t what you got. I reached the plotted ending and it lacked the punch to the gut I was looking for. I decided to reword the ending and go back and fill in the missing pieces. That’s what you read. Without apologizing for the cliffhanger, I offer you this:
Diego and Izzy’s story is nowhere near over. There’s a lot to cover in their story and these two books are literally just the beginning. I like cliffhangers, chances are most of my books will probably have a cliffhanger of some sort. I joke that Caleigh Hernandez and C
liff Hangers are synonymous. We do share the same initials.
But I digress: don’t let a good cliffhanger ruin your experience. Like real life, sometimes the end of a chapter isn’t so neatly tied up. I’m not threatening an unhappily ever after, I’m just saying that sometimes being left with that “I need more” feeling is exactly what you should be feeling.
Thank you so much, so much,
Caleigh Hernandez
Acknowledgements
When I pushed publish in December 2014, I had no idea the ride I was in for. There have been some ups, lots of downs, but through it all there have been some amazing persons that help me to keep my eye on the dream. I’d been inspired by a song with a need to tell a story when I set out to write Love Takes Your Breath Away. With Love Turns With Twisted Fates, my cheerleaders were the reason you have more of Izzy and Diego’s story and will continue to get the rest of their story.
To my amazing husband, thanks for everything. Today, you wrote some amazing words and posted them on your Facebook. These words reached into my soul and I’m speechless. Yeah, yeah, it’s hard to believe that I am without words, but I’ve sat here trying to think of an appropriate response and nothing seems appropriate. Thanks for being you. Thanks for making sure the girls get to Kajukenbo practice, for making sure we get fed, and for taking care of house and home when I can’t manage my time well enough to do it myself. Thanks for believing in me so much that you can’t find it in your heart to ask me to put it on hold because we could really use the money. Thank you for continuing to be the man they write stories about. I love you so much, so much. #LYSMSM
To my daughters, never stop dreaming. With hard work, perseverance, and a few good friends, anything is possible…but in the meantime, live, laugh, love, and unicorns.
To my forever friends and besties thanks for being the wind beneath my wings…Misty, without a doubt you have been one of my biggest cheerleaders and supporters. Thanx for always being there with mani/pedi, coffee, a hike or just a much needed break from life. You’re unwavering support of me chasing my dreams is beyond words. I love you. Kelley, my Supernatural Siren, my fellow Book Vamp…thanx for getting on the crazy train that is the book world with me. Love you. To my AliCat, AliGator and BritSis…you rock my world and spoil me to bits. Who’d have thunk it? You continue to give me the can do attitude necessary to get shit done and you’re always there when I need to vent. I’m looking forward to getting to squeeze you in person. Love you. To my HotDonna…I can’t remember when it all started, but we went from zero to sixty and tears and hugs in Vegas. Truly an epic time in my life. Thank you for your relentless support and ego-boosting. #HotForFootballers
To my #bookstar, she knows who she is. This book would not have been possible without your friendship and continued support. Your first book rocked my world and shifted my foundation. Your words encouraged me to reach for my own dreams. I thought to myself, I want to be her when I grow up. It brought me into a world that I never knew existed and introduced me to some incredible friends. Here’s to epic book hangovers and filthy-mouthed Alphas. I book you.
To my Sweet & Spicy Writer Chicks, Sauce, Rexy, Creeper, Woody and KittyHo...the life of this would-be author changed the day Rexy decided we needed to band together. This has been a hell of an adventure and with you crazy, kinky chicks by my side, I’ve officially published two books. Love you writer bitches.
To my betas and proofreaders: Y’all made this dreamer girl feel like she could actually write. LOL…Michele my #ViolentBeta, your relentless nagging and constant support helped me to type “The End.” Your feedback was priceless and I’m so excited to continue this journey with you by my side. Ashley, thanks for pushing me. Thanks for telling me when something “just wasn’t good enough.” Robin and MaryLee, thank you. I know you weren’t a fan of the way this one ended. Sorry I couldn’t change it. Stephanie, my Wheezy (teeheehee)—thanx for being another pair of eyes and loving me enough to not completely hate me. Jill & Ninfa, my clean-up crew. You two will always need to read together. It was so much fun.
To my mom who has always supported and encouraged my reading habits. My love affair with books began with Are You My Mother and Dr. Seuss books, but it was my first Nancy Drew book that truly triggered my incessant need for more words, more stories. Have I ever told you how much I love you?
To my friends and inspirations: Mindi Lou Who, Ashley “BBB” Truelove, Faith Andrews, Adriana Locke, K. Langston, VPTejas Girl Steph, Laurelin Paige, Cara Arthur, Mary Baird, Thaty Bastos…Thank you.
About the Author
Caleigh Hernandez is a not-so-perfect mom of 2 beautiful daughters, a terrible housekeeper, and sometimes, a doting wife. A few years ago, she decided to take life by the horns and throw caution to the wind. She went back to school, earning a degree in Web & Multimedia Design where her long-time passion for writing was reignited with a creative writing class. It was during her final term when she conceived a story she just had to tell.
When not buried in the ridiculousness of everyday life, you can find Caleigh curled up with her Kindle devouring a book, watching crime dramas (she's obsessed), screaming at the TV while watching her SJ Sharks, Oakland Raiders or Oakland A's, getting cozy with a good superhero flick, or getting her adrenaline fix on a roller coaster. She hates cleaning and loathes laundry. She's a shoe whore that lives in flip flops and loves to be barefoot.
In the immortal words of her husband, "Caleigh Hernandez is a bad ass bitch."
Love Takes Your Breath Away is the first novella in the Truth About Love Series.
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2015 Caleigh Hernandez
All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher or author constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from this book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
FBI Anti-Piracy Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of a copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
Cover art created by Christina Leigh Designs
with Shutterstock image # 161297273
Except for the original material written by the author, all songs, song titles, and lyrics mentioned in the novel Love Turns With Twisted Fates are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.
Table of Contents
Dedication
Prologue: My Dearest Izzy
Chapter One: We’ve Only Just Begun
Chapter Two: Waiting for the Sun
Chapter Three: Discipline
Chapter Four: I Like It, I Love It
Chapter Five: The Way You Make Me Feel
Chapter Six: Strong Enough
Chapter Seven: Wind Beneath My Wings
Chapter Eight: All Star
Chapter Nine: The Boy Is Mine
Chapter Ten: Witchy Woman
Chapter Eleven: Bad Moon Rising
Chapter Twelve: Friends Forever
Chapter Thirteen: I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing
Chapter Fourteen: Not What It Seems
Chapter Fifteen: Chick Habit
Chapter Sixteen: There’s Hope for the Hopeless
Chapter Seventeen: My First, My Last, My Everything
Chapter Eighteen: I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry
Chapter Nineteen: Mad World
Chapter Twenty: Sounds of Silence
Chapter Twenty-One: Tears in He
aven
Chapter Twenty-Two: Thief of Hearts
Chapter Twenty-Three: Don’t Speak
Chapter Twenty-Four: Mr. Brightside
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Copyright
Love Turns With Twisted Fates (Truth About Love Book 2) Page 16