Defining Moments
Copyright © 2015 by Andee Michelle
Publisher: AM Books, LLC
First Print Edition: January 2016
Editor: Virginia Cantrell, Hot Tree Editing
Cover Design & Interior Formatting: Pink Ink Designs
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission from the author.
This book is a work of fiction. All names, individuals, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Other books by Andee Michelle
Dedication
To my Mom, Gayle, and my sister, Donna; two of the strongest women I’ve ever known. Thank you both for giving me strong, independent women as role models. I love you both to the moon and back.
And to mothers of daughters everywhere: please teach your girls strength and independence. Teaching them to rely on someone else to take care of them, or to define their happiness, is a disservice to them. Teach them to be strong, independent and badass!
Defining Moments
Have you ever had moments in your life where something big happens,
whether good or bad, and it makes you stop and reflect on your life?
Moments where you see your life with clarity,
for what feels like the first time,
and you vow to make changes;
to fix or let go of relationships; to make apologies;
to forgive someone for no other reason than your own peace;
to let go of things you cannot fix or change;
to focus on fixing yourself;
and/or to let go of the pain you’ve held on to for way too long.
Those moments, the ones where you make those vows to yourself,
are defining moments of your life.
Never ignore them, because only you can change the path your life is on.
“MOM,” MY YOUNGEST SON screams from upstairs.
Don’t answer him. He knows I hate that. Don’t answer him.
“MOOOOOOOMMMM!” he screams again. I grit my teeth as I leave the bacon frying and head toward the bottom of the stairs.
“Destry Joseph! For the eight-billionth time, do not scream at me from upstairs. If you need me for something, come down here and talk to me about it,” I holler.
I turn and walk back toward the kitchen to finish making their breakfast. As usual, the twins are bickering as they come down the stairs. It sounds like a herd of damn elephants.
“Bullshit, dude. She wouldn’t go out with you if you paid her,” I hear Ben say to Eli as they push into the kitchen.
“Whatever, asshat, you’re just jealous cause I’m gonna tap that,” Eli replies as they take their seats at the breakfast bar. Neither of them even acknowledges I’m standing here as they start to load their plates with pancakes, eggs, and bacon.
“Elijah! Are you really having this discussion in front of me? Seriously! You’re supposed to treat women with respect, and sex isn’t supposed to be something you hand out like candy. It’s supposed to be between people who love each other. Jesus, how many times do we have to have this conversation?” I reprimand him.
He shrugs before replying, “Be serious, Mom. I’m twenty years old. I lost my virginity four years ago, you know this. You’re so old fashioned. Nobody waits until they’re in love to have sex. Nobody.”
“I don’t know why I even try,” I mumble under my breath, turning to make my own plate. I see movement in the entryway to the kitchen, and when I look up, it’s Destry, standing stark-naked, with a huge smirk on his face.
“Damn it, Destry!” I yell and turn away quickly. “What in the hell would possess you to come downstairs naked? Get your ass upstairs and put some clothes on.”
He laughs. “Well, I was trying to get you to bring me up my laundry basket, but you said to come down here if I need something. I need my laundry basket.”
“Well, I guess maybe next time you’ll put your damn clothes away when I tell you to. Now go get the basket. Then go back upstairs and put some clothes on!” I yell at him, hearing the twins laughing hysterically behind me.
“Good one, bro,” Eli laughs out.
I take a deep breath, count to ten, and calmly ask, “Did he go back upstairs?”
“Yeah, Ma, he did,” Ben responds.
I turn and watch as the twins gather their things and start heading out of the kitchen.
“Are you boys gonna be home for dinner tonight? I just want to know if I need to make something or not,” I ask them as they reach the front door.
“I’m out tonight. Date.” Eli wiggles his eyebrows and winks at me. I roll my eyes before replying, “Please behave yourself and treat that young lady the way you’d want someone to treat your future daughters.” He smiles, nods, and ducks out the door before I can lecture him any further.
“I’ve got study group on campus tonight, Ma. Don’t wait up for me. I’ve got a big test this week in Chem. I may just stay in the dorms with Caleb tonight depending on how late we are up studying,” Ben says sweetly, stopping just briefly to kiss my cheek, and then he’s gone too.
I shut the door behind them and head back into the kitchen to chew Destry’s ass, but he’s shoving a pancake in his mouth with one hand, while simultaneously trying to pull his helmet out of its bag with the other. I could kill his father for buying him that damn motorcycle. He’s only seventeen for Christ’s sake!
“Dez, please be careful on that thing, baby,” I start to lecture, but he holds his hand up to run interference, leans down, kisses my cheek, and runs toward the door.
“Running late, Ma. Thanks for breakfast,” he yells as the door slams shut.
I take in the scene in front of me. I made sixteen pancakes, an entire package of bacon, and a dozen scrambled eggs with cheese. The only thing left is the one pancake I managed to get on my plate in the craziness that was happening. They didn’t even put their plates and cups in the sink.
I shake my head and walk toward the coffee pot to get a cup to have with my now cold breakfast.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” I grumble when I realize, not only did the boys eat everything, they drank all my coffee. How did they do that? Between the three of them, they were literally in the kitchen for like five minutes total. I reach for the carafe to make another pot. While that’s brewing, I stick my pathetic breakfast in the microwave to warm it up.
Sitting down at the breakfast bar a few minutes later, I pull out the notepad I keep there to see what I need to get done today. Destry graduates from high school in just a couple of months an
d I have so much to do to prepare for that. Unlike the twins, Destry has decided to go away for college. He got a couple of football scholarship offers, none of which were local. So, he accepted the offer from Boise State University and will be living in the dorms on campus. Having the twins still living at home while they attend the local university has been much easier than having all my boys out of the house within a year of each other.
I add a few things to the list and put it to the side so I can clean up the kitchen. When my hands hit the warm water in the sink, my mind flashes back to a morning like this just six months ago. A morning that changed our entire lives forever.
With my back to the kitchen, I scrubbed at the skillet in the hot soapy water, trying hard not to let the tears fall. The boys and Justin all left about an hour ago, but I just couldn’t shake the feeling that something is wrong with Justin. Something is terribly wrong. He’s been so distant lately, and this morning, he wouldn’t even look at me. Something big is coming, I can feel it.
Just as I rinse the pan, I hear the front door open and close. One of the boys must have forgotten something. I turn to see what they need, but its Justin who walks into the kitchen, a forlorn look on his face.
“Hi, baby. What are you doing back, did you forget something?” I ask sweetly, walking toward him.
“We need to talk, Ell,” he says, not meeting my eyes.
I sit at the breakfast bar, knowing whatever it is, it’s bad. I wrack my brain trying to figure out what it could be. Is he sick? Did he lose his job? Are we broke?
“Ell, there really is no easy way to say this,” he chokes out, eyes filling with tears. Oh God. “You are my best friend, and I love you and our boys,” he pauses and looks up at me as the tears spill over, “but I’m not in love with you anymore.”
I stare at his face, trying to take in what he just said. I stand quickly, knocking the stool over in the process, backing up toward the sink.
“I’m so sorry, Ell. We both know we’ve been living as best friends, and not lovers, for years, and I just can’t do it anymore. I can’t go through the rest of my life without the passion we once had. We’ve both changed so much and it’s inevitable that we’d fall out of love,” he cries. “Please don’t hate me, Ellie. I won’t be able to deal with it if you hate me.”
I just stare at him, tears streaming down my face. What do I say to that?
“You don’t love me anymore?” I choke out.
“I do love you, Ell. But don’t you miss that passionate kind of love that we used to share? The kind that used to make your heart beat fast and the butterflies fill your stomach?”
“No, I don’t miss that, Justin. You know why I don’t miss it,” I yell at him, “because I still feel it! I still feel it every single time you touch me.” I race past him toward the stairs, but he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me to him.
“Please, Ellie. Please don’t hate me. You and the boys are the most important thing in the world to me. I just feel like I need a life change, and I think this is it. I’ve been unhappy for a while and I just don’t know what else to do,” he sobs into my hair.
I give myself a minute to catch my breath. I tap his hands lightly and he loosens his hold on me. I slowly pull myself away from him and take a few steps forward.
“I think you need to leave,” I say with as much strength as I can.
“But we need to talk about this more. We need to figure out what to do next,” he retorts, pain evident in his voice.
I turn and look into the eyes of the man I’ve loved more than half my life; the man I promised to love till death; the man who gave me three beautiful sons; the man who, up until a week ago looked at me like I was his greatest gift. His usually beautiful face is completely sullen and he looks heartbroken, which is odd since he’s the one who just told me he doesn’t love me. And then it dawns on me.
“Who is she?” I choke out. His face drops even further and he looks down at the ground, confirming there is a “she.”
“Don’t do this, Ellie,” he replies, tears still in his eyes. “I’d never cheat on you because I respect you more than that. Nothing has happened with anyone else,” he pauses, swallowing before he continues, “but it could.”
I sit on the ground for fear I’ll pass out. This can’t be happening to us. We’ve been married for twenty-one years! We were high school sweethearts—the couple most likely to stay together forever. I always thought we were the lucky ones because we were still so in love with each other after all this time. What a fool I’ve been.
He lowers himself onto the ground beside me and leans back against the wall, hanging his head in his hands.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers. I watch as his shoulders shake and the sobs wrack his body. Why in the hell is he so upset? He did this.
“Why then?” I ask sternly. “Why are you tearing apart our family if you are ‘so sorry’?”
He lifts his head and looks into my eyes, and I know instantly I don’t want to hear this answer.
“I don’t want the boys to hate me,” he professes. “They are my life, Ell.”
Wow. This meltdown he’s having has nothing to do with me or how I feel. It’s about our boys. I didn’t think my heart could hurt any more than it did before, but I was wrong. It is now irreparably shattered. He is right, the boys will be devastated. I almost feel selfish that I’m pissed because I know his entire concern is our kids and not me.
“Well, I guess you better figure out what you’re going to tell them then. I don’t think they’ll want to hear ‘Sorry, boys, I just don’t love your mom anymore and there’s this hot piece of ass I have my eye on, so I’m going after it,’” I fume. I stand quickly, backing away from him.
“Ell, it’s not like that at all,” he starts, but I shake my head vigorously, stopping his explanation.
“I don’t want to know any more details, Justin,” I begin. “You’ve made your point crystal clear for me. You don’t love me anymore, you want to bang someone else who you’ve already been building a relationship with behind my back, and you are afraid the boys will hate you when they find out. Got it. My suggestion is that you take a few days to figure out how you want to tell them.”
I turn toward the stairs to hide until he leaves, but his next words stop me in my tracks.
“I do love you, Ell, I always have, but I need more. This is just not enough anymore,” he expresses, while shifting his hand back and forth between the two of us.
I walk toward him quickly, and before I even register what I’m doing, I bring my hand across his face as hard as I can muster.
“Fuck you! I’ve given you and our boys MY LIFE Justin! My whole world revolves around you and our family. I’ve done nothing with my life but raise our boys and take care of you and our home. If THAT is not enough for you, then . . .” I choke out and then feel myself breaking. I cover my mouth with my hands as the sobs tear through me. He tries to put his arms around me in comfort and I push back against him as hard as I can. He’s almost twice my size, so he doesn’t go far, but he goes willingly.
“Don’t you ever touch me again. Don’t pretend for one goddamn minute that you care that you just ripped my heart out and threw it away after twenty-one years of marriage,” I scream at him, watching as tears roll down his face.
“I do care, damn it! Don’t you see this is killing me!” he yells back, once again trying to pull me to him.
I push against him again and start hitting his chest with my fists. He doesn’t stop me; he just lets me hit him until all the energy is drained out of me. I slump to the floor in front of him. He drops back down beside me and grabs my hands, but I’m just too tired to fight him anymore.
“Just go, Justin. I won’t stop you. Go to her if she makes you happy,” I choke out, before pulling my hands away from him and getting up to go upstairs. He nods but doesn’t attempt to get up.
When I get to the foot of the stairs, I turn to him. He’s still hanging his head in his hands. My beautiful
Justin, so big and strong, with his beautiful blond hair and beautiful brown eyes. He somehow looks unfamiliar to me now though, like I don’t know him at all and my whole life has been a lie.
“I wish I had been enough for you,” I whisper, but he hears me because his head turns to me, tears running down his face.
“I’m sorry, Ellie,” he sobs out.
“Go,” I reply, turning and running up the stairs as fast as my legs will take me.
SIX MONTHS AGO, life as I knew it changed and a lot has happened since then. The twins didn’t talk to their dad for a couple of months after he told them he was moving out. They were pissed. Destry still hasn’t forgiven him, although he has at least been civil to him lately when he drops by. I’m sure the motorcycle he got him for his seventeenth birthday a few months ago helped with the attitude change. For their sake, I’m hoping they can repair their relationship. With Destry leaving in a few months to go away for college, I’m afraid if Justin doesn’t fix it soon, it’ll be too late for them. None of the boys have been to their dad’s new place yet, and I haven’t asked if he lives alone. I don’t really want to know. We haven’t discussed divorce yet and I guess somewhere in the back of my mind I’m hopeful he will come home. It makes me feel pathetic.
Justin told the boys he was away on business for the first three days after he left our home. I didn’t get out of bed during those days, faking the flu so the boys wouldn’t hang out with me too much and wouldn’t know how truly pitiful I was being. After Justin moved out and we officially separated, I was a mess. I’d gotten pregnant with the twins at the end of our senior year of high school, and Justin and I had married a week after graduation. I’d been a stay-at-home mom ever since. The fear I felt about not having Justin’s income scared me half to death. How was I going to support me and three boys, boys who ate enough to feed a third-world country, when I had no job and no skills to get a job?
I refused to talk to Justin for the first couple of weeks after he moved out. I just needed time to hate him. He finally stopped calling and texting obsessively and just started sending messages like, “I paid the mortgage,” and “I left you a check in the mailbox for bills and groceries.” It was around then I realized how much I hated that he had to do that and how much I didn’t want to rely on him for those things anymore.
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