by Nancy Adams
“Of course,” she said eagerly, and then paused, trying to reel herself back in, “If you don’t mind that is. I thought,” she shrugged, “I assumed that once I told you that I was pregnant you’d bounce,” she chuckled nervously. “I wouldn’t have held it against you. I mean,” she looked down at herself with disgust. “Look at me.”
Brett smiled. “I do. Often.”
Tina squirmed beneath his gaze. “Don’t you care that I’m pregnant?” Brett nodded. “Does it not bother you?”
Pursing his lips in thought, Brett took a moment to answer. “I don’t think I really know how I feel about it.” He offered after a while. “I’m not really surprised though,” Brett added softly. “I think I thought about it when you said you were nauseous and not feeling well but,” he shrugged, shaking his head slightly.
“You didn’t sound like this could even be a possibility so I didn’t really give it much thought,” he paused for a brief moment, “until you started acting weird after your appointment. Then I began to worry,” he let out a round laugh. “If you were a month pregnant I’d be a bit more concerned.”
Tina chuckled. “I don’t even remember sleeping with him.” Watching Brett’s face, her own began to tingle with heat. “That sounded weird.”
Smiling, Brett shrugged a response. They stared at each other, twinkles and sparks igniting in their eyes. They were oblivious to the settling silence, save for the occasional road sounds of a passing car or large vehicle.
With a growing grin, Brett walked his fingers across the top of the picnic table towards Tina. He locked his fingers with Tina’s hands in a slow fashion, watching her face brighten. The butterflies were back. They started as a small bubble in her stomach that swelled and spread throughout her body.
Brett leaned towards her, pulling her chin towards his face. The tender flesh of their lips met, instantly stealing Tina’s breath away. Her mind raced with a dozen different thoughts while her mouth pulsed in a slow rhythm against Brett’s skin.
Stroking the side of her face, Brett let his mouth travel to Tina’s neck where he nipped at her skin. Moving his lips towards her ear, he whispered, “Would you remember if you slept with me?”
Tina giggled, turning towards him. “Are you serious?”
Brett laughed, flashing gorgeous white teeth at her. “No, I was joking,” he paused, “I’m lying I’m completely serious.”
A wry smile crept across Tina’s face. “Of course I’d remember.” With a smirked, she leaned towards Brett, pressing herself into him with another passionate kiss.
Tina always thought that she’d be rewarded for doing the right thing. For being kind and right and being a sweet husband. She decided that she didn’t believe in good getting rewarded anymore. If that were the case, her life would have panned out differently. Instead of being locked in a jail cell of a marriage, she would have been happily in love with John; but his time had come and gone. She wasn’t playing by the rules anymore. Never again.
John: Chasing
Chapter Seven
Pacing the kitchen, John practiced a counting routine the therapist had shared with him for managing his anger. Down from ten, and then back up from one. Repeat. It didn’t matter that how many times he repeated the process. He was already on the second set. It seemed pretty stupid at first, but now he had begun to swear by it. He had joined a gym and started learning about better nutrition.
Breathing didn’t hurt anymore and being sad didn’t feel like the end of the world; but, he was far from being happy. His schedule after work didn’t yield much time for him to see his wife. In fact, he felt like he had begun to see her even less than before.
She still ignored his texts and had recently stopped answering his phone calls. Another month had come and gone, and it felt like the blink of an eye. Stephanie assured him that working on the self was a necessary first step towards repairing his marriage.
After his last session, he decided that Stephanie simply must not consider his marriage worth salvaging or attempting to work out with him because she effectively managed to dodge the subject every week. After a few Google searches, John happened upon several marriage advice articles that really offered him hope.
He stood in the kitchen now, trying to keep himself calm for when Tina arrived. He had a book in his hands—not really, but nearly twenty college-ruled hand-written pages of hurts and wrongs he had committed against his wife.
In his mind, he saw the night unfolding two ways. In one scenario, she listened merrily to the list and collapsed into another puddle of happy tears at his progress. In the other, she refused to listen to him, tore the pages up in his face and stomped off to the bedroom.
At this point, he really wasn’t sure which way the night could go, but his gut told him it wasn’t likely going to be scenario one. It had been nearly four days since he had even seen her at the house. Stephanie was always quick to pacify his concerns with platitudes like “90% of what we fear doesn’t happen”, but his concerns and fears for another man were completely reasonable.
No woman ever needs to stay gone as much as Tina did. Her job didn’t make much to keep her late past decent working hours; and, even if they did work her late, he was sure she would at least let him know if he meant anything to her. Her silence day after day only confirmed his worst fears.
John stopped in front of the kitchen island, looking over the pages he had written. He read over his handwriting, his gut sinking as he relieved the painful years of his marriage.
Writing the list had been beyond difficult. It shamed him to think that he could have been so selfish and self-serving in his marriage, but he pushed through, racking his brain until he could think of every little bit he could have ever done to hurt her.
Of course, he had to work on forgiving himself but he wasn’t quite there yet either. He reasoned that he could probably forgive himself a little easier if Tina could forgive him first, but only time would tell.
He heard the jingle of keys. Instantly, his body grew tense. The door knob jiggled. He grabbed the papers, assorting them in his hands and faced the door.
When Tina stepped through the door, his stomach sunk. There it was again—that damn smirking smile of lingering happiness from whatever-his-name-was—John forced a smile as Tina turned towards him. Her grin was gone instantly. Ten.
“I know you’re probably tired,” John began.
“Fatigued.” Tina said curtly. She paused at the door, closing it slowly. Turning back to John, she eyed the papers in her hand, then looked down to her own purse.
Nine.
“Can we talk?” John offered, trying to coat his voice in the smoothest calm.
Tina nodded, her face serious. “Actually, it’s great that you’re up. I have something for you.”
Eight.
John hesitated, unsure if he should ask about her comment or not. He decided he preferred to go first. “Can I share something with you first?”
A flicker of annoyance. “Sure. Just make it quick. Remember, I’m really tired.”
Seven.
John glanced down at the papers in his hands. She didn’t know about his visit to the therapist, the changes in his diet or the exercise he was doing to help himself. He had even sought out an AA meeting at the therapist’s prompting. “I have a list here,” he began timidly.
Six.
“I realized that,” John paused, his chest beginning to tighten. Tina adjusted her stance, crossing her arms. She was four months pregnant now and the little bump was finally starting to show.
Five.
“I know that the last several months have been hard on you.” John began, “I know that I’ve hurt you a lot too.”
Tina held up her hand. Time up.
Four.
“John, I really don’t have time for this—”
He squeezed his eyes shut. “Can you please give me just five minutes of your time?” He stared into his wife’s eyes. He saw the beautiful sparkling emerald marbles he had fallen in
love with so many years ago.
Three.
Tina’s face twitched. “I gave you five years,” she said flatly. She didn’t wait for a response. Opening her purse, she paused, then reached in and pulled out a white envelope. She closed the purse and let it hang at her elbow. Holding the envelope with two hands, she turned it around slowly, hesitant to meet John’s eyes.
Two.
She took a deep breath before facing John again. “He saw emptiness. “I went ahead and filed.” She stepped forward with one foot, holding the envelope out. When John failed to take it, she let it drop to the floor in between them. It smacked the floor.
One.
Tina stepped back, keeping the distance between them. “I don’t love you anymore, John,” she said softly.
John blinked. He saw her lips move, but when she spoke, the sound seemed delayed, slow, and beyond unnatural.
“I think you have every right to be involved in our daughter’s life—”
“You know the sex?”
Tina nodded. “I had a sonogram three weeks ago.”
John clenched his jaw shut. In his free hand, he made a fist so tight his arm shook; Tina didn’t notice.
“I would never keep you from your daughter but,” she paused, “I think we should try for a peaceful dissolution of this,” she waved a weak hand.
John tasted copper.
“We can meet with a lawyer if you like or we can work this out ourselves.”
When John moved, it was to touch his face. His forehead held a layer of sweat droplets. He stared at his hand, and then at the papers he had dropped from touching his head. His right hand was still a fist that took extensive effort to pry open.
He swallowed back grimy sand, trying to get his vocals to work as he bent down to get the papers. “Can’t we talk about this?”
Tina took a deep breath, pressing her lips together tightly. She was getting impatient and was already annoyed. “There’s nothing to talk about, John,” she said through gritted teeth.
John looked at the papers in his hand as he stood. “But I’ve been making changes—working on myself.”
“If you don’t want to work on this together then it might be better for us to get legal representation to divide our assets.”
John choked on breath caught in his throat. “But I have a list,” he held the papers out again, “I have a list of ways I want to accept,” he paused, trying to remember the article he had read earlier that day. He had read it several times and rehearsed just how he would say it but now—now all the words and phrases he had prepared failed him. “I know I’ve hurt you,” he tried to start over.
“John, are you even listening to me?” Tina asked. “I don’t love you.”
“But I still love you,” he said quickly.
Tina shook her head. She looked away, breathing heavy. When she turned back to John, her lips were tight. “John,” her eyes were emotionless, “I’ve been having an affair for two months.”
John dropped the papers again. They flittered to the ground in slow motion, the only sound his ears could register. Tina wasn’t finished.
“I’ve been having an affair and I’ve slept with him too.” She squinted her eyes. “We. Are. Through.”
3nd Book Preview
There are two sides to every story and suddenly, John doesn’t seem like such a bad guy after all. Unfortunately, it’s much too late for him…or is it? Should it matter that Tina’s currently involved in a marriage and pregnant with her husband’s baby? What about Brett, the tall, handsome man that has only ever stolen her breath away? Life is definitely not fair, forcing us to make decisions that we’ll feel the effects of until the day we die. What choice will Tina make?
Also by Nancy Adams
The BILLIONAIRES Choices
Perfect Stranger
CHASING LOVE TRILOGY:
THE OTHER MAN – Part I
TORN – Part II
TRUE LOVE – Part III (Coming Soon!)
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About the Author
I am just your typical girl. I love Starbucks, sunsets, and yoga. I dream of meeting my prince charming, and having him sweep me off my feet. I dream of one day having children, and raising them to be all that they can be (and more!). I love people, and I love life! I hope that through my writing I can spread just a little bit of that love into the lives of those I may never meet. My work isn't perfect, but it is sincere. It is heartfelt, and it is deep. I express how I feel, what I feel, and what I want to feel through my writing, and I don't know what I would do without it. The mere fact that I am able to share that with the rest of the world is simply a bonus, and I truly hope that my writing makes you happy.
Sincerely,
Nancy