It Matters To Me (The Wandering Hearts Book 2)

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It Matters To Me (The Wandering Hearts Book 2) Page 1

by Wendy Owens




  *companion series can be read as stand alones or series

  Adult/NA Romance

  The Wandering Hearts Series (companions)

  Do Anything

  It Matters To Me

  Stubborn Love Series (companions)

  Stubborn Love

  Only In Dreams

  The Luckiest

  YA Romance

  Wash Me Away

  Clean YA Paranormal

  The Sacred Guardians Series (completed):

  Sacred Bloodlines

  Unhallowed Curse

  The Shield Prophecy

  The Lost Years

  The Guardians Crown

  NA Paranormal

  The Tynder Crown Chronicles

  Burning Destiny (coming 2016)

  Blazing Moon (coming 2016)

  Blood Spark (coming tbd)

  It Matters to Me

  Copyright 2016 by Wendy Owens

  Cover design by Regina Wamba of Mae I Design, www.maeidesign.com

  Interior book design by Stacey Blake of Champagne Formats

  Editing services by Amy Donnelly

  Proofreading services provided by Jessica Nelson of Rare Bird Editing

  All Rights Reserved.

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, copied or transmitted, in any form without the prior written permission of the author of this book.

  This book is a pure work of fiction. The names, characters, or any other content within is a product of the author’s imagination. Any similar names to reality are purely coincidence and should not be taken as factual.

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Books By Wendy Owens

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Quote

  chapter one

  chapter two

  chapter three

  chapter four

  chapter five

  chapter six

  chapter seven

  chapter eight

  chapter nine

  chapter ten

  chapter eleven

  chapter twelve

  chapter thirteen

  chapter fourteen

  chapter fifteen

  chapter sixteen

  chapter seventeen

  chapter eighteen

  chapter nineteen

  chapter twenty

  chapter twenty-one

  chapter twenty-two

  chapter twenty-three

  chapter twenty-four

  chapter twenty-five

  chapter twenty-six

  chapter twenty-seven

  chapter twenty-eight

  chapter twenty-nine

  chapter thirty

  chapter thirty-one

  chapter thirty-two

  chapter thirty-three

  chapter thirty-four

  chapter thirty-five

  chapter thirty-six

  chapter thirty-seven

  chapter thirty-eight

  chapter thirty-nine

  chapter forty

  chapter forty-one

  chapter forty-two

  chapter forty-three

  chapter forty-four

  chapter forty-five

  chapter forty-six

  chapter forty-seven

  chapter forty-eight

  chapter forty-nine

  chapter fifty

  chapter fifty-one

  chapter fifty-two

  acknowledgments

  about the author

  Books By Wendy Owens

  For my husband, Josh -

  Thank you for never letting me give up. Oh yeah, and for letting me break up with you, kill you, and many naughtier and dirtier things over and over again in my stories. You’re the best book boyfriend inspiration of all time.

  “Do not follow where the path may lead. Go instead where there is no path and leave a trail” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

  MY HEART ACHES, TIRED OF being closed up like a fist. I wrinkle my nose, contemplating the questions that have been on my mind since the airport. If this is love, then why is it so hard? Why does it feel like I’m swimming against the current, only to fight my way to the place I will drown?

  “I’m begging you Kenz, don’t start,” he says, making my face flush hot.

  “Don’t start?” The words growl from deep inside of me.

  His eyes roll back in his head briefly before he returns his focus to the video game glaring from the screen in the dimly lit room. He’s choosing to ignore me, rather than respond. I move my body between him and the TV, my arms crossed tightly over my chest.

  “This was why you couldn’t pick me up at the airport?” I wave a hand at the controller in his hand, but I know this isn’t the real reason I’m angry with him.

  His body slumps and his head drops back, resting against the back of the tattered couch that has been in his parents’ basement since he was in junior high school.

  “I told you, I got off late, there was no way I could have made it there in time,” he explains again, clearly frustrated.

  “Come on, that’s such bull and you know it,” I snap back.

  “It’s not. We had a VIP come in last min—“

  I interrupt him with my laughter.

  The controller slips out of his hand, his hard brow narrowing as he growls, “What’s so funny?”

  “VIP? You’re a freaking grease monkey, Ben.” I wish I hadn’t called him that. I’m actually quite proud of how hard he works.

  “Jesus Kenz, why do you have to talk such shit to me?”

  I release a sigh. “I’m just saying, let’s not pretend you’re changing the world or something.” I want to hurt him with my words. I want to cut him as deep as his incessant voluntary obliviousness cuts me. It seems like he doesn’t care about anything.

  He’s biting his lip and I can tell this is him trying not to yell. I wish he would yell. Then maybe it would look like he gave a damn about us. “It was one of my dad’s best customers.”

  “And you were the only one who could what—change his oil?”

  His head snaps up. “He owns a fleet of Town Cars. When he needs taken care of, someone has to do it. I’m sorry if that meant you had to take a cab home, but the world can’t always revolve around you.”

  I bite my lip for a moment, then squeeze the flesh of my arms to resist wrapping my slender fingers around his thick throat. “I never claimed the world revolved around me.”

  “You don’t have to!” He interjects. I’m pleased I’ve at least gotten a rise out of him. “Everyone knows, Kenzie snaps her fingers, and the world is expected to jump.”

  “Screw you! It doesn’t make me needy because I want to feel important once in a while.” I argue.

  He blows a puff of air through his lips. “Really? I can’t believe you’re even saying this stuff to me right now.”

  “I’m so over—” I stop myself. There’s so much more I want to say. So many more things I thought of on the way here from the airport. I can’t remember what life was like before Ben, but I can’t help feeling like we’re getting further and further away from our happily ever after. The dreams w
e once shared have turned into broken promises, and I have trouble pretending things are okay anymore. He doesn’t understand; it’s not a matter of not loving him… it’s a matter of not loving him enough. Or maybe it’s not being loved enough in return. Hell, I’m not even sure I know.

  “You’re unbelievable!” he breathes. “I’ve given you everything, it’s never enough, though, is it?”

  My laugh sounds more like a snarl. “Wow, this is everything?” I ask, waving around at his parents’ basement.

  “You know this is temporary,” Ben reminds me for the umpteenth time.

  Throwing my hands up in frustration they slap my thighs as they come back down. “I’ve been hearing that for years. Maybe I was wrong, maybe you have even less to give me than I thought.”

  “God, why do you have to be such a—” he stops.

  “Such a what Ben?” I demand.

  “Forget it,” he mutters.

  “No come on, you’re doing so great, let’s not hold back now.”

  “We’re really doing this?” he asks.

  There’s a pulsing in my brain. I can’t think straight. I don’t even know what I’m saying as my mouth opens. “You know, I could be like Anna.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Jack screwed things up, and she went out and found her happiness.” The moment the words leave my lips I know they’ll wreck him. That’s not what I want. At least, I don’t think it is.

  He stands up, his eyes are wide, his nostrils flared. If it were any other man standing in front of me, I would think he was about to strike me with those balled fists at his side, but not my Ben. He would never physically hurt me. I know he loves me, but I can’t help wondering if he loves me in the way I need him to.

  Sucking in a breath of air I watch the tension in his strong shoulders relax slightly, “I have never messed around on you,” he says at last. And I know he wouldn’t. He was disgusted when he found out Jack had cheated on Annabelle right before the wedding. There’s pain in his eyes. I know I’ve gone too far.

  I shake my head.

  “What?” he huffs as I step backward.

  Here. Now. At this moment, I know I’m making a decision that will change my life forever. I suppose I’ve known it was coming for months. I feel like my heart is being shredded inside my chest, and the only way to stop the pain is to say the words; the words that terrify me. The words, “I’m leaving.”

  “Really? You’re just going to run out in the middle of a fight. Typical,” he grunts.

  “No,” I shake my head. My voice is soft. There’s no more anger, only a sense of resolution. I can see he hears it too. “I’m leaving you.”

  “What do you mean?” he questions, squinting at me. I want to lean in. Kiss his lips one last time. Have his strong arms wrap around me for only one last, but brief moment, so I don’t forget the feel of them, but I know I can’t.

  “I can’t do this anymore,” I answer simply, turning and walking to the exit.

  “Is this about the marriage thing again?” He calls after me.

  I stop at the base of the steps and glance back at him. He looks sweet and innocent with his wide dark eyes. I can’t help but smile, remembering the good parts of this life we shared.

  “Goodbye Ben,” I say in a near whisper as I begin climbing the creaky, dirt-stained, green shag-carpeted stairs for what I now know will be the last time.

  “Fine!” He shouts, the desperation and confusion mingling with anger in his tone. “Leave! But don’t think for one minute you can just come back to me, Kenz. You walk out that door, and we’re done! I’m not playing these games anymore.”

  I know he doesn’t mean his words, but I mean every bit of my actions. The spiteful part of me wants to tell him he’s won, but I say nothing. I can’t keep living my life in neutral.

  Closing my eyes, I pause at the top of the steps and take a deep breath. Preparing myself for the life on the other side. The reality that once I cross that threshold onto the seventies brown linoleum tile of Ben’s parents’ kitchen floor, I’ve made the choice—the choice that I won’t be spending the rest of my life with this man. I open the basement door and close it behind me for the last time.

  “Everything alright?” Ben’s mom asks. From her lips that are strained into a frown, I know she’s heard part of our argument. She’s standing at the kitchen sink, pouring a hot pot of water and noodles into a colander. As the cloud of steam envelopes her face, I watch the moisture settle in all the fine lines. She’s lived a hard life. Her face is a roadmap that reveals just how hard. She once was something special, anyone can see that, but I could always tell she lost something along the way. Something that had once made her extraordinary. I’m terrified of becoming her.

  I smile, nod, “I’ll see ya later Karen.” She likes when I call her by her first name. It makes her feel young again, she once told me.

  Turning to the back door, I unlock the deadbolt, the yellowed floral curtain brushing across the top of my hand. I pause, close my eyes, and take in the scents around me. There’s a mixture of cooking grease and motor oil in the air. Ben’s house has always smelled like this. It makes me smile.

  I continue, leaving Ben’s house from the kitchen door. Karen says something to me, but I can’t hear her. I’m too busy moving forward into my new life. My heart is racing. This is it. I think. I pass by the overgrown rose bushes, down the concrete path to the chain link fence that leads to the alleyway behind Ben’s parents’ home.

  We’ve been together since our sophomore year in college. This is the first night sky I’ve seen as a single woman since I was a freshman. Somehow it looks different. Perhaps the stars are brighter? Or maybe I have been too busy staring into Ben’s eyes to notice how amazing the stars are. I’m tired of being the girl that’s always waiting for life to start, floating from one meaningless job to the next—

  Job. That’s right! I remember suddenly. I was so pissed off at Ben I completely forgot about the fact that I quit my most recent mistake of a career choice as a waitress when my boss Conroy refused to give me time off to fly to England. I explained to him I had no choice, my best friend was having a baby, and there was no way I wasn’t going to be there. Conroy didn’t seem to recognize the same urgency in the situation that I did.

  As I walk down the dark alley, the occasional random noise makes me jump. The excitement of my new found freedom fades slightly as I take stock of my situation.

  I’m unemployed.

  Life’s problems got a little easier to figure out when Anna left for England. She needed to sell her condo, the place Jack had had the affair in, the place she couldn’t stand to be anymore, and I was more than happy to live there rent free while she was finding herself halfway around the world. But all that changed. Anna’s condo is sold. Living at home is no longer an option since my mom has warned me to get a job or get out.

  I’m newly single for the first time…ever.

  I have no idea what I want to do with my life.

  I’ve wandered a few aimless blocks when I feel the first raindrop. Ugh, of course. I pass the diner Ben and I frequent, pausing briefly before continuing in a sprint, trying to outrun the storm. I’ll find another favorite diner. A new place. My own place.

  A neon open sign, glowing like a beacon of hope in the night, grabs my attention. Grady’s Diner. I’ve never eaten there because it looks like a place that would be featured in an episode of Kitchen Nightmares, but the pounding rain has me reconsidering my stance on the establishment. I pause at the door, looking at my reflection in the glass, pushing my wet, red hair—that is plastered to my forehead—back and out of my face.

  Taking a deep breath before I open the door of Grady’s, I notice a handwritten sign.

  Help Wanted

  Waitress

  Short order cook

  Apply inside

  Is this fate? I wonder briefly. Jesus, I was a terrible waitress, and I’m quite certain I’d be an even worse cook. I laugh to myse
lf and open the door, sliding my wet self into the closest available booth. The place is surprisingly busy, and I wonder if I’ve misjudged. I move my arms across the tabletop until my sleeve catches on something. Lifting it, I realize it has settled on something sticky. Gross! No, I definitely did not misjudge.

  “Oh, hey sweetie,” a woman with tight curls, too much makeup, and a name tag that reads Joan says walking over to my table with a rag. “Let me get that for you.”

  She wipes the surface of the table, then nods to my side. “Want me to pitch that for you too?” I look over to see a crumpled, food-stained newspaper. I can see the classifieds are on top.

  I place my hand on the top of the pile, careful to avoid what looks like bits of pancake. “I’ve got it, thanks.”

  She tilts her head and delivers a long blink before pulling out her little pad and nub of a pencil. She chomps obnoxiously on a piece of gum as she asks, “What’ll it be?” She has an accent, but it’s not one I recognize.

  A quiet place and some time to think. I look out into the night to find the rain is coming down in sheets now. “What’s good, Joan?”

  “Huh? Oh,” she snorts. “Name’s Nancy. Bastard that owns the place is too cheap to buy new name-tags. I never even met Joan.”

  Hmm… I would have pegged her more as a Joan. And I’m now for sure not applying for a job here. “How about your pie?”

  “All we got left is apple,” she answers, glancing up from her pad.

  “Then apple it is,” I answer thinking about the last $163.15 in my bank account. “Oh and coffee.”

  She walks away without a word. I waste no time, pulling the soiled newspaper and placing it in front of me, using a napkin to wipe away the remnants of food that is still stuck to it.

  A moment later Joan, Nancy, whatever her name is, is back with my coffee, pie, and a pen. She smiles at me, then glances down at the opened classified section. “Good luck, honey.”

  I smile and wish maybe I had put a little more thought into what I wanted to do with my life back when I was in college— other than be married to Ben.

 

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