by Alane Hudson
“She had some issues with Harold, you know that. He was a lousy father.” Blake gestured to the loveseat. “Have a seat.” Once Gloria had set her purse on the floor and settled comfortably in the cushions, Blake sat in a chair opposite her. Isabelle brought her a glass of chilled orange juice and set it on the coffee table in front of her.
“Thank you, dear,” Gloria said. “He might’ve been a lousy father, but he loved her. Your father wasn’t perfect either, you know. He made his share of mistakes. Big mistakes.”
“What parent hasn’t? I’m sure I’ll make my own mistakes, too, but neither of you ever alienated me by your behavior.”
“Maybe because we haven’t lived long enough yet. Blake, may I offer you one piece of advice for a happy marriage?”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His parents had been happy together, so Blake would welcome any tips she might have on how to keep a marriage strong. “Please do.”
“Learn to forgive. Sarah’s going to make mistakes, and you will too. If you can forgive each other and refuse to let those mistakes frame your relationship, you can fix the underlying problems before everything falls apart.”
Blake wondered what mistakes his dad had made that Gloria forgave. He didn’t think she would ever forgive cheating. “That’s good advice, Mom. Some mistakes are deal-breakers, though, like physical violence.”
“Abuse isn’t a mistake, sweetheart. It’s a mental illness and a crime. I’m talking about the kinds of mistakes that plague otherwise loving couples.”
“Like spending more money than we make?”
“Among other things, yes. You’ve got to be tolerant, you’ve got to be flexible, and you’ve got to be willing to forgive. And it’s equally important to forgive yourself when you stumble. Don’t let guilt consume you and leave you vulnerable. Your father did, and it gave him all those ulcers.”
He remembered his father always having to see a doctor, always taking pills. One year, when Blake was sixteen, his dad had to have emergency surgery to close an ulcer that was hemorrhaging. “I didn’t realize Dad felt guilty about something. Do you know what it was?”
Gloria studied him for a moment as if to decide how much to reveal. “Yes, I do. I don’t want to sully your image of him, but it was a mistake he only made once, I forgave him, and our marriage grew stronger after that.” She took a sip of orange juice and stroked the stem of the glass absently. “He still let it bother him, though, and that was my fault.”
“How would it be your fault that he felt guilty for his mistake?”
“My fault for not telling him I forgave him. Forgiveness is a powerful thing, not just for the person forgiving but for the one being forgiven. I didn’t realize that until it was too late.”
Blake nodded, thinking of Sarah and her reaction to hearing that her father had forgiven her. After her initial shock and grief, she’d had the epiphany that opened the way to forgiving herself.
He wondered if Andrea could forgive Sean for what he’d done to her. Maybe now with a devoted fiancé by her side, one who’d married her once and was eager to do it again—for real—she could forgive him and finally heal the wound that festered inside her.
“Your father had an affair, Blake.”
His mouth dropped open in surprise. “You knew?”
Gloria’s did too. “You knew?”
“Dad told me right before he died. How long have you known?”
“I found out shortly after he got home from the trip to Boston, where it happened. I was so angry, I packed us up and went to stay with my mom for a while, to cool my head.”
“I remember that, but I didn’t know that was why we went.” They’d stayed with his grandmother for nearly three weeks that summer. He’d pouted and complained that he was missing football camp, certain all the other boys were getting valuable experience and training that, come fall, would get them on the field and leave him warming the bench. That hadn’t been the case, but his worrying about it had made that trip seem like the longest grandmother visit in the history of the world.
“Yes, I even considered divorcing him, but in the end, I decided to tough it out for your sake and keep an eye on your father after that. One more slip, one tiny smudge of lipstick on his collar, and I was done. It never happened again. He spent the rest of his life making it up to me, and from that point on, it was his mission to make me feel valued and cherished.”
Even while he was in the hospital bleeding on the inside from guilt. Blake shook his head, still struggling to believe she’d known all this time. “Did he tell you, or did you figure it out?”
“I found a letter in his office that he’d written to the woman. Anna was her name. In the letter, he called their night together a mistake and apologized for his behavior and for letting her think there could ever be anything between them. He wrote that he loved his wife and son and would do anything to keep his family together. That meant reaffirming his marriage vows and dedicating himself to strengthening his marriage.”
Now Blake wished he’d read the letter Richard had given him before he burned it. He’d assumed it would be the opposite—lusty and unrepentant. “I take it you didn’t destroy the letter.”
“No, I let him send it, hoping this Anna woman wouldn’t pursue him. The point is that I forgave him, and I should have told him so. I’m telling you this with the hope that someday, when you or Sarah are angry enough to call it quits, you’ll remember that sometimes people make mistakes and they hurt us, even when they don’t mean to. During the toughest times, try to move toward each other instead of away, and I’m confident you’ll have a long and happy marriage.”
“Um, well, Mom, that’s why I asked you to come over.”
Her face fell. “What’s going on?”
“Sarah and I are having the marriage annulled.”
“Blake, no.” Her eyes welled with tears. “You’ve only just started. You’re right for each other. I was there. I saw it.” He tried to interject, but she wasn’t hearing him. “I saw how you kissed, I saw the love in your eyes when you got back from Hawaii and in all those pictures. Honey, what you have is special. Whatever happened—”
“Mom,” Blake said more firmly. “Mom, wait. Hear me out, and I think you’ll agree. Hear us out.” He stood. “Sweetheart, would you come out here?”
Andrea came into the room chewing her bottom lip and twisting her hands together. He went around behind the loveseat, put his arm around her, and guided her to stand next to the coffee table where Gloria could see her.
“Sarah, thank goodness,” Gloria said. “I’m so glad you came back. You two need to sit down and talk through your differences.”
“Mom, this isn’t Sarah. This is my fiancée, Andrea.”
Andrea tried on a smile, but it looked more guilty than salutational. Her right shoulder hunched up nearly to her ear, and she tilted her head in that shy but sexy way she had. “Hi, Gloria.”
Gloria looked from one to the other. “This is some kind of joke.”
“It’s not a joke,” Blake said. “Andrea was with me at the rehearsal dinner. Andrea was my gorgeous bride on the altar. Andrea went with me to Hawaii. If it looked like Sarah and I were in love, it’s because Andrea and I are in love.”
“My goodness. You’re twins?”
“No,” Andrea said, “we’re unrelated. Sarah and I met the week before the wedding. She hired me to play her part.”
“I don’t understand.” Gloria shook her head slowly. “Harold gave you away. Are you saying he didn’t know his own daughter?”
“He wasn’t paying much attention,” Andrea said, “and I was wearing green contact lenses and used make up to make me look more like Sarah.”
“Why would you do such a thing?”
“It’s a long story.” Blake gestured to the chair he’d vacated. When Andrea had taken a seat, he scooted the adjacent chair closer and sat down, then took her hand, his mind eased and his heart warmed by the engagement ring on her finger. “I
t all started twenty-some years ago when Dad had that fling with a woman named Anna. Anna Gentry.”
Gloria gasped. “Oh, my word.”
At the door, Gloria held Andrea in a tight embrace, rocking side to side. When she pulled back, she said, “I’m so glad you two worked it out so you could stay together.”
Andrea nodded her agreement. “We have Sarah to thank for agreeing to the annulment.”
“And Harold for suggesting it,” Blake said. He hugged his mother and kissed her cheek.
“Where do your parents live, Andrea? Have you told them?”
“They live in Phoenix now, and no.” She looked up at Blake. “I’d like to take a trip out there soon to introduce my fiancé. They’re going to love you.”
“Whenever you like. Book it for tomorrow if you want to. We can spend the weekend with them.”
“I can’t wait to meet them,” Gloria said. “Are you two going to have another wedding?”
Andrea and Blake looked at each other. “We haven’t talked about it,” Blake said, “but whatever she wants is fine with me. As long as she says ‘I do.’”
They said their good-byes, and Blake promised to call later to talk business. They watched her get into the back of her limousine, and when the car’s taillights disappeared down the curved driveway, they returned to the family room and sat together on the loveseat.
“That went well, I thought,” Andrea said. Gloria had been surprisingly understanding, though she’d admonished Blake harshly for marrying Sarah under duress.
“Yeah, but you didn’t get yelled at.”
She laughed. “Not yet. When my parents hear our story, I might.”
“I was serious about going out to Phoenix this weekend. I can’t wait to meet your parents. Does your dad watch football?”
Andrea snorted. That was pretty much all her parents ever did on the weekends during the fall. As a child, she would be awoken at six o’clock in the morning on Saturdays so that the family could get chores done and do the shopping before kickoff. It was one reason she’d turned to books. “All Saturday long, and most of the day Sunday. I’ll bet you’re dying to get caught up on the games you missed while we were in Hawaii.”
He shrugged, though she caught the twinkle in his eye. “Oh, I don’t care, really. Just thinking about something I could bond with him over.”
“Mom is the real football geek of the house, believe it or not. She’s always rattling off player stats and team records.”
“A woman after my own heart.”
“I can imagine the three of you, dressed in your jerseys and eye black, screaming at the TV all weekend. I’ll bring my ereader and curl up on the patio.”
Carol Carpenter’s soulful voice began to sing, “The taste of whiskey on my tongue,” on Andrea’s phone.
“Ugh,” she said. “Not again.”
“Who’s that?” Blake asked.
“Dulls the taste of pain in my heart.”
Andrea looked at the screen, wondering how long he would keep interrupting her life before he gave up. He’d been persistent when they were dating, so she might have to break down sooner or later and talk to him. “Sean. He’s called three times since he saw me at the rehearsal. You’d think he would get the message by now. I don’t want to talk to you,” she said to the phone.
“When did you stop loving me?”
Blake picked it up and handed it to her. “Maybe it’s time you did.”
The singing stopped, and Andrea knew he was probably leaving another message that she would delete before it finished playing. “I don’t want to talk to him. Ever.”
“I know, but you have found love. You don’t have to let him hurt you anymore.”
His words rang true, but she didn’t want to admit that, two years later, he was still hurting her. She’d cried buckets of tears over that jerk, and though she didn’t cry anymore, she couldn’t deny the pain she felt every time he called. “I don’t know how to stop it.”
“Talk to him. Hear his apology. Your life is better now because you didn’t marry him, right?”
She nodded. “Much, much better.”
“If you can forgive him for what he did, then you can put it behind you.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You weren’t left at the altar by the person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.”
“No, but I was forced to marry a woman I didn’t love, a woman who would never find me even the slightest bit desirable. I forgave Sarah for her deception, and now I can throw myself completely into us without fearing that you’ll stop desiring me.”
She looked into his eyes, knowing he was right. If she didn’t confront Sean and put him behind her, she would continue to worry that every argument she and Blake had, every time he was late meeting her for something, would mean he was ditching her. That wasn’t how she wanted to live, and it wasn’t how she wanted Blake to live. Having to constantly reassure her because of what another man had done wasn’t fair to him. “I’m scared,” she said, her voice small. “I don’t want to cry anymore.”
“It’s okay to cry.”
She fidgeted with the phone in her hands, wiped off the screen. “I want to move past it, but I don’t know if I can talk to him.”
“You fought off three guys trying to abduct you. You can do this.”
She shot him a half-smile. “I had Hank to help me.”
“And now you have me. I’ll stay here with you if you want. I’ll be your Hank.”
Andrea leaned in and kissed his lips. “God, I love you.”
“And I love you. I believe in you. I’m here for you. That’s what love is. That’s what love does.”
He was right again. Sean had never loved her the way Blake did. He only loved his mental image of her. He only loved the woman he wanted her to be.
“Draw the line in the dirt,” Blake said, “and then make the call.”
She took a steadying breath and dialed Sean’s number with a trembling finger, feeling both nervous and excited. When she lifted the phone to her ear, Blake took her free hand in his warm and strong one and wrapped his other arm around her shoulders.
“Hello?” Sean said.
“Hello, Sean. It’s Andrea.”
“Hey. I’m so glad you finally called back. I was beginning to think you didn’t want to talk to me.”
“I don’t, but apparently you have something you need to say, so go ahead and say it so I can put you in my past for good.”
Blake smiled at her and nodded.
“Okay, I get it. I hurt you pretty badly, and you want to make me bleed a little. That’s fine. I deserve it.”
“You devastated me, Sean, but mostly you disrespected me. It was the meanest, most awful thing anyone has ever done to me.” Aside from trying to kidnap me, she thought, but she didn’t want to go into it with him. “That’s how you’re going to be remembered. Does it make you feel good to know that?”
“No,” he whined. “I feel awful about it. I was an immature ass, and I think about it every day.”
Andrea waited for him to go on, but his pause stretched longer and longer. “Well? Is that all you wanted to say?”
“Yeah, mostly. One sec.” Some paper rustled in the background. “I’m sorry for what I did.” His tone had the flat quality of someone who was reading from a page rather than speaking from the heart. “I treated you badly, and I’m so sorry. Leaving you at the altar was a cowardly thing to do. I was a boy who wasn’t ready to be a man yet. You didn’t deserve that kind of disrespectful and demeaning treatment, especially from someone who was supposed to love and protect you. I apologize from the bottom of my heart.” His voice broke near the end, and he sniffled. Was he crying?
She was glad to hear the remorse in his voice. Glad and relieved, and filled with a warm glow of satisfaction. After two years, she’d finally heard the apology she’d needed to hear, and how freeing it was!
Now it was up to her. With eyes burning, she gazed up at Blake, who pulled her closer
to him. He was the opposite of Sean in so many ways. His presence gave her strength and courage. It was time to put the past behind her. Armed with the love of a real man, Andrea was ready to step over the line. “I forgive you,” she said. “That doesn’t make what you did okay, but you can’t hurt me anymore.”
As soon as she said it, she felt a lightness in her chest she’d never expected. If only she’d said it two years ago instead of suffering under the weight of the pain. Above all, she felt what she could only describe as gratitude—for Blake’s sturdy presence that gave her the courage to call, and for the courage it took Sean to apologize for what he’d done.
Sean exhaled heavily. “Thank you for that. I won’t bother you anymore, but Andrea, I just want to say one last thing. You deserve a happy life with a great guy. I hope you find it.”
“I already have. Bye, Sean. Take care.” She hung up and hugged Blake tightly. She was free. “It’s over. It’s finally over.”
“Andrea, you did great. I’m really proud of you.” He kissed her neck before pulling back to look into her eyes. “Did you say everything you needed to say?”
“I did. You were right. Forgiveness is a powerful thing—so liberating. It felt like my soul was trapped under a rock, and you came along and pulled it off.”
“That wasn’t me, babe,” Blake said. “That was you. All you needed was someone who believed you could push that rock off by yourself.”
“All I needed was you.”
The End.
Just a little note from the author
I’m thrilled that you decided to try my book, and I hope you’ve found a few hours of enjoyment within these pages or pixels. As a lover of stories, I read and love many genres. Though I mostly write fantasy and science fiction, now and then, I get ideas for romance novels. That doesn't happen for thrillers or horror, though I read those genres quite a bit. Sometimes, story ideas become nagging obsessions, and all other stories take a position on the back burner while the new obsession gets written. Such was the case with this story.