by A. J. Wynter
Sneak Peek - Second Chances
***
Megan’s disappointment had grown familiar, the monthly betrayal of her body. She used to get excited when she was a few days late, rushing out to buy a pregnancy test, holding her breath and adding and deleting baby names from the ongoing list in her head, but nothing had prepared her for this kind of betrayal.
She felt that something was off with Alex; she had witnessed the rift between them widen from crack to chasm as the years had gone by. She chalked it up to the stress of daily life and the routine that came with a fifteen-year marriage.
She paced back and forth across the living room, practically wearing a trail in the Berber carpet. 'There has to be a logical explanation,' she thought to herself, the rational side of her brain trying to give Alex some credit, even though in her heart, and her gut, she knew that there was no explaining away the ultrasound baby photo clenched in her hand that she had found tucked away in the pocket of his gym bag.
The problem?
It wasn't hers.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the high-pitched whistle of the tea kettle. She pulled a white tea-stained mug out of the cupboard, her favorite, and plucked a tea bag out of the canister on the counter, but instead of dropping it into the mug, she gripped the dry bag in her fist as she doubled over on the counter into a heaving sob.
"Pull yourself together," she whispered and angrily wiped away the errant tear that had managed to fall down her cheek. She dropped the tea bag into the mug, topped it with the steaming water, then went back to pacing. When she opened the fridge to pull out the milk, one of her birthday cards that had been magnetized to the door fell to the floor and landed on her wool sock. Megan picked it up, screamed, and ripped it in half, glitter from the lettering sprinkling onto the white floor tiles. She knew that it was supposed to be funny, that her friend Amy had given it to her to make her laugh, not knowing how cruel the "Here's another year closer to Velcro shoes" saying was to her. The only Velcro shoes Megan wanted in her life were those belonging to a baby, or a toddler, not her own. She knew that at forty-three, the chances of conceiving were slim to none, but still held out hope that she would be one of the success stories she read about online.
She pulled the milk out of the fridge and shakily poured a touch into her Earl Grey tea.
She wanted to march down to his office, burst in, slam the photo down on his desk, and demand an explanation, but she still hadn't figured out what she would do when she heard the truth – that is, if he even fessed up to it.
She heard the garage door motor whir and his car pull into the garage. She slipped the photo into the back pocket of her jeans, took a deep breath to steel her nerves, then sat down at the kitchen table.
"Hi, honey." Alex breezed into the kitchen and pulled open the fridge. "Is it ever getting dark early now," he mused as he pulled a piece of cut celery out of the crisper.
"Yes. Dark." Megan took a sip of her tea, recoiling as the hot liquid hit her lips. She hadn't even noticed the afternoon turn to evening.
Alex strode over to Megan and pecked her on the cheek, "Don't worry about making me dinner, I'm going to hit the gym and then head out to meet Robbie Mason.
Robbie Mason was one of Alex's new consulting clients, and she hadn’t met him - which wasn't out of the ordinary, she rarely saw his clients face to face, they were just names on her bookkeeping spreadsheets. She had noticed that Alex had billed Robbie Mason more than double the number of hours that were typical. It seemed a little strange to her, but like so many other red flags that she saw in retrospect, she had ignored it.
She stared at her slightly balding husband of fifteen years as he lied directly to her face.
"Oh, don't worry. I didn't make you anything to eat," she said and attempted another sip of her tea.
Alex looked past Megan at the cold kitchen. Megan loved getting her crock pot out and usually had something bubbling and steaming on the counter for Alex when he got home from work.
"Everything okay Meg?"
"Why do you have to meet Mr. Mason this late?"
She saw the hesitation in his face, she saw the way his lips contorted right before he spoke, "Oh, you know, the usual contract stuff."
"You know what Alex? I don't know. Why don't you fill me in?"
Alex's eyes went dark and he slammed the refrigerator door shut. "I don't have time for this, go check the invoices if you want a play by play of his account."
Megan had been taking care of the books for Alex's private consulting company for the past ten years, and while she knew who the clients were, they rarely sat down and discussed the details of each individual account.
Megan grabbed Alex's wrist and glared into his dark brown eyes, "Make time."
Alex pulled his wrist from Megan's grip and stared back, "What's gotten into you?" He brushed past her into the mudroom and picked up his gym bag. "I'll see you when I get home," he said and grabbed a baseball hat from the rack by the back door.
Her rage had been simmering, but when Alex dismissed her, it boiled up and over. She gripped her mug and hurled it at the wall by Alex's head. He jumped as the pottery pieces clattered to the floor around his feet and the tea streamed down the wall.
"What the hell, Megan?"
"What the hell Megan?" she growled, her voice gravelly and unfamiliar to her own ears. "What the hell Megan?" she repeated and pressed her hands into the table and slid off the chair. "How about what the hell, Alex?" She pulled the photo out of her back pocket and flicked the evidence at him.
She saw his face fall as the photo flitted through the air and came to rest amongst the broken pottery.
"Meg, I—, I—-"
"You, what?" Megan interrupted.
"I'm sorry," he said, unable to meet her gaze, and then he walked out of the house.
(end excerpt)
SECOND CHANCES
Chance Rapids, Book 1
Now Available
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