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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Text copyright © 2019, L.A. Fiore and Anthony Dwayne

  All rights reserved

  This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the authors/publisher.

  ISBN-13: 978-1692254506

  Cover design by Dana Lamothe, Designs by Dana, [email protected]

  Proofreading by Rebecca Barney, Fairest Reviews Editing Services

  Typeset graphics and paperback and eBook formatting by Melissa Stevens, The Illustrated Author, www.theillustratedauthor.net

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  TITLE

  COPYRIGHT

  DEDICATION

  PLAYLIST

  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

  EPILOGUE

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR: LA FIORE

  STAY IN TOUCH WITH LA FIORE

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR: ANTHONY DWAYNE

  STAY IN TOUCH WITH ANTHONY DWAYNE

  For the ones who enter your life unexpectedly, the gems that shine a light and make your world brighter, and you better because of them.

  Playlist

  Before He Cheats...Carrie Underwood

  I Knew You Were Waiting (For Me)...George Micheal and Aretha Franklin

  This Kiss...Faith Hill

  Skinny Love...Birdy

  All This Time...One Republic

  Friends And Lovers...Carl Anderson and Gloria Loring

  Lost On You...Lewis Capaldi

  The King of Wishful Thinking...Go West

  The Flame...Cheap Trick

  Dreams...Van Halen

  Have You Ever Needed Someone So Bad...Def Leppard

  No One...Alicia Keys

  Slipped...The National

  Start of Something Good...Daughtry

  I Fall Apart...Post Malone

  Someone Like You...Adele

  Make You Feel My Love...Adele

  Happier...Marshmello

  One Last Night...Vaults

  Your Arms Feel Like Home...3 Doors Down

  The Best You Had...Nina Nesbitt

  Want You Back...HAIM

  Hard Habit to Break...Chicago

  Treat You Better...Shawn Mendes

  Look Away...Chicago

  I Just Want To Be Your Everything...Andy Gibb

  Shelter Of Your Love...Jimmy Cliff

  Wicked Games...The Weekend

  You Are The Reason...Calum Scott

  Stay...Rihanna

  I Wanna Take Forever Tonight...Peter Cetera

  Feels Like Heaven...Peter Cetera and Chaka Khan

  One Clear Voice...Peter Cetera

  I’ll Be Alright Without You...Journey

  I don’t Have the Heart...James Ingram

  Faithfully...Peter Cetera

  This Woman’s Work...Kate Bush

  What Kinda Gone...Chris Cagle

  What About Love?...Heart

  (I Can’t Help) Falling In Love With You...UB40

  I Need You...Tim McGraw

  Wide Awake...Katy Perry

  Stronger...Kelly Clarkson

  Anything Is Possible...Mozella

  It Don’t Hurt Like It Used To...Billy Currington

  I’ll Be Over You...Toto

  Separate Lives...Phil Collins and Marilyn Martin

  Foolish Heart...Steve Perry

  Just Once...James Ingram

  No Easy Way Out...Robert Tepper

  It Must Have Been Love...Roxette

  Priceless...For King & Country

  Rush Rush...Paula Abdul

  Would You Go With Me...Josh Turner

  Send My Love...Adele

  Blank Space...Sweet Babe May

  Goodbye to You...Michelle Branch

  Complicated...Avril Lavigne

  When a Man Loves a Woman...Percy Sledge

  Hello...Lionel Richie

  Best Thing I Never Had...Beyonce

  Do I...Luke Bryan

  Leave a Light On...Tom Walker

  Better Now...Post Malone

  Fallin’ All In You...Shawn Mendes

  Voices Carry...’Til Tuesday

  Love The Way You Lie...Eminem and Rihanna

  F**kin’ Perfect...P!nk

  Bad Blood...Taylor Swift

  Stay...Sugarland

  The Truth...Jason Aldean

  Watching Airplanes...Gary Allan

  There Goes My Life...Kenny Chesney

  Drunk On You...Luke Bryan

  Take Me There...Rascal Flatts

  No Ordinary Love...Sade

  Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked...Cage The Elephant

  Holding On And Letting Go...Ross Copperman

  When I See You Smile...Bad English

  Awake and Alive...Skillet

  Take It On The Run...REO Speedwagon

  Human Nature...Michael Jackson

  Taking You Home...Don Henley

  If You Needed Somebody...Bad Company

  The Rose...Bette Midler

  Just When I Needed You Most...Randy VanWarmer

  CHAPTER ONE

  Tilly shouted for the third time. “The bus will be here in fifteen minutes. Move it!”

  She finished packing her kids’ lunches, being sure to give Justin an extra juice and to hold the jam on Ashley’s sandwich because, all of a sudden, she didn’t like jam. Tilly grinned to herself. The trials and tribulations of a fifteen and fourteen-year-old. The phone pulled her attention; grabbing it and putting it under her ear, she yanked open the pantry door to put the peanut butter away, breathlessly greeting, “Hello.”

  “Mrs. Forester?”

  “Yes.”

  “Just confirming your appointment at eleven.”

  It took Tilly a second: right, the exterminator. She wasn’t big on killing insects, but ants in her kitchen was where she drew the line. “Yes, eleven.”

  “See you then.”

  She almost dropped the phone, but got it back in the cradle before she shouted again. “Let’s move—” Her shout was cut short when her son walked into the kitchen. His brown hair was too long, but he was going through a phase. Battling with him to get his hair out of his eyes was too exhausting. He’d move past the fad soon enough. He looked so much like her husband. She couldn’t stop the smile but refrained from commenting because she’d only get, Come on, Mom. Jeez.

  She handed him his lunch. “Did you see your sister?”

  “I’m here.” Ashley announced, running into the kitchen. Her hair was lighter than her brother’s: her eyes not hazel, like the rest of the family, but green. “Couldn’t get my hair right,” she offered, turning Tilly’s focus on the messy knot her daughter had pulled her hair up into.


  “I like your hair like that,” Tilly said.

  Ashley grabbed her lunch, flashing her mom a smile. “Thanks, Mom. Oh, don’t forget. I’m staying after school today for choir. I’ll need you to get me at five.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “I got soccer,” Justin said, ripping the wrapper off his granola bar and eating half in one bite.

  “I remember. Drop off at four fifteen pm.”

  “School pics are next week.” Ashley reminded her. Tilly looked again at her son’s hair and wondered what the chances were of getting it cut before the pictures. Though, if this was his look for the tenth grade, having it documented for all posterity wasn’t a bad idea. It was what school pictures were all about after all.

  They all heard the bus at the same time. Ashley ran over, kissed Tilly on the cheek, and then darted for the door. Justin, who had stopped giving her kisses in the eighth grade, gave her a “Later,” as he walked out of the kitchen.

  “Later,” she called after him, reaching the door in time to see her kids climbing onto the bus. She waved to the bus driver, even got a wave from Ashley, before she closed the door, walked back into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee. Before she took her first sip, the phone rang again. Glancing over, it was Luke. Answering, she said, “Hi, honey.”

  “I’m going to be late. One of the grids is down.” Tilly leaned up against the counter and took that first sip. Luke supervised the local power company. It was gradual, so gradual that Tilly couldn’t say when it switched from Luke working to have a life, to work becoming his life. In the beginning, he put in long hours to get them in a position where they were financially comfortable. Then Justin was born and Luke worked even longer hours because now they were a family. Somewhere along the way, he stopped working toward something and just found fulfillment in working. Their weekend home improvement projects, family outings, even dinners together just fell by the wayside. She made excuses, first to herself, then to her kids...attempting to make up for the absence of their father by being both for her kids.

  “I can keep your dinner warm,” she offered.

  “It’s all right. I’ll get something here. Did the kids get off to school?” He asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Justin needs a haircut.”

  “He does, but I’m picking my battles.”

  “It’s a haircut.” There was the slightest bit of censure in his words. Irritation moved through Tilly. She didn’t mind picking up the slack, dealt with having a husband who was never around, but when they did talk and he criticized, that pissed her off. She snapped, “He’s your son too. You want his hair cut, you know where the barber is.”

  Silence followed for a second before she heard his exhale. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.”

  He did, but at least he knew he was being a dick. “It’s all right.”

  “What are you doing today?”

  Tilly put her mug down and took a deep breath. She was pretty sure her husband thought she spent her days talking on the phone and watching daytime television. So consumed with his work, it skipped his noticed that the bills were paid, the kids got where they needed to be, things that broke were fixed, the yard was always mowed, gardens weeded, hot meals on the tables, and clean laundry in the closets. She may not earn a salary, but she worked her ass off. Reminding her husband of that was just not something she did anymore.

  “Exterminator at eleven. Bills, lawn work.”

  She could tell by his vague reply that he was no longer listening, pulled from the conversation by work. It should probably upset her, but honestly, she’d gotten used to it. This was her life. “I’ll let you go,” she said.

  “Sorry. Yeah, I got to talk to Mike.”

  “See ya later,” she said but the line was already dead. Placing the phone back, she grabbed her coffee and headed upstairs to dress.

  _______________

  Gage slowed his sprint to a jog as he approached his house, waving to one of his early rising neighbors when he did. He kept a steady pace until he reached the back patio, where he halted his steps. His hands to his knees, he took in a few long deep breaths, the burn feeling good. Looking at his watch, his girls would be up, getting ready for the day.

  Swinging the back door open, Velvet tried to run out. He caught the little dog with his foot, edging her back in the house, trying to take a few steps inside while dodging the dog’s excitement that he was home.

  “Dad. Mom said I can’t go to the movies this Friday because it’s your birthday,” Scarlett said as her morning greeting.

  Heather put the almond milk she was holding back into the fridge as she reiterated, “I already told you, Grandma and Grandpa are coming for dinner.”

  “Wait.” Gage held up his hand, and with his other wiped the sweat from his brow.

  The girls ignored him, continuing their conversation as if he wasn’t there. He looked at Heather, his wife: her hair perfect, makeup done to the nines, dressed in a tight black pencil skirt matched with a deep blue button-down blouse. His eyes kept moving down to her strappy black heels, ones he had fucked her in… once, a long time ago. She whipped her head toward him, her bob-cut blonde hair swishing when she did. “Are you listening to me?”

  He wasn’t. He was lost in thought on how repetitive their lives had become. He pointed to the ear buds in his ear and blamed his not listening on the music that wasn’t playing. He pulled one out. “Sorry, forgot to turn my music off. What’s up?”

  She cocked her hip and tilted her head. “Do you want to do dinner with your parents for your birthday or not? I need to know now so I can confirm it with your mother. You know how upset she gets if she doesn’t have a plan in place.” She ended with a shake of her head, impatiently waiting for his response as she tucked energy bars into her purse.

  As if his birthday, which was the same as everyone else’s, once a year, was a major catastrophe. He inwardly chuckled because he couldn’t even get a day where his family wanted to spend it celebrating him. He recalled taking his daughter to a Pink concert for her birthday and dealing with a headache for two days afterward. But, he’d do it again in a heartbeat. For his wife’s birthday, he had taken her away for the weekend to a spa retreat, where he spent most of it alone while she was off getting pampered. All that, and his family was falling apart because they had to take a Friday night to have dinner with him for his birthday.

  Jesus.

  Gage waved a dismissive hand. “I think Dom is planning something, keeps hinting about it.” He lied, walked to the coffee pot and saw Heather had only brewed enough for her two cups. He’d stop at the convenience store on the way out and grab a cup or two… maybe just steal the pot. “You girls do what you want. I’ll be forty six all year.” He forcefully smiled.

  “Oh good,” Heather said, then leaned back against the counter like a hundred-pound weight had just been taken off her shoulders. “Marcy asked me to go to this jazz bar in the city, and I’d really like to go.” She threw him a wide smile. Did he want her to go? No, but he knew if he voiced his displeasure about her spending his birthday with her friends it would only earn him a day of her pouting.

  “Go,” He told her as he grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge. The bulb was out again, he needed to change it.

  “Cool,” Scarlett said and hopped down from the stool. “This means I can go to the movies and spend the night at Rachelle’s.”

  Gage swallowed the gulp of water, barely getting it all down, before he choked out, “You said only the movies.”

  A horn beeped. Scarlett grabbed her backpack off the floor, tossed it over her shoulder and informed her parents, “Rachelle’s here, gotta go.”

  “Be careful,” Gage said to his daughter’s back.

  “Chill Dad, I get my license next year.” She threw over her shoulder.

  Fuck. She did. It wasn’t a topic Gage li
ked to talk about. Not only because his little girl was growing up, but the thought of her behind the wheel of a car terrified him.

  He turned to his wife, who was paying no mind to them, busy placing papers into her briefcase. “When did she grow up?” He asked before gulping down the last of the water.

  “While you were cutting lawns.” She threw back, as she poured the rest of her coffee from her large mug into a travel one.

  “I don’t cut lawns, Heather. I own a landscaping business,” Gage said with a hard tone, proud of the successful business he had built. Unfortunately, Heather, somewhere along the line, forgot to recognize all the years of hard work he’d put in to get them to where they were. She always teased him about being a glorified lawn boy, even when he worked his ass off to put a roof over his family’s heads, clothes on their backs, and food in their stomachs.

  She rolled her eyes. “I know what the hell you do, Gage, it was a joke.” He began to think it was more a dig than a joke. Since his wife took a job four years ago, working her way up to head teller, he had suspicions that his wife now wanted a husband who worked nine to five, wore a suit to work and carried a briefcase. That wasn’t Gage. Grabbing her designer lunch bag and purse, both costing almost as much as the new weed eater he had to buy last week, she started for the door. She wasn’t there six months before she felt the need to dress like she worked on Wall Street. The problem was they couldn’t afford for her to do that; she didn’t care, though, she just used plastic. And a lot of it. “Girls at work and I are going to dinner tonight. Frozen pizza is in the freezer. See you tonight.” Then he watched the woman he had fallen in love with walk out the door without as much as an ‘I love you’ or a kiss goodbye.

  Gage took the stairs two at a time, went to the master bath and stripped down. He jumped into a hot shower hoping to scald away the morning’s brush off of his upcoming birthday. Not to mention, how his and Heather’s lives had changed in the past years.

  _______________

  Tilly moved her salad around her plate. She was happy to get Candice’s text about lunch because even three days after the exterminator had been to the house, the distinct smell of bug killer lingered.

  Her eyes strayed to the brownie Candice was eating. Her best friend was five three and a hundred pounds despite what she ate. She never worked out, didn’t think about carbs or sugars, and she still looked amazing. Tilly just had to look at food. In fact, she was pretty sure her thighs were getting bigger watching Candice.