I am sitting with my back against the door, just having read a note that Isabella left.
"If you are reading this, it means I am not here."
Well, ya that I can damn well see.
And what else I can damn well do, is not breathe.
So I crumple up the note and toss it into the bin. My heart is ripped away in shatters as I burst into tears. But then behind me, I hear a loud…
BANG.
…as someone is kicking at the door. Well, I hope that they have a good reason for banging around here at this time in the morning.
So as I take my time to go to answer the door, the banging only but becomes more persistently. Now I have no idea if I should be crying or be mad at the present moment. With one last wipe from the sleeve of my shirt, I dry the tears that are still threatening to come.
Then, slowly but utterly angry, I fling the door open.
"What do you…Huh? Why are…?" my words only but mumble as I try to make
It is with great disbelief and a rather dropped jaw that I am looking as Isabella as that word comes from those lips. Now I do know that I can be rather absent-minded at the best of times; if it is not about the Marines, well, then I am not fairly interested. But I will for certain remember if I had a mother-in-law somewhere in existence.So not trying to sound too hysterical, I shove another pancake down my throat before saying as calmly as possible, "Boo, your parents are dead, or did I miss something?""Well…"Ya, and that is where I am about to hear a story."They might perhaps still be alive."Still trying to remain calm, I take a deep breath and slowly, in the back of my head, count down to ten, "Is it perhaps, or is it for real?""It is for real. My father has passed away, but my mom is still alive."And that is me choking on the last of the pancake that I was still calmly chewing on. I nearly topple over as there is a s
The air was thick with the tension between us. Our eyes were hot with held-back tears; brows burdened with unresolved anger. Our annoyance filled the space between us. Disenchantment and creeping doubt edged us closer to a cliff of despair.On a good day, love can be challenging.Why do we keep finding ourselves in these trenches of disaffection and dysfunction?Life's evolutions would throw us off balance, disrupt our "normal," and make us uncomfortable and distracted.We are continually growing apart instead of instead of growing closer.To love, truly love, is to give, even when it is hard—especially when it is hard.When that reservoir of resentment is so full that just a drop of irritation made it spill over and saturate us with anger, we had to be stronger than the flood and to give more.And when we had nothing left to give, this is when we had to forgive.And when we did, we began to build trust again
…Isabella POV…I can hardly contain my laughter as I see the expression on Clayton's face as he very hesitantly makes his way over to the front door. All the way, with each step he takes, he softly whispers."I am going to kill you, Isabella Jackson."I only but shake my head and throw my hands in the air.I am pleading complete innocence.But yet watching him gently reach for the knob, taking almost and ten agonizing seconds to fling the door open, I finally burst out in an uncontrollable fit of laughter.He looks at me with much relief on his face as he is staring at the courier guy that is busy handing him a package. As he slams the door behind him, he walks back to me with utmost confidence."You can be glad that was not Betty.""Soldier, she is mom to you now.""Not the fuck; I am not calling that old bag mom. She has been giving me nothing but shit for years, and let us not forget about that god
Yesterday was torture, and ya… It is not going to get any better. I shall now have to live with the fact that Betty is my mother-in-law. Still, just the mention of the word makes my body cringe. I think, in a way, I was happy that I would never have one, but I guess a man can only dream for such a short while.Now I sat with Isabella in that kitchen for nearly almost two hours, and she did not say a single word. Yes, it frustrated the shit out of me because, in the back of my head, I know that there is going to be something that sticks up its ugly head. And as certain as I know that I am Clayton Jackson, that is as certain I will be to divorce her lying ass.So I shall leave it where it is and hope for the best to come.Now today, she is dragging me, well, not truly because I would love to have the experience, so we are off into the city to go get some more blue little things for my boy. I do truly wish that she did not only buy blue; hey, I love my own b
As I slowly open my eyes, I am immediately struck by a pounding headache, and fuck does it hurt like a bitch. But that is not my concern, my concern is Isabella, and as I look over at her, I am so fucking relieved that she is still there. Though still there how I do not now. So I abandon my seat in an instant and rush over to her side; as I open her door, her limp body falls out from the seat. My heart stops, and I cannot fucking breathe.Fuck Isabella!There is a suffocating grip that takes hold of my heart. I can feel the tears start to trickle at the corner of my eyes. I begin to scream at the top of my voice.His body is lifeless, his arms dangle to the ground, and his head falls loosely to the back. There is blood all over his face, but I cannot see where it is coming from. I cannot see any other wounds, but it does not mean that they are not there. Why is he not moving? The crash was not really that hard, but then again, Isabella was not wearing his seat b
My heart is shattered.I nearly lost Isabella today. It was so damn close; I could always feel her slip from my reach. It fucking kills me; it is eating me up alive; I cannot protect my wife!I felt so goddamn helpless; it felt that there was nothing that I could do; it was all out of my hands.Now I am standing outside with Galland, and I can hardly even catch my breath. The only desire I have now is to burst into a flood of tears and cry. I am supposed to be strong, but I feel weak to the bone.I don't, and I cannot fucking do this.I cannot lose Isabella.I have no idea who can be behind this; god knows that I have made my fair share of enemies between some of the boys in the Corps. But who would stoop to such a level to try and kill me and even with Isabella with me in the car? Most of the guys in our platoon know that she is pregnant.What sick fuck would do such a thing?Well, I am going to have to do the hardest thing th
…Isabella POV…The hurt in my heart is raging.I have not for one second let go of how angry I am at Clayton. It has consumed every single fiber in me, and it still has not let go. It is still burning out of control. I am growing closer and closer to the edge, and god, when I get there, I am going to crash and burn. My emotions are out of sync, and my mind is playing tricks on me. I have surrendered control over the demons inside of me; they still have a firm grip on me. If I don't find myself between all the darkness soon, then I fear that I am going to be lost.And lost is what I feel. I will be very honest with myself; I am not as happy as I thought I would be to be married to Clayton. My emotions are mixed. There are moments when I feel guilt and then get those moments where the hints of joy are far greater than regret.Yes, I feel regret.What else do I feel…I fucking miss the man!Now th
There is a dead darkness that settles over my heart as I hear the echo of a voice come from the kitchen.Can people not fucking knock?Well, it does not seem like they can. Guess this asshole will have to be taught a lesson.So I reach for my back and take my Ruger firmly gripped in my hand.Ya, someone tried to run me off the road, so I am going to make sure that I am ready.So I take one deep breath, I step closer, there is a rumble of a voice that comes from in front of me. With the darkness that fills the room, I can only make out a silhouette; I am going to guess that this is a man in front of me. I have only one thing to do, and that is face what will be my end today.And it is with slow agony that I do so. Each little scuffle my feet make, I prepare myself for what awaits me. Will it be a gun to my head, or will it be a knife to the chest. Whichever way, I truly do not think that any pain can be worse than the one that I am already fe