In Too Deep Real Story Novels & Stories

The money wasn’t even enough to cover Alexander’s hospital bills. Thomas and Teresa sold the apartment in a hurry. Pressed for money, they accepted a low bid that didn’t even settle the outstanding bank loan. Against the family’s wishes, Cass went ahead with an abortion. She was now fighting Alexander in a divorce. My old friend uttered, “The whole town’s talking about it. It’s a train wreck.” I smiled without giving any input. Neither vindicated nor sad, I felt only a quiet indifference. Back in my little home, the city lights came on outside my window.

Snow rested against the edges of the mountain rocks while expensive black SUVs lined outside the resort building. Everything about the place screamed wealth and secrecy. I was exhausted. My legs hurt badly and my head pounded from stress and lack of sleep. But rest? No. Who would rest at a time like this? When my marriage was practically on fire? When my evil sister was about to steal my husband under the guise of a Ms Kingpin name? A name that was never even her legal identity? The thought alone made anger rise violently inside me again. I pushed the glass doors open and walked straight toward the reception desk.

I wrapped my hands around Alexander's arm and walked into the city hall without looking back. After finally making our marriage official, I followed Alexander and immigrated to Boltuvia with him. The next time I heard any news about Lucas, it was many months later. One of my friends, Kate Harding, casually mentioned him as we were catching up. "Say, Vivian! Guess who I bumped into on the streets just two days ago?" "Who?" "Lucas Hunter! My, my, he's in such a sorry state now!" Kate sighed and continued, "I heard that he got his arm broken by some debt collectors, and he couldn't afford any treatment, so he's just letting the limb hang limply down his body. He was so desperate he thought of a

I had my eyes on the prize, my career, and leveling up my skills. I hit the books, joined an exec program at a business school, and snagged a few of the industry's top certs. I was on my way up, not looking back. Then, out of the blue, I ran into Seth. There he was, clutching a beat-up canvas bag, crouched on the curb, chowing down on a stale bun. The once dashing Mr. Hoffman was down and out, looking worse off than a street bum. Seth had been drowning in debt he could not pay off, and the court had blacklisted him, slamming the brakes on any fancy spending. He was grounded, forbidden from high-speed trains and planes, scraping by on odd jobs.

I let him sleep in the guest room while I enjoyed my freedom. On Tuesday afternoon, I went to a bookstore cafe. I was looking at some novels when a man named Simon started chatting with me. He was around fifty, well dressed, with a calm voice and nice smile. We talked about books for a while, then I told him the truth about my situation. “I caught my husband with another woman,” I said. “Now I am exploring what I missed all these years.” Simon looked at me with interest. “Would you like to explore with me?”