[Hey guys I'm back! So first of all I'd like to thank everyone for all of their amazing reviews during the first book for Twisted Love. Thank you also to all of the people who added me and the story to their favorites. I loved all of the feedback and hearing about your opinions for the couple and the characters. This is the promised sequel for the story Twisted Love. The first chapter is more of a preview—because I'm not sure how long it will be before I post anything else since I'm completely swamped. I just started college wootwoot and am busy getting settled, but I'm literally working on the rest of the story at this very moment. I just want you to have an idea where I'm going with this one. I promise the book will be finished and posted by later December 2011. My Christmas present to you all. ;) Read and Review and of course Enjoy!—Kayla]
Chapter 1 "Desperate Housewives"
"When you're young, your whole life is about the pursuit of fun. Then, you grow up and learn to be cautious. You could break a bone or a heart. You look before you leap and sometimes you don't leap at all because there's not always someone there to catch you. And in life, there's no safety net. When did it stop being fun and start being scary?" –Sex and the City
Fairytales are thought of as highly sought after fanciful dream worlds where every heart's desire has a chance at life. It's the classic tale where damsel's in distress are rescued from their tall towers and fiery dragons by their knights in shining armor and then presume to ride off on horseback into the sunset to live "Happily Ever After."
The problem with fairytales is that they are so unrealistic that they can't help, but set innocent women up for years of disappointment.
Because honestly, even knowing in advance—that fairytales define naivety—how can we not hope for them?
It is the worst kind of trickery when you meet a man that is too good to be true and mistake him for your Prince Charming when he is in fact, far from it. It is the hope for the fairytale—unrealistic as they are—that pushes you to agree to marry this man, diving heels first into a future that may or may not have a happy ending.
You do it because you have faith, faith that he really is everything you ever wanted. Faith that he'll hold your hand and never let go even if it's just the two of you fighting against the world. You have faith that fairytales are real and that "Happily Ever After's" aren't just for the foolish ones, too naïve to know any better. You make yourself believe because you have to. It's what makes you human—and you're happy…for a while anyways.
Then two years after you agree to marry this man, the magic wears off and reality sets in. You wake up and realize that there are several aspects of a marriage that fairytales have failed to mention. Like: mortgage, bills, curfews, sharing a home, fighting over the kids, fighting over everything, minimizing your closet space, sharing an adjoin bank account, dealing with insurance policies etc. and all of the stress, fury, depression and confusion that comes with it.
Where are your precious fairytales then?
You're left there sitting around on your ass, eating your weight in chocolate, wondering where you could've possibly have gone wrong. Wondering, how your fairytales could've abandoned you like this after all of the broken promises they made you.
Sometimes I wish it was like the beginning, where you could feel your pulse in your ears and your smile never seemed to leave your face. Where the idea of a "happily ever after" was still hopeful and fresh in your mind. I remembered the beginning perfectly, as if it had happened yesterday.
I wasn't sure when my angry incoherent thought process turned into a dream, but one minute I was accusing my fairytales of being unfaithful and the next I was with David in my happy place.
I was sitting on the cold counter attached to my old trailer wall. Most of the contents that had been previously set where I was sitting were currently strewn on the floor, but I barely noticed. I was far more occupied in something else, or rather someone else.
David kissed me feverishly in a fit of passion. I moaned feeling pleased enough. He pushed me further onto the counter dragging his lean body down with me and then slowly started to pull away. I wrapped my legs securely around his waist trying to keep him plastered against me, but it was no use. He was so much stronger then I was. I opened my blue eyes lazily and breathed heavily in and out.
"Haley we can't." He groaned through pleading eyes. I stared at him playfully.
"Of course we can" I teased, pulling his face back into a heated kiss. He kissed me and then his eyes flew open. Not that it mattered; the guy had like a two second rebound.
"I just think we're going a little past kissing here."
A seductive smirk stretched across my mouth.
"So why are you still talking?"
He kissed me again. I could feel his hot, heavy breath on my neck. His hands settled on my hips and then hurriedly moved to my dusky brown hair. I happily hooked my legs back around his waist and kissed him even more heatedly. I started to lean back positive that he had finally surrendered, bringing him with me. I pulled him down on top of me, grabbing a handful of his shirt in my hands. His body pressed against mine—separated only by the thin layer of our clothing. I trailed my hand down his chest to the clasp of his jeans and then lower… He shot up and pulled away. I groaned in real aggravation this time.
"I'm just not sure about this…maybe this—you and me, isn't a good idea." He let his voice trail off suggestively. Even though I wanted to argue with him I couldn't. He was right. He was always right. I sighed untangling myself from him, sliding off the counter.
"You should go." I whispered.
His green eyes smoldered. His brown hair stood up adorably in every direction. His shirt lifted, revealing a thin line of hair trailing down his navel, disappearing into his jeans.
"Yeah, I should go."
He stood there for a moment staring at me. I shut my eyes trying to fight the heavy desire to crawl back into his arms. That's when I said it. Two words that meant nothing at the time, but ended up changing everything. The two words that decided my fate.
"Screw it" I sighed before pushing him onto the cheap leather couch attached to my trailer wall. I hovered over him, waiting from him to stop me, but his self-control had run out and he didn't protest any further. So I continued to have my way with him…and you know the rest.
I found myself being pulled away from what could very well be the best dream of my life to the sound of the phone ringing.
I closed my eyes tightly, breathing deeply, pretending I was still asleep so I wouldn't have to answer it.
That was one good thing about being married—you didn't always have to get out of bed and talk to unwanted people at eight in the morning.
I could hear feet shuffling somewhere in the house and David's soft British accent as he answered it.
"Hello?" I heard him say. There was a pause before he continued "okay, no I'm keeping my 3 o' clock appointment…Great I'll see you there Kathryn." Kathryn? Who the hell was Kathryn? There was silence, David sighed and hung up the phone. I listened to the sound of a door opening, a shower curtain being pushed and running water. My eyes flew open.
In truth, it wasn't my marriage that was so bad. It was our sex life. Or lack of…It was the issue of him not wanting to be alone in the same room as me for more than five minutes for the last four months. It was the fact that he had become a workaholic (his job had become his wife and family) he hasn't slept in the same bed as me for six months. He claims that he forgets or that he was working late or that he was so tired he couldn't possibly walk ten more feet to the bedroom….he had an excuse for everything. Which leads me back to the biggest issue of all—we haven't had sex in almost a year.
I've heard rumors of this happening to married couples, but I never thought we'd be one of them. David loves sex as much as I do—or at least he used to.
Something had happened over the last year that changed that aspect of our marriage. I didn't even notice at first—that we weren't having sex I mean. I just figured he was tired. It wasn't until I would cuddle up to him and he would pull away that I realized that something was wrong. It wasn't until he spent most of his time working that I thought he'd changed his mind about me. It wasn't until he started sleeping on the couch that I knew he was serious.
Normally, in a black and white world I would storm up to him and demand to know what his problem was—there were several times when I almost did, but I always stopped myself. I was terrified of being rejected, of being defined as unwanted and unlovable and old. (Never mind the fact that I was only 26) I shuddered. I was getting closer to thirty every stinking day. It wasn't fair. David was 35 and yet somehow as he got older, he got hotter. How is it time treats him so well while I'm stuck worrying about wrinkles and cellulite? I was so bitter and envious that sometimes I thought I might kill him.
What would happen when David felt the need to trade me in for a newer model?
I shook my head, instantly feeling guilty for thinking it. David loved me—that hadn't changed. We were just going through a little rough patch. It would pass. He'd get over it. Things would go back to the way they were in time.
Even as I told myself to look forward to the future, my mind was stuck in the present. How long would it take him to go back to normal? A girl has needs you know. How can I not complain when I'm married to someone as gorgeous as David? I'm only human after all.
That's why my eyes flew open when the shower came on.
You would think a 26 year old mother would have more self-control.
My hand instantly reached for my silk robe. I crawled out of bed, letting my bare feet touch the cold wooden floor. I pursed my lips, deciding and then without further hesitation, I untied the strap on my robe revealing a matching red lace chemise underneath.
I stared in the mirror briefly—my hair was a bit longer now…trailing all the way down my back in loose brown curls. My eyes looked tired and my face was stripped of makeup making me look more pale than usual—but still…could be worse.
I walked quickly to the bathroom.
I leaned against the doorway, staring at the silhouette of him outlined on the tan shower curtain. I swallowed willing my shaking hands to remain at my sides. Just to be on the safe side I tucked my hands firmly under my crossed arms. I cleared my throat.
"David?" I said in a soft, soothing voice.
"Umm…yeah?" He said loudly over the water. I sighed I couldn't quite explain it, but I had a sickening feeling in my gut. The kind of feeling you get when you find out your failing all of your classes a week before grades come out.
I shook it off, feeling ridiculous. This was my husband. I could talk to him right?
I sat down on the toilet seat.
"I was thinking maybe we could all go out to lunch today. You know just the three of us and then maybe after we could—"
"I have to work." He said plainly, without apology. I flinched and I was glad he couldn't see it.
"Oh." I mumbled unable to hide my disappointment.
His voice sounded strained as if he were struggling with himself.
"Besides don't you have to take Elizabeth to that orientation thing?" I could hear a smile in his voice. "Pre-school."
I slapped my hand against my forehead.
"Oh, that's right I forgot." I sighed. He chuckled.
"Oh well, different day" He said. I nodded, forgetting he couldn't see me.
"I can't believe how big she's gotten." He said conversationally. I snorted. Three years old wasn't that big.
"Yeah" I replied. "I know."
"I'm going to miss carrying her around everywhere."
I raised my eyebrows skeptically. He'd been working so much lately that he'd barely seen her, let alone how did he put it? Oh yes, "carried her around everywhere." I rolled my eyes. If anyone should be feeling sorry it's me. Ever since Kristy got pregnant—five months ago—she hasn't been much fun to be around. This was actually a bit of an understatement. Kristy had gone crazy—baby proofing their apartment, buying all of the books, going to endless doctor appointments. And Sara was still looking at Richard with gaga eyes even after they had the twins (Riley and Lance. Boy and a girl) they just turned one. This of course infuriated me to no end because they're obviously not having any intimacy problems. Elizabeth was the only company I had. Well apart from the people I worked with sometimes. I had been doing a series of little acting roles for the past year. Nothing too big. Clara only ordered me around over blackberry now because she was pregnant and didn't feel comfortable going out in public while she was so bloated. The only time I saw her in the last eight months was last week at her baby shower. I could barely stomach how Derrick and Andy fell over there pregnant wives—coming to there every need in a heartbeat. It was sickening. Pregnant woman got all the attention. It wasn't fair.
Then I had an idea. It was a little far-fetched considering everything, but—
"You know we could always…I mean we could—" I blushed; again glad he couldn't see my face. What was I doing? He'd laugh in my face.
"What?" he asked curiously.
"Never mind" I muttered, glumly.
"No, Haley tell me." He pressed.
"Please" He begged. I sighed, unable to deny him anything.
"Well, we could always—I don't know—have another baby."
This was defiantly not the right thing to say.
As soon as I said the word baby the water shut off and only silence remained. After a few minutes passed I began to worry.
"Or not" I sighed. That's when the curtain flew open and he stepped out onto the rug in front of the shower. He was dripping wet and beautifully, glorifying naked. My eyes popped open wide and my heart started beating double time. To my utter disappointment he immediately reached for his towel and wrapped it around his waist. His face was unreadable.
"We should talk about this." He said casually. I almost forgot what we had been talking about. Almost.
"Yeah" I whispered weakly. "Okay."
I was surprised that he hadn't already said no. Did that mean he was actually considering it? I smiled. I didn't really think about it before, but I wanted another baby.
He stood there awkwardly for a minute. I waited for him to say something. He stared down at his feet.
"Well, I'm going to change, but I'll meet you downstairs so we can talk." He sighed, unable to meet my eyes. I felt confused, unsure if I had heard him correctly. He watched me expectantly.
"Sure." I grumbled before I stormed out of my own bedroom. I couldn't ignore the fact that he wouldn't move from his spot until I closed the door behind me.
It wasn't until he could no longer change in front of me that I realized how truly awful fairytales were.
I plopped down on the couch with more force than necessary. I was sulking. My stupid, perfect, British husband. I could briefly recall the time when he had rejected me—the night I had first met him. It felt like another lifetime, but then I remembered that even then he had wanted me. So I had to ask myself…what kind of husband didn't want to have sex with his all, but too—willing wife? It made absolutely no sense!
I looked up to see David dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, his hair combed messily to the side. He hadn't changed much in appearance since I first met him. His were still a dazzling shade of emerald green…his hair was still messy and all over the place…his smile still made me go weak to the knees. The only small differences would be the subtle laugh lines around his eyes and the knowing look in his eyes that I heard comes with age. Despite everything that had happened one thing remained true, I was head over heels, out of my mind in love with him.
I didn't say anything in reply I mean what could I have said? He sighed and sat down on the couch next to me. I turned my head away from him. I was being childish, but I wanted him to know how angry I was.
"Haley—" he began again. "I know that you think that having another baby is the right thing for us to do in theory, but I have something I've been meaning to tell you…" He swallowed nervously. "I can't…"
He stared at me for a moment and then continued.
He rambled on, "What I'm trying to say, is..." I looked at him, biting my lip, trying to will those images of him and his...tongue...and kissing and everything else out of her mind.
Focus I reminded myself. This turned out to be easier than I thought it would be.
"I have a lot on my plate right now. I have to work. It's too much. You need to be more responsible with the child we already have. I mean you can barely manage Elizabeth as it we don't need to add another…"
I cut him off with a hateful glare. Usually I was pretty good with everything, but that hit below the belt. For so long I was afraid of being a bad mother. It took me a long time to believe that I was doing a good job.
"Elizabeth is fine" I growled. "You know maybe what she needs is a father who is there for her. I mean what happened to you? Since when is your career more important than your family?"
"It's not" he said angrily. I rolled my eyes.
"Right," I snorted. "Whatever you say….I just hope that all of this catches up with you before you lose all of it."
"What is that supposed to mean?" His eyes widened.
"I think you know what it means" I said stiffly. Not that I ever would. The idea of leaving him was unimaginable to me. I just meant to shake him up a little bit. Maybe snap him back to reality.
He flinched and walked over to the window. He held his hands on his hips, his back turned to me, staring out the window.
I started to feel guilty when my temper went down. I knew I shouldn't have pushed that far. Like me, he had serious abandonment issues.
I got up to stand behind him, wrapping my slender arms around his waist. I stood up in my tiptoes to kiss his neck.
"I'm sorry." I whispered. "That wasn't fair. Forgive me?"
He still wouldn't look at me though.
"There's nothing to forgive. It's my fault."
I shook my head. "It's not that bad." I assured him. "We're both here for you. I love you. Your daughter loves you. We're not going anywhere.
He turned around. His eyes were sad. I rested my palm on his cheek.
"I made my choice a long time ago and I'm never going to leave you." I assured him.
He cupped my face in his hands and stared deeply into my eyes.
"I love you." He said.
"I love you too." I sighed. "And I am sorry."
He pressed his finger to my lips and smiled. Then he kissed me. That was another thing I hadn't noticed until now. He hadn't actually kissed me in a really long time.
His tongue slipped into my mouth and my arms wrapped slowly around his neck. Unable to stop myself, I pressed my body flush against his so that I could feel his every curve. He made this weird grunting noise before his back stiffened and he pulled away, breathless.
I stared at him, feeling even more confused and rejected.
His eyes looked wide and fearful. I was about to ask, but he didn't give me the chance.
"I-I h-have to g-go." He stuttered incoherently. "I'll be late." He kissed me briefly on the forehead and walked away. "I'm sorry." He called over his shoulder, quickly heading out the door.
I don't how long I stood like that, staring at the door, but I finally gave up on waiting for him to come back and explain. With a resigned sigh I walked up the stairs to wake Elizabeth up for her orientation.
Orientation. I shuddered at how domestic it sounded and then shook my head. It couldn't be that bad.
Actually, I'd say that was the understatement of the year.
Not that bad? I wanted to laugh out loud. This was torture. I seriously felt like I was in some kind of purgatory, waiting for someone to shove bamboo splinters under my nails.
The Principle's voice droned on sluggishly about the history and the foundation of the school. I looked around to see if anyone was taking this guy seriously with his polished gray suit and red and yellow polkadot bow tie, along with his bald head and bushy mustache. Apparently I was alone, surrounded by alien brain washed parents who absorbed everything he said like it was the most important thing ever spoken. They were no doubt the future soccer parents and trophy wives of the world. The kind of people who could throw a barbecue for the neighbors and cook a meal without burning the house down. I grimaced.
I could imagine if David had come with me it would've been slightly more bearable. He would probably be trying desperately not laugh and would fail miserably, causing everyone to glare in our direction and for me to laugh in return.
No doubt after being so rude he would stand— causing a commotion—pick up Elizabeth apologize and get us out of here.
I wanted nothing more than to do just that.
I sighed, taking another glance around. What was I doing here?
I eyed Elizabeth momentarily. Her light brown hair hung in waves around her shoulders. Her hands were clutched into tiny fist under her stomach. Her mouth was pulled down into a frown—but her face looked peaceful and relaxed. I was envious that she had the ability to fall asleep and not be frowned upon by everyone here. I stifled a yawn. I glanced at the clock approximately every five seconds. How long exactly was an orientation supposed to take?
…Two freaking hours to be exact.
I spent the majority of the time taking in the scene around me. The perspiration on the principle's forhead growing as the minutes passed sluggishly by. The parents around me were all dressed in pearls and doc martens and tennis clothes. The chairs were lined neatly down the theatre in two rows all stacked next to each other. The long stage that the principle stood on was overcast with a line of curtains and lights hung over the podium. Light shone in from the rafters above—but the place felt too dark and depressing to have that clear wholesome effect. I almost felt guilty that I was leaving my daughter in such a place. Almost.
It was actually possible that it was just me. I never liked school much. I couldn't just take her away from any shot at normalcy because I felt uncomfortable. That would be selfish of me. And Elizabeth was too brilliant to not get a proper education.
When the principle finally wrapped it up I stood up out of my chair so quickly that I accidently jostled Elizabeth awake. She blinked sleepily and I smiled at her. She was so lucky.
As the parents crowded around to discuss I attempted to sneak out of the back. Unfortunately with my social status this wasn't the easiest thing to do. The principal had me under his radar in five seconds flat.
"Mrs. Turner?" He called from behind me. I froze, cursing silently. I plastered a fake grin and turned around.
"I just wanted to say how glad I am to hear that you decided to let Elizabeth come here. I have a feeling that she will do great here."
"I'm sure she will." I smiled, not minding talking about my daughter, but still pleading silently that he would leave me alone so I could get the hell out of here. "If you'll excuse me though…I'm in a bit of a hurry."
His brow furrowed.
"You do realize how important the orientation is?" He said. I paused. Was he implying something? "I think you'd want to be a good parent and stay and listen." He smiled flaky.
The answer was yes. Yes, he was implying something. I glared at him. I had already decided that I hated him. I needed to find a diversion for him and make a quick exit.
"What's that?" I exclaimed with as much enthusiasm as I could manage. He turned around to look and I ran as fast as I could with Elizabeth in my arms to the exit. I faintly heard him say my name, but I pretended not to hear him. I knew there would be consequences for this later, but at that point I didn't really care. Trust me anyone else in their right mind would've done the exact same thing.
Besides I had enough problems to deal with as it was.
I jumped into a taxi, trying to think back to the point when my life had gotten this complicated and what exactly I was going to do to make it better.