They’d never sell their house in the city and retire here in their country house. They’d never grow old together. Empty words. Betrayal.
6
Dream On
“You lied to me, Jack,” she whispered to the breeze swirling around her. “You promised me forever and you didn’t keep your part of the bargain. How could you do this to me? How could you make promises and not keep them?”
Swiping at the tears rolling down her cheeks, she summoned up the righteous anger that always made her feel better. Screw him! He’d left her after twenty years, destroying her dreams. She’d long ago vowed never to hurt over him again. Better to stay angry. Much more productive that way.
So why did she still dream about him at night? Why did his face, his touch, still haunt her?
Because you can’t let go.
She shook her head, refusing to dwell on him any longer. Jack was part of her past now and the house in the city was up for sale. One part of her memories would soon be gone. At least she still had the country house, even though it was way too quiet these days with the boys gone. Both Ron and J.J. were in college, but they came home as often as they could.
They worried about her, and she knew that. They tried to visit as often as possible and she knew it was because they were concerned about the amount of time she spent alone. But she fought them tooth and nail, insisting they make their own lives. The last thing she needed or wanted was her children acting as babysitters. She was fine alone. She’d even reached the point where she could spend weekends here at the country house like they all used to. Soon she’d live here full-time and could concentrate more on her writing. Being alone would be advantageous then. She could write undisturbed by city noise. Maybe she’d even be able to crank out one extra book a year this way. And occasionally, the boys could visit since the country house was closer to their school. They were supposed to be there this weekend, but she insisted they stay at school for the big game. Besides, the quiet solitude of the country would be good for her muse. Maybe she’d be able to finish that book this weekend. 7
Jaci Burton
She stood and headed into the house, locking the door and flipping the light switches off. She undressed and stood in front of the bathroom mirror, shaking her head at how much she’d aged in the past five years. Her face drooped like a basset hound’s, her hair hung long and stringy and the once shiny auburn strands looked oily and dirty. She’d gained at least fifteen pounds and felt every single one of them in her belly, thighs and butt.
“What the hell do I have to look good for, anyway?” she mused to her reflection. “I used to take care of myself, worked hard on my body and my appearance. Did it keep Jack in my life?”
The reflection shook its head.
“Exactly my point. No one sees me anyway.” And her sons loved her no matter how she looked, though they did suggest she get out more and away from her computer.
What they really meant was they thought she should find another man. The thought of dating anyone made her shudder in revulsion. Never again would she put her trust in a man, only to have her dreams of paradise ripped away when he didn’t live up to his promises.
She grabbed her pajamas and slipped them on, remembering the days she and Jack would slide under the cool sheets stark naked, using their bodies to warm each other. With a sigh she shut off the light and climbed into bed, staring out the window at the half moon shining overhead.
They used to make love while looking out this window. The moon always had an erotic pull for her, reminding her of hot and sexy whispered promises in the dark, warm, calloused hands reaching for her breasts or between her legs, eliciting cries in the night that she hadn’t experienced in far too long.
Her breasts ached and a tightness formed between her legs. Her clit throbbed, her pussy moistening at the memories of hot sex
6
Dream On
“You lied to me, Jack,” she whispered to the breeze swirling around her. “You promised me forever and you didn’t keep your part of the bargain. How could you do this to me? How could you make promises and not keep them?”
Swiping at the tears rolling down her cheeks, she summoned up the righteous anger that always made her feel better. Screw him! He’d left her after twenty years, destroying her dreams. She’d long ago vowed never to hurt over him again. Better to stay angry. Much more productive that way.
So why did she still dream about him at night? Why did his face, his touch, still haunt her?
Because you can’t let go.
She shook her head, refusing to dwell on him any longer. Jack was part of her past now and the house in the city was up for sale. One part of her memories would soon be gone. At least she still had the country house, even though it was way too quiet these days with the boys gone. Both Ron and J.J. were in college, but they came home as often as they could.
They worried about her, and she knew that. They tried to visit as often as possible and she knew it was because they were concerned about the amount of time she spent alone. But she fought them tooth and nail, insisting they make their own lives. The last thing she needed or wanted was her children acting as babysitters. She was fine alone. She’d even reached the point where she could spend weekends here at the country house like they all used to. Soon she’d live here full-time and could concentrate more on her writing. Being alone would be advantageous then. She could write undisturbed by city noise. Maybe she’d even be able to crank out one extra book a year this way. And occasionally, the boys could visit since the country house was closer to their school. They were supposed to be there this weekend, but she insisted they stay at school for the big game. Besides, the quiet solitude of the country would be good for her muse. Maybe she’d be able to finish that book this weekend. 7
Jaci Burton
She stood and headed into the house, locking the door and flipping the light switches off. She undressed and stood in front of the bathroom mirror, shaking her head at how much she’d aged in the past five years. Her face drooped like a basset hound’s, her hair hung long and stringy and the once shiny auburn strands looked oily and dirty. She’d gained at least fifteen pounds and felt every single one of them in her belly, thighs and butt.
“What the hell do I have to look good for, anyway?” she mused to her reflection. “I used to take care of myself, worked hard on my body and my appearance. Did it keep Jack in my life?”
The reflection shook its head.
“Exactly my point. No one sees me anyway.” And her sons loved her no matter how she looked, though they did suggest she get out more and away from her computer.
What they really meant was they thought she should find another man. The thought of dating anyone made her shudder in revulsion. Never again would she put her trust in a man, only to have her dreams of paradise ripped away when he didn’t live up to his promises.
She grabbed her pajamas and slipped them on, remembering the days she and Jack would slide under the cool sheets stark naked, using their bodies to warm each other. With a sigh she shut off the light and climbed into bed, staring out the window at the half moon shining overhead.
They used to make love while looking out this window. The moon always had an erotic pull for her, reminding her of hot and sexy whispered promises in the dark, warm, calloused hands reaching for her breasts or between her legs, eliciting cries in the night that she hadn’t experienced in far too long.
Her breasts ached and a tightness formed between her legs. Her clit throbbed, her pussy moistening at the memories of hot sex
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