distance the moon was just rising over the water and it shimmered like a splash of silver.
Drawn to the mesmerizing sight, she ventured closer to the water, hugging her arms around her waist as the incoming waves lapped precariously close to her toes.
At one point, she stopped and allowed the water to caress her feet and surround her ankles. There she stood, staring over the expanse of the ocean, stargazing like a dreamer. It would take a million wishes to fix the mess she was currently in. And maybe that was what had gotten her into this situation in the first place.
Stupid dreams. Stupid idealism. She’d been a fool to wait for the perfect guy to give her virginity to. She’d always been somewhat smug and a little holier-than-thou with her friends who’d given it up long ago. But they at least had gone into the situation with their eyes wide open. They hadn’t confused sex for love. They weren’t the ones on their honeymoon with the migraine from hell and a husband who didn’t love them.
They were looking pretty damn smart for shopping around and Ashley was looking like a moron.
She pulled out her cell phone and stared down at her contacts list. She could use the comfort of a good friend right now but she wavered on whether to send a text. She was already humiliated enough. Could she bear to tell her friends or even one friend the truth about her marriage? Or would she go back home, live a lie and hope that Devon would pretend as agreed.
Could she ever make him love her?
She lowered the hand holding the phone and then she shoved it back into her pocket. What could she say anyway in the limited number of characters allowed by a text message? Or maybe she should just tweet everyone.
Marriage fail. Honeymoon fail.
That would get the message across with plenty of characters left over.
She shoved her hands into her pockets, closed her eyes and wished for just one minute that she could go back. That she would have asked more questions.
That she would have picked up on the fact he’d never said he loved her even when Ashley made it a practice to tell him every day.
She’d just assumed he was a typical guy. Devon was reserved. He was somewhat forbidding. But she’d been wildly attracted to those qualities. Thought they were sexy. She’d been convinced that he quietly adored her and that his actions spoke louder than words.
She’d never considered even once that his actions were practiced, fake and manipulative.
Another shiver overtook her and she clamped her teeth together until pain shot through her head.
“Enough,” she said.
She had beat herself up for the last twenty-four hours, but it was Devon who was the jackass here. Not her. She’d done nothing wrong. Naiveté wasn’t a crime. Loving someone wasn’t a crime. She wouldn’t apologize for offering her love, trust and commitment to a man who didn’t deserve any of it.
He was wrong. She wasn’t.
The only thing she could control from here on out was what she did with the truth. It was no longer about what Devon wanted. If he could be a selfish jerk-wad, she could at least focus on what she wanted from this fiasco.
Then she laughed because what she wanted was the jerk-wad to love her. That might make her pathetic.
No, she couldn’t text Sylvia or Carly or Tabitha.
Definitely not Pippa. Pippa would have her in front of a lawyer in a matter of hours and then she’d likely take out a hit on Devon.
Plus her friends would tell her she was being stupid for wanting to stay in the marriage. And she may well be an idiot, but she didn’t want people telling her that.
She’d already made one mistake. It wouldn’t be the first or last and well, if it didn’t work out, at least then she could cite incompatibility and she wouldn’t have to tell everyone that the marriage had fall en apart before it had ever gotten off the ground.
She had just enough of an ego to want to save face.
Who could blame her?
Feeling only marginally better about
Drawn to the mesmerizing sight, she ventured closer to the water, hugging her arms around her waist as the incoming waves lapped precariously close to her toes.
At one point, she stopped and allowed the water to caress her feet and surround her ankles. There she stood, staring over the expanse of the ocean, stargazing like a dreamer. It would take a million wishes to fix the mess she was currently in. And maybe that was what had gotten her into this situation in the first place.
Stupid dreams. Stupid idealism. She’d been a fool to wait for the perfect guy to give her virginity to. She’d always been somewhat smug and a little holier-than-thou with her friends who’d given it up long ago. But they at least had gone into the situation with their eyes wide open. They hadn’t confused sex for love. They weren’t the ones on their honeymoon with the migraine from hell and a husband who didn’t love them.
They were looking pretty damn smart for shopping around and Ashley was looking like a moron.
She pulled out her cell phone and stared down at her contacts list. She could use the comfort of a good friend right now but she wavered on whether to send a text. She was already humiliated enough. Could she bear to tell her friends or even one friend the truth about her marriage? Or would she go back home, live a lie and hope that Devon would pretend as agreed.
Could she ever make him love her?
She lowered the hand holding the phone and then she shoved it back into her pocket. What could she say anyway in the limited number of characters allowed by a text message? Or maybe she should just tweet everyone.
Marriage fail. Honeymoon fail.
That would get the message across with plenty of characters left over.
She shoved her hands into her pockets, closed her eyes and wished for just one minute that she could go back. That she would have asked more questions.
That she would have picked up on the fact he’d never said he loved her even when Ashley made it a practice to tell him every day.
She’d just assumed he was a typical guy. Devon was reserved. He was somewhat forbidding. But she’d been wildly attracted to those qualities. Thought they were sexy. She’d been convinced that he quietly adored her and that his actions spoke louder than words.
She’d never considered even once that his actions were practiced, fake and manipulative.
Another shiver overtook her and she clamped her teeth together until pain shot through her head.
“Enough,” she said.
She had beat herself up for the last twenty-four hours, but it was Devon who was the jackass here. Not her. She’d done nothing wrong. Naiveté wasn’t a crime. Loving someone wasn’t a crime. She wouldn’t apologize for offering her love, trust and commitment to a man who didn’t deserve any of it.
He was wrong. She wasn’t.
The only thing she could control from here on out was what she did with the truth. It was no longer about what Devon wanted. If he could be a selfish jerk-wad, she could at least focus on what she wanted from this fiasco.
Then she laughed because what she wanted was the jerk-wad to love her. That might make her pathetic.
No, she couldn’t text Sylvia or Carly or Tabitha.
Definitely not Pippa. Pippa would have her in front of a lawyer in a matter of hours and then she’d likely take out a hit on Devon.
Plus her friends would tell her she was being stupid for wanting to stay in the marriage. And she may well be an idiot, but she didn’t want people telling her that.
She’d already made one mistake. It wouldn’t be the first or last and well, if it didn’t work out, at least then she could cite incompatibility and she wouldn’t have to tell everyone that the marriage had fall en apart before it had ever gotten off the ground.
She had just enough of an ego to want to save face.
Who could blame her?
Feeling only marginally better about
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