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  Find Me

  (2nd Edition)

  An Adult Contemporary Romance

  By

  Tory Jane

  From childhood friends to love to devastating separation. When Annabelle and Jack reunite, they must overcome secrets, mistrust, and unexpected hindrances to find forgiveness for themselves and for each other. Find Me is the story of power of love, desire, and finding oneself.

  I’ve spent the last two months finding myself again. The true Annabelle. A loving, kind, free spirit with a girlish giggle, who also happens to be smart, successful, and ambitious. Liking myself again has been a struggle. The guilt, the shame of the past five years still overwhelms me. I want to be a woman her friends can love and trust. I want to be a woman worthy of love, respect, and honesty.

  We grew up together. He describes me as a small, but powerful whirlwind, a mischievous sprite with my long, wavy hair, always ready for an adventure. No fear.

  At twenty-five, we fell in love, dancing in the moonlight. “You were irresistible. I wanted you in my life, to feel your delight, your freedom. I had to touch you. When I took you in my arms and twirled you around, I heard you giggle. You were the personification of joy, and I desperately wanted to be within your orbit. Your happiness, your freedom, nourished my soul.”

  Five blissful years, and then he left to pursue his dreams. Without me. He disappeared for five years. That wasn’t the plan. I blamed myself. I was damaged, broken, and unlovable. I grieved, grew bitter, and self-destructive.

  Jack has returned. Five years without a word. Now he whispers the words I’ve longed to hear. How can I trust him? We are both keeping secrets. Secrets that could destroy this dream.

  Find Me is a stand-alone, adult contemporary romance with a HEA.

  Dedication

  I dedicate this book to my fabulous, brilliant, beautiful daughter. At fourteen, she has more self-composure and confidence than most people do. She is an extraordinary person who will do extraordinary things.

  I hope and pray she never loses sight of who she is and what she wants.

  Yet, I know that even during the dark times, she will find herself.

  I love you, Kate the Great.

  The world is a better place with you in it.

  Prologue

  Tonight we witnessed the beauty of Peter’s love story to Julia. The man splashed his adoration across the walls of a gallery for everyone to see. Hell, if it moved my shriveled heart, I can't imagine what Julia felt.

  Wallace and I drive her home while Peter finishes business with the gallery and his agent. Julia is still emotional, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. We follow her into the house and gather in the kitchen for our traditional post-event recap. Wallace hands a cigarette to each of us. I quit smoking years ago, but on special occasions, still indulge.

  “I shouldn’t,” Julia murmurs as she lights up.

  I put on the teapot on and gather up mugs for tea. “What do you mean you shouldn’t?” I’ve never known Julia to turn down a cigarette. She and Wallace are the worst closet smokers in the history of time.

  Julia remains quiet and keeps her eyes lowered. I pour the tea, adding milk and sugar to each mug.

  “Julia, what do you mean you shouldn’t?” I look to Wallace for clarification. She too remains quiet. We all smoke and sip our tea.

  It dawns on me. “Holy shit. You’re pregnant.”

  Julia jerks her head up.

  “You are, aren’t you? The emotions, the fatigue. Hormones are a bitch, aren’t they? Does he know?”

  Julia, wide-eyed, shakes her head. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want to upset you.”

  “Upset me? My sweet friend, are you happy?”

  “Scared, hormonal, but ecstatic.”

  “Then I’m happy for you. I love you.”

  Wallace cups Julia’s cheek. “You saw the painting. He wants this as much as you do. Julia, the exhibit was stunning in its honesty and vulnerability. Please allow yourself to feel joy.”

  “He’ll be here soon, won’t he?” I ask.

  Fear flashes across Julia’s face. “Yes.”

  “Stop that. No fear. Peter is not Jack. He’s not going to leave you.” I swallow my tears.

  “Belle’s right. Trust him. You deserve this.”

  “It’s only been a month. We barely know each other. I’ve been an irresponsible, horny teenager. It’s embarrassing.”

  Wallace wipes away another tear. “You’re an independent, successful adult woman. When will you stop caring what everyone else thinks? Do you want a baby?”

  “Yes. I always have, but I knew I couldn’t with Jimmy. Now I’m thirty-six years old. I considered doing it on my own. I never expected Peter.”

  “Do you want Peter?”

  “More than I thought possible. He’s my person.”

  I hold her hand. “You found your happily ever after.”

  Julia squeezes my hand. “You’ll find yours, too. I believe that.”

  “Yeah,” I roll my eyes. “Let’s focus on yours right now, okay?”

  Wallace hands her two more cigarettes. “Quit tomorrow, okay?”

  We gather up our things and share another group hug.

  Wallace kisses her cheek. “You’re going to be a great mom. I promise you. You cannot imagine how much fun you're going to have.”

  Tonight we shared the best night the three of us have had in months. For the past five years, I’ve spiraled into depression, anger, and self-destruction. I have not been a good friend. Almost a month ago, my past confronted me, and I tumbled further. I lost my shit. The two women hugging me pulled me off the edge of the abyss.

  Since then, I’ve been trying to demonstrate my love for them and that I can be stable and responsible. Tonight I believed I was making progress. I remembered what joy felt like.

  I should be celebrating. Instead, I fear I may puke. I'm a selfish, jealous bitch. If I were making progress, I would be crowing with joy. I am broken.

  I smile as I clench my teeth so tightly they may shatter into a million pieces. Like my heart.

  The problem is that I've been grieving, angry, and confused for five years. I'm not a vengeful bitch, though. I love my friend. I cannot ruin this for her. I will not make it about me.

  I guessed she was pregnant because I remember the mood swings, the fatigue, and the morning sickness. I too gave up caffeine, alcohol, cigarettes. I did everything right. I was the perfect mother to my baby boy. He still left me. He rejected my body. I never met him. Never held him.

  I've never told a soul, not even his father, the love of my life. Jack left me before I could share the happy news. When our baby left me, I could not find him to share the grief.

  A month ago, I saw Jack. I hid and watched him talking to a baby boy who has his eyes. Jack has returned to Charleston, but he has not attempted to contact me. When he left, he promised he'd come back for me. He swore he would always find me. I’m still waiting.

  Tis the Season

  Charleston knows how to put on a show. Holiday decorations are elegant, classic, and festive. White fairy lights festoon the palm trees that line Broad Street. Wreaths with red velvet bows hang from the historic gas lampposts. In the middle of the main shopping section of King Street, stands a tall fir tree decked out in Christmas regalia.

  This section of King Street is bustling with shoppers. I feel the Christmas spirit when business picks up at my shop, Bella Boutique. Women rush in looking for the perfect outfits for office parties, holiday family photos, and full-on glitter for New Years’ Eve. I have a loyal clientele, but I count on the holiday season each year to get me through the financial doldrums of January.

  I hired a part-time assistant to work through the entire holiday season. I need the help and she’ll give me the luxury to s
neak out and play a bit myself. I hope I’m not making a mistake trusting her to handle the shop on her own.

  Cecelia is a senior at the College of Charleston. Jack’s mother, Mrs. Cliff, my mother’s best friend, recommended her. Cecelia’s mother is a member of their social circle. She seems responsible, but how can I know for sure? I feel old thinking this, but kids today are different. They have a casual, laissez-faire approach to life, work, drugs, and sex. Not that I've been a goody two shoes in my life, but they have taken it to a completely new level since my college days, fifteen years ago.

  Today, for the first time, Cecelia will cover the shop for me while I spend much-needed time with Wallace. She has agreed to come downtown and meet me for lunch. We’ve been going through a rough spot.

  It's entirely my fault.

  Two months’ ago, I discovered Jack was back in town, and I spun out of control. I haven’t been the same since he left, five years ago. But that day? I lost my shit and went on a hate spree of self-destruction. I treated Julia and Wallace, the two people I love most in my life, other than my parents, as if my pain was their fault. I was an entitled, self-destructive brat. They had every right to cut me out of their lives. Instead, they loved me and helped me get help. I'm not too proud to grovel for their forgiveness.

  I’m not sure why it surprises me, but Wallace has been a tougher nut to crack than Julia has. I may have manipulated Wallace, and lied to her, but I knew better than to be vicious. I don’t think she believed I was capable of cruelty until she witnessed me attack Julia several times. It opened her eyes and she expects me to earn her trust back.

  I was hateful to Julia. My cruelty was a new low. I thought she was weak and would take it. She stunned me with her strength and confronted me. Then she let it go, on the condition I seek professional help. She seems to have forgiven me, although she remains cautious. She's also madly in love and pregnant. Julia is a walking beam of sunshine and forgiveness.

  Wallace has all of her faculties intact. She never confronted me. Perhaps she should have. She listened and told me she understood. I know her walls are still up, though. I fucked up, and she's been watching me like a hawk. A trained psychologist, she laid the ground rules for my recovery and road to redemption. She found a psychiatrist and a therapist for me and arranged for emergency treatment.

  I am committed to getting healthy. I see my therapist twice a week and resumed a regimen of anti-depressants. I feel hope, even moments of happiness. I also feel pain as the numbness fades. I’m starting to feel like Belle again, when I liked myself.

  I no longer run to Julia and Wallace for self-indulgent solace. Instead, I cry to my therapist, who assures me I'm making progress. She encourages me to talk about the death of my baby and Jack’s departure. She insists it is not a sign of weakness to grieve. I'm working on it, but I buried the truth for five years and it isn’t easy to unearth. I haven't found the strength to admit my loss to anyone but her.

  I want to show Wallace and Julia that I am stronger, healthier, and trustworthy. I miss them. They deserve to know how grateful I am. Especially Wallace. She has always helped keep me grounded. I need to do something special for her. She is the friend who takes care of everyone else.

  Wallace is classically beautiful and wholesome. Tall, athletic, with long, thick blonde hair, smooth, clear skin, and bright, crystal blue eyes. However, the woman is in a rut. I swear she's had the same look since college. Since she closed her counseling practice six years ago, I don't remember the last time I’ve seen her in anything but yoga pants, a fleece, and trainers. With no makeup and her hair in a messy bun, she still manages to look stunning; but I would love to see her in something funky and stylish.

  In addition to lunch today, my goal is to pamper her. I asked her to meet me at the boutique. While I wait for her, I pull together some outfits for her to try on and hang them on a rack. Nothing too crazy. Skinny jeans, flowy tunic, belt, and leopard print booties. Maybe something for the holidays? A forest green velvet, deep-v blouse with skinny black pants and strappy heels. She'd look hot. Would she wear a dress? That might be pushing it.

  I focus on mentally styling Wallace, eyes darting around the shop for ideas, and don't notice her arrival until she's standing in front of me. Yoga pants, Under Armor jacket, white t-shirt, and white trainers. At least her athleisure wear shows off her perfect body.

  She looks wary. “What are you up to, Belle?”

  “Having fun. Fantasizing about you in these clothes.” I flash her an innocent grin.

  She eyes the items on the rack. “They’re beautiful, but where would I wear this stuff? The kids would put their sticky fingers on me and ruin it all.”

  “I know it feels like it sometimes, but you’re not with your kids every second of the day. If you are, it’s time for you to get some help and do more things for yourself. You deserve it.

  “As for where you can you wear them? Let’s start with today. To lunch with me. I’m offering a fabulous friend discount today. Please? For me?”

  She sighs and crosses her arms. Then reaches out and fingers the tunic and velvet top. “I do have some holiday events I have to attend in the next few weeks, and Ben's office party. Maybe I could try to look hip and not like a dowdy soccer mom. Competing with the women in Mt. Pleasant is impossible. They have kids and still manage to look perfect, and stick-thin. I'd like to look fashionable for a change.”

  I literally squeal with excitement. “You’ve made my day, my week, and my month.” I pull the rack over to the dressing room. “Will you put on a fashion show for me? I swear these are going to look fabulous on you. I only chose things in which you’d feel comfortable. I’m not going to push a black, sequined mini dress on you. We have to build up to that,” I wink.

  She grumbles under her breath but heads into the dressing room. I hear her mutter, “Can you find a cocktail dress for me? And I’ve seen a lot of velvet jackets this season that I kinda like.”

  I stand there, mouth agape. Is Wallace going to try a new look? “Absolutely. Let me pull some more things for you. When you come out, we can try some accessories, too?”

  “Fine. Whatever. Do your thing.”

  We spend the next hour playing. Wallace agrees to try on whatever I bring her, and we start to develop a style and a pile of clothes. I catch her smiling at herself in the three-way mirror, checking herself out from every angle.

  She should be smiling. She looks phenomenal in everything she tries. I’m giddy, bouncing around and praising her to high heaven. It’s been too long since I’ve felt this happy. It may sound trivial, but to see my friend recognize her beauty? It brings me joy.

  When I bring her another armful, she puts her hands up. “No, no. We must stop. I’m starving and exhausted from trying on clothes. Look how much we’ve piled up. Ben’s going to kill me.”

  “Are you kidding? His sexy, hip wife is going to blow him away. I love what you've chosen. Casual chic but with an edge. You have great taste, and everything looks amazing on that perfect body. Why don't you ever treat yourself?”

  “I don’t know. You and Julia have always had style. I never thought it was that important. I’m just a wife, a mom. What does it matter how I dress or what I look like?”

  “I watched you as you tried on clothes. You know what you like, and you liked what you saw. You are not “just” anything. You’re a rock star. Admit it.”

  A shy smile on her face, “I do look pretty good. For an old lady. I like what we picked out. Maybe I’ll wear something new to lunch?”

  “I think you’ll have to. I’ve hidden what you were wearing.”

  She looks around the dressing room and realizes I’m not kidding. “Belle. You’re terrible.” Yet, she smiles and hugs me and I know I’ve done well, for a change. “Get out of here and let me get dressed and then you’re taking me somewhere cool for lunch. I need to show off my new look.”

  “Maybe we could pop into Sephora for a make-over? Lipstick, mascara?”

  “Don’t
push it. Let’s save something for the next time.”

  ***

  We head out, loaded down with bags. Wallace looks hot. She is grinning and checking herself out in the reflection of the windows, we pass. She stops suddenly and looks down into my eyes.

  “Thank you, Belle. I needed that.”

  “Are you kidding? Thank you. You made my day.”

  We’re standing there grinning at each other, looking like idiots. I feel her stiffen and see a look of shock in her eyes.

  “What? What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “Take a deep breath and brace yourself. There is someone headed our way.”

  I feel the anxiety and panic before I see him. I know who we’re about to see. It’s time for a best actress award performance.

  We turn and come face to face with John Charles Cliff. Jack.

  I’m still grinning like a crazy woman.

  He looks guarded and then smiles at us both. “Bella Belle and Wallace. I was wondering when I’d run into you.” He leans in and kisses us each on the cheek.

  “Why, Jack Cliff. As I live and breathe. How long has it been? Five years? What are you doing here? Are you visiting your family for the holidays?” I am Scarlett O'Hara personified. What am I doing?

  Wallace gives me a side-eye as if I’ve lost my mind and mutters, “Hey Jack. It’s nice to see you. You look great.” Wallace has never forgiven him for what he did.

  He does look great. He’s become a man. A gorgeous, sophisticated man. Gone is the stoner, surfer boy I once loved. He’s been replaced by a stylish, hip designer in a slim black suit. He’s so shiny and pretty. He even smells expensive.

  “You both look as beautiful as ever. I hope you’re doing well?”

  “We’re having a wonderful day. We were just at my boutique shopping for Wallace. That’s right, you wouldn’t know. I have a new shop now. Up on Society Street. I sold the vintage store and went upscale. It’s quite posh. Now we’re heading to Charleston Place for a fancy lunch.” I’m babbling. Shut up, Belle.

  “So, will you be in town long? You should stop by the shop and catch up.”