but they divorced after one year of marriage.Though she wasn’t at fault, some readers criticized her ability tocapture the truth in her story. Some accused her of putting theirrelationship on a pedestal. Chantelle rolled her eyes. Theycouldn’t be serious. How did her article affect their marriage?

Grunting, she closed out her article. Was shecut out for this? It wasn’t as if she were a relationship expert.Even her last relationship failed.

Assuming she and Bryce were a perfect match,Chantelle tried to be the supportive girlfriend, but things changedfrom when they first started dating. It wasn’t fun anymore.Chantelle had to look her best at all times to appeal to hiscorporate colleagues. Her beauty captivated the room when shewalked in, and her social skills proved promising when at aparty.

Yet, she couldn’t take it anymore. Brycebroke up with her, claiming she didn’t understand “his world.”Whatever that meant. She didn’t want any part of it. Though he wasa good man overall, they weren’t suitable.

Wrapping herself in the blanket, Chantellewalked back to her room. Sitting on her bed, she charged her phone.Then a knock came at the door.

“Come in,” she said.

Her stepfather walked inside with a foodtray. “Your mother insists that you eat this.”

“I’m not sick.”

He placed it at the foot of her bed. “Herwords, not mine.”

Chantelle leaned over to see her mother’shomemade chicken soup. The steam heated her face, and the aromatickled her nose. “I’ll eat it later.”

Douglas nodded. “I hope you feel better.” Hedidn’t say another word, but turned to leave.

Chantelle blew out her cheeks, taking anopportunity with him. “I hope so too. I can’t afford to getsick.”

Douglas stopped in his tracks. He faced her.“Are you excited about your article? Have you… written anythingyet?”

Chantelle appreciated his interest. “Overall,yes. Nothing written yet. There is pressure though.”

“To...?”

“Deliver. This is an important piece ofwork.”

Douglas nodded. “I’m sure you’ll do well.” Hegestured at the bowl of soup. “Eat some so I can tell yourmother.”

Chantelle raised her hand as if taking anoath in a courtroom. Douglas smiled and left this time, closing thedoor behind him. Despite the friendship she wanted to build withher stepfather, her own father’s face invaded her thoughts.

She shut her eyes. Standing over her father’sgrave wouldn’t get any easier. She could still hear his laugh as hewould tickle her as a girl. The cheers he would yell at her duringvolleyball games. He was the best father a daughter could ask for.Licking her lips, she willed the tears to stay at bay.

Scooting closer to the edge, she sat the foodtray in her lap. It warmed her from the inside out as she ate,loving the taste of her mother’s food. Chicken, celery, carrots,and tender noodles with her mother’s special chicken broth.Chantelle needed to visit more often. No one cooked like hermother, though she tried to imitate her skills in the kitchen.

A-CHOO! Her eyes widened. She would take acold pill before bed, but first, she finished the rest of her soup.After returning her tray to the kitchen, she cleaned her bowl. Warmwater rushed over her skin as slipperiness of the soap sudsincreased.

Drying her hands, she leaned against thecounter. While a feeling of weightlessness took over the moment shearrived home, it didn’t deny the widespread numbness. Then shetouched a hand to her stomach. It would never get easier. One year.Three years. In her case, ten years. Chantelle released a heavysigh. She wasn’t angry. She’d healed, but that didn’t change thepast.

No point in keeping herself up about it.Chantelle turned in early for the night. She needed a good night’ssleep. She would need all her energy for her interview withLance.

***

Lance dabbed the sweat from his forehead ashe finished his last push up. An evening with his parents shouldhave exhausted him, but only adrenaline raced through hisblood.

The exercise helped release the stress. Theyweren’t a family anymore. He was only existing with them.

He gulped his water bottle. He and Andreawere starting their own family together. Marriage wouldn’t cure hisrelationship with his parents, but it would give him something elseto focus on besides his family’s dysfunction. The cycle couldn’tcontinue. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

Though his parents weren’t his favoritepeople, they stayed together despite the hard times. However, hisfather did better handling business as opposed to their familylife. Lance’s mother understood. Like tonight, she came to hisdefense.

Despite everything, Lance wanted that. Hewanted someone to stick by him. He wanted to come home to a family.A loving wife. Kids with smiles on their faces. He had the house.The job. The reputation of a celebrity but his house was not ahome.

Did he find that in Andrea? The model beautywent against all the stereotypes he had heard about most models.Pompous. Unsympathetic. Not Andrea. She was one of the sweetestwomen he’d ever met in a long time. No denying the chemistry. Lancerecalled touching her cheek for the first time when they kissed.Her beautiful dark brown skin glowed.

“You’re going to kiss me now, aren’t you?”She had asked, tilting her head towards his mouth.

“Would there be anything wrong if I did?” Heinched closer. His lips barely touched hers.

Andrea’s arms inched up his back. “I thinkI’ll be disappointed if you don’t.”

“I think I will be too.” He didn’t deny herany longer. His lips had pressed against hers.

They hadn’t been apart since until now.Andrea’s career was booming. Her schedule became moreunpredictable.

Lance screwed the top back on his waterbottle. Then his tablet beeped. He jerked at the buzzing on hisdesk. Someone was FaceTiming him. “Hello.”

Andrea’s face appeared on screen. With herloose brown curls in a messy bun, he saw more of her roundface.

He gave a faint smile. “How are you?”

She cupped her cheek. “Tired. How aboutyou?”

“It’s been one of those days.”

“One of those days?” She raised an archedeyebrow. “That’s not telling me much.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He heard thebite in his voice. Though Lance didn’t mean it, judging by Andrea’sforehead wrinkling, she wouldn’t ignore his attitude.

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry.”

“What’s with you today? Rough day at theoffice?”

“Something like that. I have to close thisdeal and I can’t afford any mistakes.”

“Is making partner that important toyou?”

“I’ve come too far to give up now.”

“But you don’t look...”

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