One Last Time

Book 2: The Second Time Around

by Corinne Michaels

Genres: Contemporary Romance; Friendship; Sagas; Family Life; Marriage & Divorce

Synopsis

I'm getting really good at cutting my losses.

First, the husband. Divorcing him was the best decision I ever made. But between single-parenting and job-hunting, I can't catch my breath. When a celebrity blogging job falls into my lap, I'm determined to succeed.

Until I run into Hollywood's golden-boy Noah Frazier before his interview, and I forget how to form complete sentences. His chiseled abs, irresistible smirk, and crystal blue eyes are too perfect to be real. So, what do I do?

Humiliate myself, of course.

I'm ready to forget the night from hell, yet Noah has no intention of allowing me to move on. Instead, he arranges for me to write a feature on him, ensuring a lot more time together, including new embarrassing moments. As the article takes shape, so does our relationship and I realize-I'm falling in love with him.

But when the unthinkable happens, can I even blame him for cutting his losses? What I wouldn't give for just one last time . . .

Release date: February 24, 2018

Publisher: BAAE Inc.

Print pages: 368

Sample

Chapter One

Kristin

 

 

“Just leave then!” I scream at my husband as he tells me, once again, how worthless I am. I’ve had it. Years I’ve stayed by his side, but I won’t do this anymore. No one should feel this empty and unloved.

 

“I’m not leaving this house, Kristin. If you want this to be over, then pack your shit and get the hell out of my house.”

 

I stare at the man I’ve loved since I was twenty-two. The father of my children. The person I thought I’d grow old beside. The man before me is a mirage of that man. Scott has changed so much in the last fourteen years that he’s unrecognizable. Now, he’s just someone that I used to love.

 

The man I knew would never throw me away so easily. He would’ve done anything to make it work.

 

“This isn’t just your house, Scott. I’m your wife!”

 

He shakes his head with a smirk. “I’m the one who pays for it. How will you afford your designer lifestyle without a job?”

 

Designer lifestyle? I can’t remember the last time I bought myself anything. Mostly because I’d rather not listen to how stupid I am.

 

“I’ll get a job and do what I need to. I’m not moving out because of that.”

 

He rubs the bridge of his nose. “So, now you’ll work, but not the last ten years?”

 

“You wanted me to stay home with Aubrey and Finn! You told me to quit my job, you don’t get to throw it back in my face!” I slam my hand on the table.

 

It’s like Groundhog Day with us. The same fight, over and over, with nothing ever reconciling. I have a master’s in communications, and it’s the one thing neither of us does well.

 

Scott demanded I quit my job as a reporter when we found out I was pregnant with Finn. I was always traveling, covering breaking stories, and he felt I wouldn’t be able to devote enough time to being a mom.

 

At first, it made sense. I always wanted to be the kind of mother who baked cookies or sent the kids off to school with a kiss on the cheek and their lunches made. My mom was that way, and I have the fondest memories because of it. I think she might have been part alien because, most days, I’m lucky if my kids wear clothes that match and have enough money in their lunch accounts.

 

My life is nothing like I thought it’d be. Instead of baking, I’m running around trying to keep the house clean so he isn’t angry. I spend an hour at the gym so Scott doesn’t tell me how I’ve let myself go. Between trying to look like the perfect wife and mother and actually being one, I’m drowning.

 

And Scott is holding my head under as I gasp for air.

 

Scott grips the edge of the table and stares at me. “I’m always the bad guy here. I made you leave your job. I made you have kids. I made you be the miserable woman you are. I’m the one who made you cold and bitter, right? I did it all. So fucking go!”

 

Tears spring up in my eyes as he slashes my heart apart. “I’m that expendable to you?”

 

Scott’s eyes fill with rage. “You’re the one who wants to leave, Kristin. It’s you standing there, all high and mighty and telling me to leave. God forbid, I want a wife who actually likes me. When was the last time you actually wanted to have sex with me? When have you given me what I need, huh?”

 

Once again, we move to the next part of the argument. “It’s hard to want someone who makes you feel like shit.”

 

“And how do I do that, Kris? By telling you the truth about your issues?”

 

My issues. It’s always my issues, even when we talk about his. It’s me who causes his reactions. Scott has no accountability for anything that happens in our life. It’s always bounced to someone else. I’m so damn tired of being the reason for everything wrong in his life, of feeling small.

 

“Sure, Scott. That’s it.”

 

There’s no point in arguing. I’ve tried so many times, and nothing I say matters.

 

Our kids are with my parents, and this was supposed to be a weekend for us to reconnect. My mother knew we were at the breaking point, and I wanted to try one more time. I thought that if we could spend some time together, just us, we’d find a way.

 

It seems I was a fool once again.

 

“I’m so tired of having to fix everything in this marriage,” Scott says as he paces around the room. “You keep saying you want to make me happy, but then you do everything wrong. It’s exhausting repeating myself.”

 

Yeah, it’s exhausting, all right.

 

I feel myself start to drift to that place in my head to protect myself. There’s only so much I can take before I’m completely shattered. “Stop,” I beg.

 

“When will you learn, Kristin? If you gave a little more effort, I wouldn’t be so disappointed.”

 

I do nothing right. Nothing. I don’t dress the way he thinks I should, raise the kids the way his mother did, look the way I did when he fell in love with me, and Lord knows, I don’t please him in any way.

 

“I guess I’ll never learn,” I say to pacify him.

 

“I guess not.” He crosses his arms over his chest and stares at me.

 

My husband was once a good man. He doted on me and told me I was the most beautiful woman he’d ever beheld. Everything about us seemed to just fit. Two years after we were married . . . it changed. No longer was I perfect for him. Instead, I was difficult and needy. It was a snowball that kept growing bigger the farther it rolled. I thought I could make him happy, so I tried harder and failed more.

 

He wanted a baby. If I could give him a child, we’d be fine. I truly believed that, but each month I got my period, he’d remind me how I couldn’t even give him a baby.

 

The day I found out I was pregnant with Finn, things changed. The man I love came back to me. But after Aubrey, I was back to being worthless.

 

That snowball has rolled me over and left me lifeless.

 

“It never changes,” he huffs. “I’m done trying!”

 

So am I. I’m tired of being tired. I’m over having my heart trampled for nothing. He’ll never love me. I’ve got nothing left to give.

 

“How did we get here?” My voice cracks as the pain takes hold. “How has this become our life? I used to love you so much it hurt to breathe, and now? Now, it just hurts. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t spend every night with us at each other’s throats. It’s too hard.”

 

“If you’d just try to do more—”

 

“If I’d just? Are you kidding me? All I do is try! All I do is give you what you want, but it’s never enough!” My God. How can this be all on me? I can’t possibly be that bad. I do try. I try and try, and it never changes.

 

Scott runs his hands down his face. “You used to be.”

 

“Right.” A tear falls. “I used to be a lot of things, and so did you.”

 

My heart squeezes and everything inside me hurts. I look at Scott, wanting one reason to fight. If I could find some glimmer of hope that we could figure out a way, I’d garner the strength to go on.

 

His eyes meet mine, and I know there’s nothing left to fight for.

 

There’s no hope left, and I break. A strangled sound escapes my lips at the loss I feel deep in my bones.

 

He moves quickly, gathering me into his arms, and I sob. I clutch him, needing to hold on because I feel so alone.

 

“Don’t cry, baby. I hate when you cry. This isn’t what I want for us, Kris.”

 

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he does care. “I don’t want to fight anymore.”

 

Scott takes my head in his hands and his eyes are soft. “Then do better.”

 

This is what he does to me. He breaks me down and then does something sweet to make me think it was in my head. I’m so fucked up because of it.

 

He doesn’t want me. He wants some version of this woman, and I can’t be that. I’m tired of trying to be that because it isn’t possible. The reality is . . . he doesn’t love me anymore, and I won’t live like this.

 

I pull back, needing space because I’ll fall right back into our pattern.

 

I hate that two people who would’ve done anything for each other are so far apart they can’t even see each other anymore. Our relationship is a series of battles, all of which I’ve lost.

 

“This isn’t okay.” I sniff. “The way you treat me. The things you say about me . . . it’s not okay, Scott.”

 

His eyes close, and a tear falls down my cheek. We both know this is the end, but I don’t know how to take the first step.

 

Anger is easy to hold on to. It’s the loss of all hope that is killing me inside.

 

“I’m not going to apologize for the truth. I think you should pack and leave.”

 

I don’t want to lose my husband, but I won’t be this woman anymore.

 

I take a step back, wipe the moisture from my cheek, and nod. “I hoped . . .” I’m not sure what I hoped for. Maybe it was for him to love me enough, but he never did.

 

His brown eyes pierce through me. “I’m tired of being miserable and neglected.”

 

Hurt and anger flood through me. He’s such an asshole. He thinks he’s neglected? Unreal. I erect the walls around my battered heart so nothing else he’ll say will hurt me. “Okay then. I’m sorry you feel that way. Where do we go from here?” I ask matter-of-factly.

 

“I want a divorce.”

 

Four words.

 

Four words are all it takes to destroy my seemingly perfect life.

 

“And what do we tell the kids?” I choke on the words. Scott may be a shitty husband, but he’s always been a great father.

 

This is what hurts deeper than anything he’s done to me. The fact that we’ll disrupt our children’s lives with this is almost more than I can take.

 

Those two little angels are what have kept us trying this long. Finn and Aubrey don’t deserve the home they’re living in now, though. The constant fighting, the angry words, finding their father on the couch night after night. It isn’t healthy or fair to anyone.

 

Aubrey is who I worry about. She adores her father, and this will destroy her. Every little girl’s first love is her father, and I hate that she’ll know what it’s like to lose him in a small way.

 

Scott grips the back of his neck and drops his head. “I don’t know.”

 

When his eyes lift, I see the glimmering of unshed tears. A tiny glimpse of the man I once knew returns. I know he’s in there, and I wish he’d come back. I take a step forward. My heart is pulled in so many different directions. Wanting to save him, wanting to love him, and wanting to leave.

 

Then I remember that he’s done. He’s said the words that he can’t ever take back. In all the years we’ve been battling this, we’ve never said the d-word. I thought if one of us ever did that I would fall to pieces. In my head, the scene was of me crying and begging him to love me, him assuring me that he did, and then we’d find a way. I hadn’t realized that even in the sadness, there would be a swell of relief. I’ve been in purgatory for so long. I’m ready to live my life again.

 

“Well.” I suck in a breath. “I think the first thing we do is decide who leaves, and then we should make a plan to talk to the kids.”

 

Scott and I sit at the table, and for the first time all night, we act like adults. There’s no screaming or name-calling. We work to create a list of things that need to be handled and who will tackle each task. We don’t have much debt, which is thanks to the inheritance my grandfather left me, so that is handled quickly. We both agree to tell the kids together and try to keep things civil. The last two items are the ones that will be where, hopefully, this whole grown-up act doesn’t fall apart.

 

The house and the kids.

 

He’s going to have to kill me before he gets the kids. I won’t give them up.

 

“We’ve put these off, but we should make the choices,” Scott says with his hands clasped.

 

“The house.” I place the pen on the table.

 

This is the one I’m willing to concede if I have to. I can live with my parents or ask my best friend, Heather, to stay at her place since it’s empty. There are options for me, but I can’t live without my babies.

 

“I’d like to stay here. You can’t pay the mortgage, and I can’t afford rent and the mortgage,” Scott requests.

 

“What about the kids?” I switch because, really, that’s all that matters.

 

He sighs. “I won’t do that to you.”

 

“You won’t what?”

 

I pray he’s telling me he won’t try to take them. They’re all I have.

 

He runs his fingers through his hair. “As much as I want them, I can’t do it. I travel too much, and we both know Finn will never leave you. However, I want them on weekends and stuff like that. I love them, too.”

 

“Thank you,” I say with gratitude.

 

We both agree that he’ll remain in the house, but we’ll split some of the furniture to keep the kids as comfortable as possible. I’m not sure how this will work, but at least we’re in agreement for the most part.

 

I climb into bed and the cold sheets cause me to shiver. My hand slides across to where my husband should be, but it’s empty. Scott won’t be there anymore. The events of the day come crashing around me.

 

It’s really over. My husband and I are divorcing.

 

I clutch the pillow and bury my face, trying to muffle the sounds of my uncontrollable crying. I never knew a heart could hurt so much, but I’m in agony. I love him, but it’s over. We couldn’t make things work, and I’ve failed. I gasp for breath as the tears soak my pillow.

 

“Kristin?” His deep voice fills the room.

 

“Please don’t,” I plead. I don’t want him to see me this way.

 

Scott moves forward anyway and then crouches beside me. Even in the dark, I see the pain in his eyes. “Don’t cry, baby.”

 

That breaks me. I cry harder than before, and he pulls me into his arms. He holds me to his chest, and I struggle to gain control. There’s just no stopping the tears. I cry for the years we had, the years we’ve lost, and the years we’ll never have. I would’ve stayed if he told me he wanted to try. I know it’s stupid, but giving up on him feels like defeat.

 

After a while, I start to relax. My heart still aches, but I’m not sobbing. Scott rubs my back, and I sniffle. “I’ll be okay.”

 

He leans back and cups my face. “Are you sure?”

 

“I’m just sad.”

 

“I’m not happy about this, either, Kris.”

 

That’s the worst part, we both love each other, but we can’t fix what’s broken. “I know.”

 

His forehead rests on mine, and we both sit here. Scott’s thumb moves across my cheek as he tilts my head up. “I loved you, Kristin.” His voice is husky. “You were the most beautiful woman in the world.”

 

My heart races as something shifts between us. “Scott,” I whisper. I’m not sure if I’m asking him to stop or to keep going. How do you stop loving someone? How do you push away the only man you’ve ever loved?

 

He’s still my husband.

 

The air in the room is charged as we breathe each other in. Scott’s other hand glides to my neck before sliding down my chest. My body tingles as he grazes my breast.

 

“Tell me to stop, and I will,” he murmurs against my lips. “One more time, Kris. I need this. I need to feel you.”

 

Confliction stirs, but I’m so raw I can’t say the words no matter how much I want to. I’ve been lonely, and I want to be loved for once.

 

Just as our lips brush, Scott plunges forward. He guides me to my back as I welcome his weight above me. His mouth melts against mine, and I kiss him like none of the events of the day happened. He moans into my mouth while I cling to him. I need him to make me feel alive.

 

It’s been so long. Too long to count since we’ve made love. How many nights did I pray he’d come to me, love me, but he hadn’t.

 

My hands tangle in his dark brown hair, holding his lips to mine. I force myself to pretend we’re still madly in love and life is perfect.

 

But we aren’t perfect.

 

This is a fantasy that will end in tragedy if I get lost in the illusion.

 

Those four words ring in my head, reminding me why I was crying to begin with.

 

I can’t do this to myself.

 

One more time won’t do anything to stop what’s coming. He doesn’t love me anymore.

 

I disappoint him.

 

I fail him.