First Love (Complicated Love Book 1)

First Love

 

 

Copyright © 2016 by Heather Carver

 

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

 

The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarities to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.  The author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.

 

This book is dedicated to anyone who has found love and fights for it even when things get complicated.

 

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Epilogue

Author Bio

Acknowledgments

 

 

T
he only things a fourteen-year-old girl should worry about in high school are dating the quarterback and summer vacations.

But, during my freshman year of high school, my life changed in a blink and without warning, and after that, things were never easy for me. That moment when I saw my dad kissing an anorexic blonde with big boobs, I felt like I was drowning. A girl who didn’t look old enough for my dad to be kissing.

Why is he kissing someone who isn’t Mom?  Why is he kissing someone who doesn’t look much older than I do? 

How do you look at your dad after something like that when he’s the one guy you’ve always looked up to? The man you dreamed of marrying when you were a little girl? The man who would have a say in who you married because you wanted your husband to be like him? I always imagined that my parents would be together forever, we’d have a perfect family and not be a statistic. I don’t know what Mom’s going to do about it.

Not wanting to be seen, I ran out of the house and over to Brian's. Escaping my parents is one of the reasons I’m happy he lives next door to me. I’m not sure if Dad even realized I walked in, but at this point, I don’t care.

How can he do this to mom? How can he ruin our family? 

Without knocking, I burst through the Clark’s door and run upstairs, where I know Brian is. He’s always in his room, playing that stupid Atari. Ever since it came out last month, he hasn’t done anything else.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, “Are the hounds of Hell chasing you?”

“I…I…” I don’t know how to say what I saw.

“What’s wrong, Donna? Did something happen to your mom and dad?”

No longer able to hold the tears at bay, I fall onto his bed, sobbing.

Brian instantly wraps his arms around me. “Shhhh. Everything will be all right.”

“No, it won’t. Everything’s about to change. Change for the worse,” I manage to mumble.

“I only caught about half of what you said, but it’s okay. You can tell me about it once you calm down.”

He doesn’t ask me any more questions. He pulls me into his lap and holds me, while rubbing my back and pushing my hair out of my face. It’s been years since my mom’s done anything similar to this. Thinking about my mom makes the tears come even faster.

How am I going to tell her what I saw? How do I keep it from her? Why did I have to come straight home from school today? 

Finally, after what feels like hours, I stop crying. I feel weird that Brian comforted me through my cry fest.

“Thank you for being here for me,” I say. “Especially since all I did was cry on you.”

“I’ll always be here for you. You should know that. Can you tell me what happened now?”

“Yearbook club was canceled, so I came home to study for the stupid math test tomorrow.  You know my dad's rarely home for dinner, so I never expected him to be home at this time of day. Oh, but he was, and he was kissing some blond, anorexic-looking girl. I didn’t say anything. I ran out of there. How am I ever going to look at him again? How can I not tell my mom?”

“Donna, it isn’t your place to have to tell her. I understand you want her to know, but don’t worry yourself over it. When my dad cheated on my mom, I wanted to run and tell my mom also, but I didn’t and I felt guilty for not telling her, but she knew already. Maybe you should try and talk to your dad first. You shouldn’t be thrown into the middle of it.”

How could he have waited to tell his mom? I don’t know if I can wait. Let alone confront my dad about what I saw. How do I not act different around my mom and dad? “I don’t know how to do that,” I say.

“You have to do what feels right to you. Just because I didn’t tell my mom doesn’t mean you can’t. I also don’t know how your dad will handle you confronting him. I can be there with you if you need. I’m here for whatever you need from me.”

I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I don’t want to face either of my parents tonight. I don’t know how to act normal. I also don’t want to be the one to tell my mom about my dad. I wish I could forget I saw anything and be oblivious to it all. 

“I don’t want to go home tonight. Do you think we can convince our parents we’re studying for our math test together?”

“Yes. Then I’ll tell my mom you ended up falling asleep, so I’m going to let you sleep and you can head home in the morning.”

“That may work, but you’ll have to wait a few hours though. As far as my parents know, I’m at school still.”

“Okay. What do you want to do?”

“Can we play a video game?” I don’t want to do anything. I have no energy to even move, and I can’t think, either.

“What do you want to play?”

“I don’t know. I’ll watch you play a game.”

“Okay. If you’re sure.”

Lying in Brian’s arms makes me realize he isn’t just a guy trying any funny stuff. He really does care for me. Not many guys would hold me and not expect something in return.

I’ll always be grateful for Brian. He’s claimed a piece of my heart tonight and he doesn’t even know it yet. He’ll always be the one constant in my life. I’ll never let anything come between us or take him away from me.

 

 

I
’ve known Brian my whole life. We’ve been best friends since that fateful day. Once we turned sixteen, our families pushed us together—well, mostly our mothers. They always talked about how it’d be best for both of our families—and the family business—if we got married someday. Frankly, I always thought their pushing us together was their way of trying to prevent us from making the same mistakes they’d made in their own relationships. But Brian was my best friend. We spent every waking moment together. We’d do our homework together, go to sporting events, and watch movies. It didn’t really matter as long as we were together. Our friendship meant something to me, and dating could have ripped it all away from me if things didn’t work out between us romantically. I couldn’t lose him because he’d helped keep me sane when my parents weren’t getting along.

Being Little Miss Independent and resentful of being told whom to date—how could they give me relationship advice when they weren’t even happy with their own relationships—I put up a bit of a fight. Like most teen-aged girls, I dreamed of dating the quarterback and went after him. When he finally asked me out, I was ecstatic. Once I found out his only interests were football and…well, football, I dropped him. Then the boy who could look as good as the quarterback if he didn’t hide behind his horn-rimmed glasses and ill-fitting clothes asked me out. I said yes.

I said yes to my best friend, Brian. The boy who, no matter how he dressed or even if he wore his glasses and I couldn’t see into his crystal-blue eyes, would always own my heart.

Now, I’m proud to say he’s all mine.

I can’t believe we’ll be getting married in a few short months even though, at the age of twenty-six, I thought we’d have been married years ago. Planning a wedding is a lot of work, more than I ever imagined. If I’d known it’d be this difficult, I would have eloped. Choosing my gown, the dresses for the bridesmaids and our mothers, the venue, the flowers, the food, the cake, the photographer, which songs to play for the special dances—the list is endless and especially mind-numbing because my mom, Jolene, and soon-to-be mother-in-law, Marianne, want everything done their way. Mom wants me to wear her dress, but how can I wear that dress when I know things weren’t always happy for her and my dad? Marianne wants to wear purple, but that isn’t one of our wedding colors, so she wants me to change them. I can’t handle it anymore. I’m ready to pull my hair out.

Why do moms have to be so annoying at times?  I love my mom dearly, but we’re not seeing eye-to-eye on the wedding plans. She treats me like an indecisive kid. Before I graduated and passed the State Board Test Pool Examination for Nursing, I didn’t have a lot of time to focus on the planning, but now, I do, and I want my wishes heard.

Today, I’m finalizing some wedding plans with “The Moms” and all I’m hearing is, “Why would you pick those colors?  Why that dress?  Why those flowers? Who would even want to listen to that music? Why, why, why?”  I can’t handle their perpetual seconding-guessing anymore. It’s pissing me off, and I’m about to blow up at them. I’ve never yelled at my mother, but I’m fighting everything in me not to. I don’t know why, when I get angry, I want to cry, but I know it won’t help, so I hold the tears back.

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