Frayed

Frayed

Pamela Ann

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without a written permission from the author, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review.

Copyright © 2013

B
y Pamela Ann

All Rights Reserved.

Acknowledgments

To my amazing beta readers, Cami Hesnault, Dawn Martens, Tia Marie and Beck Sewell. I want to thank each and one of you incredible ladies for taking the time and effort to help me hone the book to its fullest potential. All of your input was substantial and I am more than grateful for all of your detailed feedback. Your love and support helped me through the writing process.

Mom, as always, you rock!
Niko
, I love you very much. To my brother, Lorenzo, I do appreciate your comical monstrosities, thank you. And to my sister, Amelia, thank you. I love you both dearly.

Lastly, to all of my readers, especially my Facebook dolls, Triple
M’ers
and
Goodreads
folks, I graciously express my heartfelt gratitude for all the support you’ve all shown. Thank you all for making my dreams into reality.

For those who loved with all of their heart
s—got betrayed and left broken…
this is for you
.

Prologue

If someone would have told me a year ago that my life would be irrevocably wrecked, I would’ve laughed in their face. You see, I was once a good-natured person. A fun-loving, devil-may-care woman, who laughed a lot and partied until the sun came up.

Yes, I was a party girl. Why? Because it was fun and I had a blast dancing and flirting with guys. Flirting was my thing.

It was my specialty.

Even though I partied, kissed and sometimes ended up doing more with these guys, I never loved any of them. Do I have any qualms about falling in love? No, never that. I always wanted to fall in love
, but none of the guys made it happen for me.

Well, at least none of the guys I kissed and hooked-up with, anyway.

That is, until Harry.

Harry was the perfect man.

Unfortunately, he was perfect for my cousin, Harry’s wife, Becka, too.

Yes
, Harry’s married… to my cousin.

Did I plan to fall madly in love with him? Never!

But it happened… and there was nothing I could do once it did. I was sucked into this unique world. A world where all I could ever do was follow where my heart would beat at a speedy, exhilarating rate.

I lived for Harry.

I breathed for Harry.

I
loved
for Harry.

Even though I knew having an affair with him was immoral and
, without a doubt, scandalous, I didn’t care. Nothing mattered then. No thought, rhyme or reason could deter me;
us
.

Once our lips touched,
the flames were instantly ignited.

The fire was consuming, searing and hot.
If I were a wiser person, I would have known that
fire
—once it gets out of hand—cannot be controlled.

It
spreads
, destroying everything it could reach and everything that was in its way.

It
devours
all with
totality
.

And sometimes it causes
fatality
.

I could’ve prevented
this devastation if I had not succumbed to the wills of my heart and body.

One kiss was all it took to destroy me.

One gargantuan mistake was all it took to end me.

A month ago, Harry killed me.

But he didn’t know.

No one did.

Chapter 1

About a month ago…

“Congratulations! You’re going to be a new mommy!” The enthusiastic, middle-aged doctor announced. I sat there, immobilized and speechless as her words rang in my ears.

“Oh…
I am?
” I whispered, wholly aghast.
Pregnant… with Harry’s baby…
The thought alone brought happy and sad tears into my eyes.

The doctor dimmed the lights before she started to prep me for the ultrasound. She was telling me a story about some pregnant woman, but I could barely hear her.
Quite simply, I was distraught and horrifically panicked. When the doctor lifted my gown and exposed my belly, she kindly warned me that the gel would be a little cold. I moved my head to the side, away from the small screen, as the realization of what my thoughtless actions had borne with them. Before I knew it, the whole room was surrounded by a loud whooshing sound.

A heartbeat.

My baby’s heartbeat…

“Let
’s, see. You’re about thirteen weeks,” The doctor continued as she started to point on the screen, telling me which part was what.

She pointed out the
baby’s head and told me what was developing at this stage. Curious, I made an effort to watch the tiny screen. I barely nodded at her while I stared blankly at the screen, seeing the tiny seed that was my baby, but really not seeing it.
How had this happened?
We were always careful. Harry always wore protection. Every. Single. Time.

“Do you have any questions for me?” The jovial doctor asked, while she maneuvered around and studied the screen closely.

Tons
, I had so many to ask, but no answers for her to give. “I think you’ve explained everything,” I responded flatly. This was the worst possible outcome of our affair. All the possible bad scenarios played in my head as the doctor did her own thing. The first one was Harry’s reaction. The second one was the outcome of this pregnancy.

I barely registered what the doctor was talking about as she carefully cleaned my belly off and slowly pulled my gown back to order. While giving me some sort of pregnancy advice, she was jotting down
a prescription for my pre-natal vitamins and whatever else she thought I needed. The doctor was rather oblivious to the horrified expression I have had ever since she announced the pregnancy less than an hour ago. When my period didn’t come as scheduled, my intuition pointed towards stress, but never pregnancy.

I was about ready to leave,
when the doctor immediately got up and handed me a few of the ultrasound pictures. “Here, I forgot to hand these to you. Be safe now and don’t forget to stop by at the pharmacy to get your vitamins. I will see you some time next month at your next appointment, when you’re in your second trimester.” She smiled kindly at me, blind to the turmoil I was emotionally going through.
Could she not see the sadness in my eyes?

I murmured my thanks without glancing at the pictures before leaving the room. My legs felt like jelly, numbed inside. With utmost determination, I huffed out a deep breath and started to walk out of the medical building. My off-white Mercedes SUV was parked closely. Once I was in the safe confines of my car, I summoned all of my energy to brave it out and look at the ultrasound photos.

The two by two black and white photos stunned me. My finger traced the tiny white form on the picture as tears gathered in my eyes again.

H
arry and I were always careful.

What the hell do I tell everyone, most especially my parents? This was going to be a big mess.
A mistress with a baby. My mom will die if she finds out her first grandchild is going to be a bastard. She will say it and see it as such.

My thoughts ceased
as I heard my phone ring.

Harry.

I wiped my tears away before I took the call. “Hey!” I tried to sound as normal as I could.

“I’m at the hotel. Where are you? I only have a few hours and I want to make use of those hours buried inside you.” Harry tried to sound seductive
, yet he failed miserably. He used this tone when he was stressed out. I knew for a fact that my cousin Becka was having a hard time with her pregnancy, and she always lashed out at him because of it.

“I’ll be there in twenty. See you.” I started the engine before I ended the call. For the entire ride, my thoughts provoked me.

Truth be told, I wasn’t sure what Harry would really feel or think. Maybe when he’s made his choice, maybe then, I can allow myself to think what I really feel about the whole pregnancy. Because as of right now, the only feeling I have is indifference—numbness.  

I was meeting up
with Harry in our usual hideout, in the Four Seasons cottage, always booked every two weeks for two nights. I used to count down the days until he was mine again. Before Becka got pregnant, I used to get two nights with him. In these nights, we were simply a man and a woman, but now, I only get a few hours a week, or a night here and there. I wasn’t happy about it, but I didn’t have a say in it. It’s either I end it with him or stick to what he could offer me, and I always chose to be with him. Always.