Authors: J. W. Phillips
Pretty Little Lies
Copyright © 2014 J.W. Phillips
All rights reserved
Published by The Black Heart Club
This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of events to real life, or of characters to actual persons, is purely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction.
To my AMAZING Readers:
Each sweet word of encouragement meant more than you will ever believe.
I have found the ONE whom my Soul LOVES.
Song of Solomon 3:4
Monday, November 24, 2014
I drove for hours unwilling to face the ugly truth. As long as I was in the car, I didn’t have to utter the words that finalized it all, “I left him.” The tears poured, blurring my vision until I was unable to see.
Thursday, November 27, 2014
Between the fifth of Jack, the utter lack of sleep, and the swallow-me-whole depression, I had passed out and obviously been that way for three days. The only thing that brought me out of my most recent coma was the unrelenting ringing of the cell phone.
“What,” I slurred into the receiver.
“Wanted to see if you made it back home,” Neal Asher said.
“I’m here. All safe and sound,” I said, but it was beyond a lie. I wasn’t even aware if I was still breathing. My entire body had shut down. Without Dylan in my life, I was as good as dead.
“What’s wrong, son?”
My hand automatically went in the air. I started to make a fist but shook the stiffened hand instead.
What’s wrong? I sat here hurting like a motherfucker. The ass-whipping you ordered to happen is slowly getting sorer.
But the real pain came from where Dylan ripped out my heart and left a bleeding hole. “She left me.”
He didn’t speak for what seemed like minutes then he asked the most idiotic question of them all. “Do you love her?”
I didn’t answer him. He already knew the answer. I gave up so much just to be with her. I would have easily turned my back on my family. I still would because the worst pain I ever experienced was watching Dylan walk away.
“E,” Neal said, bringing my drunken mind back to the conversation at hand. “If you love her, fight for her. True love doesn’t happen every day.”
I loved her enough to let her go. She wanted a good-bye. I promised her I’d never let her hurt again. So, I’d give her the good-bye she needed. Even if it killed me.
Like hell, I will.
Tuesday, January 20, 2015
I didn’t expect to be able to hear everything yet still not be able to comprehend any of it. I guess that was what you got when your car collided with a half-ton pick-up truck going eighty miles an hour. All I could remember was the noise. There was so much noise. It pounded in my head until it drowned out the ache from my broken heart.
“Don’t go to sleep on me yet.”
My eyes fluttered open at the sound of a manly voice. Not the voice I wanted to hear. I wanted the ability to scream, but my thoughts were too locked up in my head to utter a sound. I whispered, “Ethan,” before my eyes focused and I realized where I was. My home away from home the last two months; the hospital’s physical therapy room.
“No, not Ethan, though as much as you ask for him, I’d say he was a lucky man.”
I twisted my neck.
Damn, it hurt.
My eyes fixed on Danny, the therapist who had spent every day, all day long the last two months working on getting me able to walk again. I smiled at the carefree way Danny smiled down at me. I was laying on the floor as he pushed my legs back against my chest. I grimaced in pain. My hip had been crushed, and every movement felt like a million little vice-grips tightening. I stroked my belly amazed that through all the trauma of the god-awful wreck, Baby E not only survived but even thrived.
“Two more, sweet pea, and then I’ll walk you back to the room,” Danny said as he pushed my kneecap into my left breast.
I tried to focus on his voice, but my mind drifted to the side of the road. I’d been fishing a napkin out of the glove box when I heard it. The squealing of tires. The honking of a horn. I heard it, but never saw it. The only memory my mind could hold on to was one particular face, a manly face that was shattered beyond belief. It was not the bruises on his all-too perfect face that captured my attention; it was the hopelessness. Was that man the Ethan I’d cried for? Why was he so sad? Was he the father of my baby? A man I couldn’t remember, but a name that gnawed at my heart.
“Dylan, are you remembering something?” Danny asked.
I shook my head. I didn’t want to talk. I wanted to crawl into bed and hold the only thing I was left with . . . the precious baby growing in my belly.
Saturday January 24, 2015
That day marked two months in Hell. Every text was left unanswered. Not even a small word for all the flowers I’d sent. My Dylan had fallen off the planet again. I’d driven by her small townhouse every day. Not once had I seen her car or even evidence that she lived there. I’d do anything for one more day with her. Just a day to try to get her to change her mind, to try to get her to love me just a little bit.
Monday, February 2, 2015
I felt hands on me startling me from a night of fitful sleep. I hated it. I wanted to be left alone. Maybe if I didn’t move, they would think I was still sleeping. If I were lucky, I’d close my eyes and never open them again. I rubbed my hand across my stomach and was hit with a sharp stab of guilt. My baby was what I was fighting for . . . that and the idea I could put a smile on the haunted man’s face.
“Happy birthday, dill pickles.” It was a woman’s voice I had grown accustomed to. I was sure her name was Sarah. She said she was my best friend and roommate, but I remembered no one before the wreck. Well, no one but the sad man. “I know you’re awake,” she whispered in my ear before shoving my shoulder.
I opened my eyes and let them settle on the three faces in the room. They came every day but wouldn’t tell me anything. Deacon, Sarah, and Allison. Three friendly faces, but something told me nothing would truly make me smile until I finally had Ethan in my room. Whatever he may look like?
Deacon tossed me a small white box with a big pink bow around it. “This came for you earlier.”
Sarah had said happy birthday. I stroked the bow. Was it my birthday? How old was I? I flipped over the card, hoping it would be a hint into my past.
Happy Birthday, my beautiful Privy,
I wish I could give you the world today.
But I can’t.
However, you will hold my heart in your hands forever.
The image of the mystery man making love to me flashed in my mind. He was crying. I sank down in the bed. The emotions of trying to weave together my forgotten past was like a roller coaster that had been turned up on high and small chunks of the tracks were missing. It was unpredictable, constantly moving from the highest highs to the lowest lows. The worst was when I didn’t know where the next curve was going to appear. That was one of those moments. But the truth knocked me over and kicked my ass. I’d left him. I was the one who had put the misery on his all-too perfect face. I felt I’d hit a loose spot on the ride and was falling into oblivion. That was my Ethan, but why was he crying? And why did I leave him? I tossed the pillow lying beside my arm. It was insane that the one person who was never present, and I could only remember in a cloud of a fog, had that much effect on me.
Sarah jerked the gift from my hands. “Why did you bring this to her?”
“It was hers. She needs to remember.” Deacon said and yanked the package from Sarah’s hands. She chucked the gift back to me. “Here, Dylan. I hope you remember.”
I hastily pulled the top from the box. Inside, I found a beautiful antique locket in the shape of a gift box. I opened the small clasp on the locket and discovered it held a solid gold heart. For the first time since the wreck, I clutched my stomach and cried. I had decided I’d dreamed up Ethan, but at that moment, I knew he was well and he was Baby E’s daddy. Sarah snatched the locket from my hands.
“See, that’s why you don’t remind her of that bastard. You heard all the craziness she mumbled the first few days after the wreck. He had her attacked.” Sarah stormed across the room and was in Deacon’s face.
“She needs her memory back, and I’m sure he’s the key to unlock it,” Deacon said and shoved Sarah back onto the small loveseat in the corner.
I couldn’t even scream for them to stop. Actually, I didn’t care what they were doing. My mind was hypnotized by the image of Ethan making love to me and crying. I gripped the shirt over my stomach. Was he crying from the ass whopping his face clearly shown he had recently took? Was he crying because of the baby? Sarah said he attacked me, but the look he was giving me was a look of love, not wrath.
“Stop it, both of you. All that matters is Dylan and the baby, and this is not helping either one of them,” Allison screamed and snatched the locket out of Sarah’s hand, bringing it back to me. She sat on the bed next to me. “Sweetie, whatever you’re remembering, embrace it. Sometimes you have to work through the pain to reveal the truth.”
She slid the necklace around my neck and fastened it. She was right; before I could move on, I needed to remember who Ethan was.
Monday, February 9, 2014
Each day dragged like nails against a chalkboard. There were a few uneven lurches where the second hand leaped forward,causing my reality to flash before my eyes. But the days never seemed to end
“Good morning, little momma. After our workout session today, you get to see the OB doctor and hear sweet baby E’s heartbeat,” Danny said and tickled my toes.
Danny was my favorite therapist. He liked me. He’d even brought me a small daisy the last few days to celebrate my twenty-first birthday week. He said he would have brought me my first legal beer, but the baby was not legal yet. He hardly got the statement out without laughing. Someone else used to laugh while telling a joke.
“Why do you call him or her baby E?” Danny asked.
I didn’t know for sure, but the only two names that appealed to me were Elizabeth and Ethan. So no matter what, my sweet little bundle would have an E name. I wondered if my mother was an Elizabeth. She hadn’t been to see me once, and when I asked, everyone suddenly got tight-lipped. Did I even have parents? I must have had them at one point . . . I was alive. But they were another missing piece in the puzzle of my life.
“The names I like are Elizabeth and Ethan.”
“There’s that name again. I really want to meet this Ethan.”
Danny was a great guy, but something told me no one would affect me the way the man behind the only face I could remember did. The man with a face too stunning to be that sad.