Page 6 of Country Vows | AllFreeNovel

My heart twinges while I refuse to look at the bottom drawer of my desk.

Maybe the alcohol wasn’t a good idea.

Suddenly, the productive drive in me dwindles into nothing. I slam my laptop shut and exit my office. My drink gets tossed down the drain before I drag my feet up the staircase.

Another reason I hate this house is the number of temptations to go skipping down memory lane.

Exhibit number one: the main bedroom.

Left untouched for an entire year.

I rarely come in here, and as I step through the doorway, I remember why.

Like most of the house, the crisp white paint and dark mahogany furniture aren’t to my taste. I prefer accent walls and patterned wallpaper to blend classical and traditional designs.

The only hint of character is the large canvas portrait hanging above the dresser.

They look happy. More than happy. There’s hope and excitement in their faces as the couple look at each other with unfiltered love.

I spin away from their lovestruck gazes and sniff. The air is musty, curtains drawn, but if I open a window, the sheets that I never got around to changing might lose the peppermint and bergamot scent he left behind.

One year since he last lay in them. How many more until they lose all memory that he was ever here?

I’m no closer to knowing what I’m supposed to do than I was when he left. The girls gave up asking questions, but eventually, their curiosity will get the better of them. Why wouldn’t it? Their best friend acts like her estranged husband’s face isn’t slapped on every billboard and his songs aren’t played on every radio station. Avoiding Tate is an impossible task, and pretending our separation isn’t burning a hole in the back of my mind is even harder.

During a moment of weakness a few weeks ago, I googled his name. Pictures from his tour showed him smiling and laughing. He was enjoying our time apart while the silence and lonely nights slowly killed me.

Tate Brooks has owned my heart since I was sixteen years old. As the days tick by with no word from him, I fear the time for it to break is fast approaching.

But that’s what I asked for—space and time apart.

Time to wrap my head around the new life he thrust us into without discussing it with me.

One minute, we were on the path we’d always talked about, then suddenly, we steered off course and crash-landed in a ditch.

I should be thankful he’s doing as I requested. But I hate myself for it. Almost as much as I hate myself for having the divorce papers drawn up not long after he left. I can’t stand to look at them, keeping them locked away.

A failure. Exactly like my mother predicted.