Chapter 1

Grace

"Come on, Pookie, it's not that big of a deal."

I pause in my wild flurry of packing and stare at Brad standing across the living room, blond hair flopping into his innocent gray eyes, as he offers me a sheepish little smile.

"I was only—"

"You went to see her again," I hiss, trying to hold my emotions in check, keenly aware of my four-year-old napping in the other room. "You went to see Maggie, after you promised—swore up and down

that it was over between you two."

He blinks. "How did you…"

"She contacted me." I turn back to where I'm tearing the couch apart looking for Lucas's favorite stuffed toy and do my utmost best to keep the tears at bay.

I can't believe what a stupid, stupid

woman I've been, believing that this man would stop cheating. He's always been a cheater. He'll always be a cheater.

For crying out loud, I was his sidepiece once! Four and a half years ago, I was the woman he left another for. Heartbroken because my ex-fiancé had knocked me up before breaking up with me to move to Thailand with his new girlfriend, I was an emotional wreck and couldn't see Brad for what he truly was. He'd just swooped in while I was pregnant and depressed, afraid that no man would ever want a forty-year-old single mom, and he'd seduced me with his stupid

storm gray eyes and his stupid sweet words and his stupid…stupidity!

He'd left Lacy to be with me, allegedly. Now, I'm not so sure there wasn't a period of time when he was messing around with the both of us before moving in with me. But my stupid pregnant ass was so desperate not to be alone, I hadn't noticed a thing.

"Pookie…"

"Don't call me that," I whisper-screech, and I grab a pillow and throw it at him. I watch just long enough to see it smack him right in the face, before turning back to my search for Mr. Rawrypants. Turns out the stuffed dinosaur was under the pillow I'd thrown, so I guess stupid Brad is at least good for something today.

"Babe, listen to me, please," he tries, as I grab the stuffed toy and turn to the man I'd once trusted. He stares at me imploringly, his expression open and earnest. "It isn't like that. You've got to believe me."

"All this time you've been out ‘looking for work', you've been at her place, haven't you?"

"It's not what you think!"

"Oh really," I snap, "then what is it?"

He immediately strides forward, reaching for my hands and holding them tightly in his, my son's dinosaur dangling precariously between our fingers. "Nothing happened," he murmurs. "I swear it."

I fight the urge to yank away from his touch, and flash him a sickly-sweet smile as I wait to hear what honeyed bullshit will sprout from his lips next.

"I know I've made mistakes in the past, big ones," he says, his voice trembling with suppressed emotion. "But I'm changing, I'm growing. For you, I'll do anything. I stopped seeing Maggie because you told me to, I did it for you! For us. For Lucas."

Oh my god, is he seriously trying to score bonus points for ‘not cheating' anymore when he was found out? He's not even bothering to come up with an excuse, he's just manipulating

me with emotions.

He'd been sleeping with Maggie

for nearly a year, and the only reason I hadn't thrown him out on his ass as soon as I'd found out, was because he convinced me that he wanted to change, that we should work things out because he was the only father Lucas had ever known. He swore on Lucas's life that he would never touch another woman again. And my stupid ass

believed him.

"Nothing happened between me and Maggie today, I promise," he continues quietly. "It's just you, Pookie. I'd never do that to you, you're my queen."

"Am I?" I ask sweetly, disentangling our fingers before swinging Mr. Rawrypants with all my might into his face . "Is she pregnant from immaculate conception, then, you asshole?" I thwack him again, and he flinches back, raising an arm to ward me off as I keep swinging the stuffed toy. "Is she bringing forth the next coming of Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior? Huh?"

"Ow!" He backs away, his whole face scrunching guiltily. "You know about that?"

"She wasn't pregnant when you ‘broke things off' with her all those months ago!"

"It's… It's not my kid."

"Oh my god, you—" I cut myself off before I can start on a rage-filled tirade, and straighten my spine. "I'm leaving, Brad. This is it for us. I've had enough."

And I turn and head back to our room to finish packing my bags.

"No, pumpkin, wait! What about the apartment?"

I hear him follow me as I shove Mr. Rawrypants into Lucas's otherwise packed bag and start throwing clothes into my own. "You can stay here, you freeloader," I snort. "There's one month left on the lease and I've already paid rent."

"But… But what about next month?"

"Figure it out yourself!" I slam the lid of my suitcase shut and start rooting around the room for my laptop. "Go away. I don't want to see your face anymore."

But like some sort of lost puppy, he shadows me step by step.

"Snuggle-pot, please, let's just talk about this."

"I'm done talking, Brad!" I stop and turn angrily to face him, and he rears back a step. "All you do is talk and lie and schmooze your way into whatever reality suits you in the moment, and I'm sick of it."

"Just give me a chance, Gracie-bear. Please…"

"I've given you so many chances," I snap, and for some reason, this is the point where my throat tightens, and tears begin to burn the back of my eyes. "I wanted to believe in you. I tried. I forgave you for cheating on me. I agreed to give us another chance after I found out about Maggie, paid for your therapy sessions so you could grow and become a better man. I cook for you, clean, organize your whole life. I work and pay the bills, I do everything, Brad. I've tried so, so hard."

"I mean… you don't do everything," he mutters. "I look after Lucas."

With a burst of anger, I turn and grab the nearest object on the dresser beside me—lucky for him, it's only a tissue box—and hurl it straight at his stupid face .

"Barely!" I shout, and now I'm reaching for more things to throw as he ducks and backs away. "You sometimes

play with Lucas to avoid chores, when you're not hunched away playing Call of Duty !" My fingers curl around a picture frame, and I throw that, too. "What about your duty to get a job and pull your weight around here? Jerk!"

When my hand lands on my phone, I pause just short of throwing it at him, realizing in the nick of time what I'm holding. Instead, I take the opportunity to dial my sister.

"Pookie, please, let's be rational about this."

"Hello- ooh

my god, what are you throwing ?" Ella answers the video call, her blue eyes widening almost comically as she sees me grab a lamp and lob it across the screen towards Brad.

"I'm coming to Whispering Pines!" I yell, probably looking wild as I feel my messy bun almost completely come loose, golden-brown strands falling into my eyes as I reach behind me for more projectiles.

"Pookie, pumpkin, sweet-corn…you're overreacting—"

Portable speakers sail across the room next, and he ducks into our walk-in closet, using the door as a shield.

"I just need a week or two," I tell Ella, breathing heavily and eyeing the closet, ready with a vase in hand for Brad to peak out from behind his cover. Call of Duty your way out of this, you jerk. "I'll be out of your hair as soon as I can find a new place."

"No, Gracie," Ella says seriously, a knowing look in her eyes when I finally glance down at where I hold her in my palm. Without asking for any details, since we share everything and she probably realizes exactly what's going on right now, she continues. "You and Lucas stay as long as you need. The werewolf family who were interested in renting my old townhouse has pulled out, so it's free. I'll take it off the market now, okay? I'm here for you."

My shoulders sag, and the fight leaves me in one long exhale. "Okay, baby," I whisper, "thank you."

"Come as soon as you can, alright? I'm heading there now to get it ready for you."

With a nod I hang up, suddenly feeling like I'll burst into tears if I say a single word more.

I can't believe my life has come to this. Can't believe I let myself be so stupid, let Brad take advantage of me for so many years, all for the sake of his ‘love' for me. But what kind of love was it? A love for having an easy life with no responsibilities? A love for being able to sleep with as many women as he wants, while his girlfriend runs herself to the ground supporting him and her son, too worn-out to catch on sooner? Yeah, I'm sure he loves that, alright.

He used to be so good. He supported me through the toughest moment of my life, when I was pregnant and abandoned, and I'd really thought he'd cared back then. But as soon as he had me hooked, all his efforts just… poof. Vanished. And I was left shouldering everything.

Carefully putting down the vase, I take a deep breath. It doesn't matter anymore. It's done. Brad isn't that man any longer, and he never will be again. I need to pick up the pieces and move on with my life.

I turn with the intent to finish packing, and then I'll wake Lucas and we'll head out for the long road-trip to Idaho and start Attempt Number Two of rebuilding my life after being let down by yet another man.

"Pookie? Have you finished being hysterical? Let's talk—"

"No more talking!" I shout, as I spin and grab at the vase again to hurl, watching in satisfaction as Brad ducks behind the closet door once more with an unmasculine squeak to avoid it.

On second thoughts, I think I'll break a few more objects first. Then I'll move on with my life.