His Best Friend's Wife by Ann Omasta

Author:Ann Omasta [Omasta, Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-10-16T05:00:00+00:00

11

The tiny apartment attached to Jamie's small house was perfect. From the moment I walked in, I felt at home. There wasn't much to it, but it was functional and the front window had a sliver of an ocean view if I leaned just right to peer past the monstrous, faded clapboard oceanfront houses.

I had always felt somehow drawn to the ocean, but I had never imagined how soothing it would be to live so near it. Having spent most of my days in the middle of the country, the beach had always been a vacation destination––not one that I could simply walk across the street to enjoy.

Exploring the shoreline quickly became my favorite pastime. It sounded like a cheesy come-on line for a dating website profile, but I truly enjoyed long, quiet walks along the beach. I got up early each day to walk before work, I spent my breaks walking, and I generally went for another walk at night.

I loved watching how the beach changed. In the matter of a few hours, the entire shoreline could shift. The fresh air wafting in from the water felt cleansing, and the sound of the ocean and its birds were strangely addictive.

Jamie had hinted a few times that she would be thrilled to join me on one of my many walks, but I tried to keep my distance from her. I didn't want to hurt her, and my heart was too damaged to even attempt to move on.

As much as I was enjoying my solitude, the nights were still long and filled with thoughts of Cassie. I had been fairly successful at keeping busy enough to keep her out of my head during the day, but she refused to leave me alone at night.

I tried to keep my memories of my perfect night with her at bay. At work, my hands manned the grill, which required enough focus to keep my mind occupied. On my walks, I could refocus my attention on my pristine surroundings. But at night, I was defenseless. I dreamt of her often––flailing about the bed, caught in the suspended state between waking and sleeping.

The dreams of her in my arms felt so real, it was hard to distinguish between what was memory and what was merely a dream of her. It all felt like a dream until I remembered the nightmare of finding out we had been pawns in Dirk's sick game. How could he have done that to us? Why had Cassie allowed him to manipulate her that way?

I felt physically ill every time I thought about it. My stupid heart wouldn't allow my brain to forget about Cassie, no matter how hard I tried. It was tempting to turn on my cell phone to see what messages the two of them had left me. The fear that they might convince me to forgive them kept me from turning it on. The even greater fear that they hadn't bothered to reach out to me at all

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