Table Of ContentAnother Shot At Love
COPYRIGHT © 2013 by Niecey Roy
17+ adult content and language
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any
manner whatsoever without written permission of the author, except in the case
of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by Once Upon A Covers
Kindle Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be
re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with
another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re
reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use
only, then please return to amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you
for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the
product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance
to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is
entirely coincidental. The publisher/editor does not have any control over and
does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their
content.
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any
other means without the permission of the author is illegal and is punishable by
law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate
in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the
author’s rights is appreciated.
River Mist Media, 2013
ISBN-10: 0615908098
ISBN-13: 9780615908090
Published in the United States of America
DEDICATION
For my sisters, with love…
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
My thanks to:
Donna Sturgeon and Casse Narome
for being great sounding boards, for keeping me on track, for always laughing
with me when the writing gets tough, and for never being afraid to tell me what’s
not working. Thank you both for being great friends and amazing critique
partners.
My editor
for helping me turn this book into something amazing.
My beta readers
for all of your thoughts. You are invaluable. Your enthusiasm keeps me writing.
Prologue
I heaved the last load of clothing out of the second story apartment window
and watched it land on the soft, brilliant white snow below. A pair of boxer
briefs and a white sock snagged on the barren branches of the Knockout rose
bushes hugging the side of the beige building, and I smiled in grim satisfaction
before yanking the window shut on a gust of wind. Winter was relentless,
dropping snow almost every day since Christmas. I shivered as I made my way
to the bedroom door.
There hadn’t been much of Brent’s stuff left to throw out—a sweater I used
to wear around the apartment, a couple law review journals tucked under my art
magazines, two suits layered between a winter jacket and a gown I’d worn to a
charity event hosted by his parents.
Little things to remind me how big a role he’d played in my life up until a
week ago, New Year’s Eve. A night I’d likely not forget.
At the door, I turned and glanced around the now-bare room. There were
still indentations in the carpet from where the heavy furniture had been.
Everything I owned was downstairs in the U-Haul parked at the curb, all except
a few boxes I had dropped off at my parents’ house a few nights ago. My little
yellow VW was already parked in their driveway, probably snowed in. I planned
to stay with them in my old bedroom until I figured things out.
This was the final load I had to move, and then it was all over.
There weren’t any tears. I’d been running on adrenaline the last few days.
Weird how I was mostly numb, considering my two-year relationship with Brent
had taken a nose dive and shattered into a million tiny pieces of disillusion.
I still grimaced at the memory of catching Brent locked in a porno-worthy
position with his fake-breasted ex-girlfriend on the sheets I’d gotten us for
Christmas. At least he’d had a good excuse for not showing up to the New
Year’s Eve party. I’d waited for him all night, and when the clock struck
midnight and my boyfriend wasn’t there to kiss me, I’d gone looking for him.
The sight that met me at the apartment had left me speechless. Probably,
my eyes would never recover. It was like being in one of those nightmares where
running was the best thing to do—the safe thing to do—but you couldn’t move,
couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything except watch your life be slashed apart.
When I had finally moved, Brent had chased me through the apartment, buck-
naked. By the time I made it outside in the pitch black, the snow swirling around
my shell shocked body, sound had finally come back to me and I’d heard him
calling down to me from the window of our apartment.
I closed the bedroom door and made my way down the hallway to the
kitchen. Everything was different now. It felt as if someone were slowly
removing excess skin with a dull blade.
I couldn’t bear to stay another day. Living in this downtown apartment—
one I couldn’t afford on my own—was part of a plan I had made with Brent, the
two of us together. It was near his family’s law firm and only blocks away from
the art gallery I worked in. It had been perfect for us. Together, we’d had lots of
great plans: get married, buy a house, and I’d have babies for the rest of my
reproduction life.
Everything had seemed perfect, and wadded up into a wrinkled ball of
resentment somewhere near the back of the U-Haul was a pretty white gown to
remind me just how naïve I’d been. What kind of idiot bought a dress before the
actual proposal, anyway? Stupid, stupid, stupid.
I wished moving out would be the very end of us, the final cut to sever all
ties. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be, not when my twin, Lexie, dated Brent’s best
friend. He’d be everywhere all the time, probably with Stripper Barbie on his
arm. I’d have to stay clear of our old hangouts, stick to the opposite side of town.
Just to be safe. I hadn’t ever liked Brent’s ex-girlfriend. If I had to see them
together, I’d get flashes of their Kama Sutra pose and I’d vomit.
I’d even changed my number. He’d been leaving me endless voicemails,
begging to explain himself. I was tired of ignoring him. Exhausted.
Why he thought I’d ever want to hear from him at all made no sense. He’d
moved in with Stripper Barbie to the Barbie Mansion, where I imagined them
playing house, eating chocolate-dipped strawberries, and ordering around the
maid. Seemed to me he had nothing to explain and no reason to.
After penning a quick note to the landlord, I locked up the apartment and
took the steps down to the entryway. The overcast sky matched my mood. I was
ready for spring, for color and light—a new beginning.
After adjusting the crocheted burgundy scarf around my neck, I hurried
through the door and squinted into the wind as my boots crunched over the
snowy sidewalk. The truck was parked illegally at the curb in front of a fire
hydrant.
There wasn’t a ticket under the windshield wiper, so that was good. I
jumped inside and turned the key in the ignition. While I waited for the heater to
warm up, I gazed out the window. One of Brent’s ties dangled from the rose
bushes, just a few barren branches away from a pair of navy blue boxer briefs.
The worn and fuzzy sweater I’d loved had a white cross trainer sneaker on it. I
didn’t see the other sneaker, but it could have been behind the leather duffel bag
lying on its side. It looked like a tornado had hit in the middle of a blizzard.
If my weasel ex had any idea his belongings were strewn all over the lawn
getting snowed on, he’d be in his Porsche, headed in my direction. I’d
conveniently left that little nugget out in the text I’d sent him, telling him he
needed to pick up the rest of his things.
Maybe a homeless guy would come along and get to the tailored suit jacket
first. I could only hope. Brent was too vain about his appearance anyway; he
didn’t need another expensive suit he’d purchased to flatter his blue eyes. The
guy could afford a hundred more just like it.
I buckled up and put my cell phone earpiece on. While I waited for my
older sister, Catherine, to answer, I put the vehicle into gear and pulled out
cautiously into the street.
“Hey, Gennie.” The concern in Catherine’s voice sounded through my cell
phone loud and clear. “Are you on your way to Mom and Dad’s?”
“Just got in the car. I’ll be there in twenty minutes, thirty at most if there’s
traffic.”
“Oh good, you’ll be here in time for supper. Mom’s making tater tot
casserole.”
Comfort food. Of course. My family was the rock I needed right now.
“Great, sounds good,” I said, though I wasn’t hungry. My appetite had been
just as void as the rest of me. I glanced into the rearview mirror at the distance
widening between me and the apartment building.
“Lexie’s here. She made up your old bed.” There was a pause before she
asked, “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m great,” I said, channeling my inner optimism, which been on
vacation the last couple of days. But I was okay, really. Not a tear. That was
good.
“Just be careful. We’re supposed to get sleeting rain here soon. Hopefully
you make it home before then.”
“I’ll be fine. I’m just across town, remember,” I assured my worry-wart
sister. Catherine had inherited the trait from our Mom. “I’ll see you soon. Love
you, Cat.”
I had mixed feelings about moving back home. After graduating high
school I’d had so many plans for my future, and all of them had involved a
career in art on the East Coast. I’d been so excited to find myself out in the big
old world. Instead, I had met a man, fallen in love, and stuck around Nebraska.
Then he’d cheated on me.
