The Long Road Home

By Lauren Hammond

Author's Note - I wanted to do something nice for all the wonderful, loyal and supportive fans of mine who have been patiently waiting for my books. You have no idea how much I appreciate your devotion. Thanks so much. Sincerely, from the bottom of my heart ~Lauren Hammond~

*Inspired by true events*

There are a lot of things a person can discover about themselves on the open road.
They can discover that...
You can forget your past.
Find happiness and peace.
Maybe even a little love along the way.

I’ve got a ten hour drive ahead of me.
I’ve got a lot on my mind to keep me occupied.
I’ve got a full tank of gas.
A caramel macchiato from Starbucks.
A bottle of water for later.
Some snacks.
An iPod full of sweet tunes. A few twisted thoughts. Not to mention a broken heart. All of which will accompany me while I drive.
All of which will accompany me while I travel on the long road home.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lauren Hammond
• Release date: Jul 22, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301778614

Lauren Hammond

S.B. Addison Books is a small traditional publisher with an independent edge. Our main focus is quality not quantity. We love books and we love the people who read them.

Book preview

The Long Road Home

Lauren Hammond

The Long Road Home

© Lauren Hammond 2013

Smashwords Edition

This novelette is a work of fiction, but loosely based on true events experienced by the author. Portions are fictitious and are not to be misconstrued as real. Any coincidences pertaining to a real person alive or deceased are derived from the imagination of the author and are not thought of as real.

Chapter One

January 2013

Most of the time, I think the business trips I have to take for work are short-lived.

Most of the time, I wish I could just stop…

For a minute.

Or two.

Take a look around.

Really see all the sights and learn to appreciate what the different states I visit have to offer.

I work for a small publishing company, running their publicity department and love the fact that I get to travel because of it. Book conventions excite me and that may be because I am a book nerd at heart.

The city of Boston, state of Massachusetts.

A place where they say car minus the ‘r’, not to mention a place where they hosted a tea party that went down in history.

A depressing sigh escapes my lips as I pull out of the Starbucks drive-thru with my venti caramel macchiato nestled safely in my center consul. Not just because I’m leaving Boston without a chance to really experience the city in all of its glory, but because I see a couple in the window of the coffee shop. A man with thick, spiked mahogany hair and a woman, with shiny red ringlets falling into her pale face.

She laughs.

He laughs.

She bites her lower lip in a bashful manner.

He reaches over and tucks a shiny red curl behind her ear.

They’re clearly head over heels for one another.

For a second I can feel my face pulling and I almost smile then the smile slips from my lips. Witnessing this tender display of affection almost breaks me. The couple, they look so happy. So in love. It reminds me of a time in my life where I felt the same way.

It reminds me of a time in my life where I thought I’d always feel the same way.

Pain.

A deep, stabbing, searing pain punctures my heart and I mentally curse for putting myself through this cinematic torture. It’s at that moment that I fall apart.

My face is a red hot poker removed from the hearth of a fireplace.

Tears rain down my cheeks to put out the blaze.

Sobs leave my throat so hard and so close together that I can barely breathe.

All because a man once took things from me.

My heart.

My soul.

My ability to distinguish what is normal in a relationship and what is just plain messed up.

Yes, some of the blame of why the relationship fell apart is on me, but it is not all my fault.

Yes, I did things.

Said things.

Even acted out when I shouldn’t have. But what he did was worse.

Much, much worse.

Somehow, with twisted vicious words and careless thoughtless actions he managed to break me in half.

Split me wide open, an open throbbing bleeding