The Note

By Teresa Mummert

NEW YORK TIMES & USA TODAY BESTSELLING NOVEL!

 

Jenn's life is nothing as she had imagined it would be. She is twenty-something with a failing career and her love life has officially ended with an ultimate act of betrayal.

 

She is ready to throw away her dreams when a chance run-in with a soldier, dealing with his own misfortunes, alters her course and changes her perspective on life.

 

*Previously published under the title Suicide Note.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Teresa Mummert
• Release date: Mar 11, 2013
• ISBN: 9781490474908

Teresa Mummert

TERESA MUMMERT is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author. Her work includes word-of-mouth bestselling, White Trash Trilogy, which landed her a three-book publishing deal with Simon & Schuster. She is also the author of the wildly popular Honor Series which chronicles the taboo romance between a student and her college professor. To date, she's written over twenty-five novels and plans for many more releases in the future.

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TITLE

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author/publisher.

Copyright © 2013 Teresa Mummert

All rights reserved.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENT-NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

CHAPTER FORTY

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

CHAPTER FIFTY

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

CHAPTER SIXTY

CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE

CHAPTER SEVENTY

CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE

CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO

CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE

CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX

CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER SEVENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER SEVENTY-NINE

CHAPTER EIGHTY

CHAPTER EIGHTY-ONE

CHAPTER EIGHTY-TWO

CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE

CHAPTER ONE

Jenn Reynolds – Maine, March 12, 2010, Friday

I typed on my computer, tucked away in my cubical, invisible to the world around me. People stopped in periodically asking for favors, never once asking how I was or if I had plans for my birthday next week. If they had, I would have lied and told them I had a party out of town. In reality, I planned on spending the evening on the kissing bridge, finally finishing the last few chapters of the novel that had replaced any semblance of a social life. I lived vicariously through those characters. It was safer than opening up to real people who inevitably would hurt me or let me down. Where I went from there was still up in the air.

I planned on marrying on that bridge, overlooking the beautiful blue sparkling water below. Those plans began to take on life when I became engaged just three months ago. I spent two years of my life with Thomas. He woke me every morning with a kiss when I first moved in with him and even brought me breakfast in bed on occasion. As time went on, those kisses were replaced with an apology for whatever he may have said or done the night before while under the influence of his favorite whiskey after a late business meeting. Eventually, he stopped coming home.

I knew the stress of his job weighed heavily on him, and I tried my best to ignore the warning signs that everything was falling apart around us. That was until I found a pair of lace panties shoved under the pillow of our bed, and I realized it was impossible to keep a relationship afloat when one of you was hell-bent on destroying it. I smiled sadly to myself as the overwhelming feeling of betrayal swept through my body. Holding my breath, I slowly began to count down from twenty as I released the air that filled my lungs.

Instead of planning my wedding, I watched as my older sister, Gail, planned her dream wedding. I wrapped my long brown hair into a bun and slipped my pencil through it to hold it in place before I clicked print. I hurried toward the printer on the other side of the office, hoping to complete my work so I wouldn’t be stuck in the office until after the sun set.

Whoa, Jenn. Slow down there. Howard gave me a toothy grin before sipping his mug of coffee. His light brown hair, in desperate need of a trimming, was slicked back in a greasy mass. His eyes danced over my chest, causing me to cross my arms over my breasts. The way he looked at me made me feel sleazy and cheap, no matter how many articles of clothing I had on.

I have work to do. I shuffled nervously from foot to foot, glancing over Howard’s shoulder to the copy machine.

Of course you do. Speaking of which, I need the Douglas report by Tuesday. I know that’s not much time but—

I held up my hand, stopping him from finishing his sentence. I didn’t argue about having to work through the weekend. It was a sad fact that I never had anything going on in my private life. I welcomed the distraction.

Oh, no, I whispered in a panic as Jake Philips, the office manager, grabbed a stack of papers from the printer. I shoved by Howard and made my way to the machine. It sat empty.

Just get it to me sometime Tuesday, Howard called after me, raising his mug as he spoke before taking a sip and glancing around the office. His eyes fell on the new intern that started last week, and he grinned as he made his way to her desk.

Damn. Rubbing my hands over my face, I searched out Jake, who was reclining comfortably in his office chair behind his oversized mahogany desk. His dark, short hair brushed across the top of his forehead as he flipped through the stack of papers in his hand, his expression unchanging. I let my eyes linger on him for a moment. I never understood why he was so mean to me. He constantly barked orders and barely glanced in my direction while doing so. Over the last week, it had only gotten worse, and I wondered how much more unkindness I could take from him before I finally snapped and quit my job. My goal was to be a partner in their advertising firm, but that dream seemed to slip further away with each passing dirty look from Jake or unsolicited come-on by Howard.

Maybe it didn’t print, I thought, as I made my way back to my desk.

I pulled out the Douglas file as my fingers shook. My blue eyes danced over the typed print as I struggled to focus on what I was reading. I glanced back at Jake, who was busy filing papers, completely oblivious to the inner turmoil I was experiencing in my small, claustrophobic cubical. Feeling another panic attack begin deep in the pit of my stomach, I concentrated on the task at hand, hoping to keep it at bay.

As I began typing, visions of my sister’s upcoming wedding on the bridge flooded my thoughts. I wondered if my family would make a fuss about me not showing. They most likely wouldn’t even notice that the maid of honor did not arrive. It didn’t matter. I wouldn’t be there. I had to stand up for myself, even if no one else would.

Jenn, pop this in a mailbox when you go for your lunch. Jake held out an envelope addressed to APO.

Yes, sir. Taking the envelope from his hands, I slipped it inside my blazer pocket. I typed a few more lines before pushing my chair back from my desk and made my way quickly to the elevator, hoping to avoid Howard.

Jenn, Jake called after me, causing me to freeze in my tracks as I rubbed my clammy palms on my skirt. Nonfat milk!

I nodded my head but didn’t respond as I quickly slipped inside the elevator.

That suits you, Gretchen whispered form my left.

I’m sorry?

Your dress, dear. The yellow makes your blue eyes glow. Very pretty. Gretchen smiled, the lines of her face crinkling as she brushed back her silver curls from her face.

Thank you. It was on sale. I ran my hands over my A-line dress. It was a far cry from my normal attire of jeans and a T-shirt, but I needed to look professional at work if I ever wanted to move up in my career.

Gretchen nodded as the doors opened on the ground floor, and I hurried out to make my way down the street to the local coffee shop. I wrapped my arms around my waist to counter the chilly breeze, silently cursing myself for not grabbing the blazer that hung on the back of my chair.

CHAPTER TWO

SSgt. Shane Tudor – Kuwait, March 5, 2010, Friday

How can you sleep? Pvt. Ryan Owens kicked the side of the worn-out mattress that I slept on, my arm thrown over my face.

Kick me again, and I’ll make you count, pretty boy. I moved my arm and grinned at Owens before placing it back over my face to block the light from incoming helicopters. Owens ran his hands over his dusty blond hair as he laughed.

You’re gonna pull rank, man? That’s not cool, Tudor. Owens plopped down on the edge of the dilapidated mattress and removed his boot blousers that kept his pants from hanging over his boots.

Get off my bed, O. Months of deployment, coupled with my home life falling apart, had left me bitter and mad at the entire world. War had been a distraction, but now I was being thrown back into the real world.

I can’t wait to get home, man. Beth is practically throwing a parade in my honor. Owens slipped off one of his boots with a groan.

Good for you. Get off my bed.

Ryan ran his hands over his face, coating them in the fine sand that clung to everything in this place.

Once she sees you, she’s gonna change her mind. Ryan tossed his boots into the corner and grinned in a way we rarely did around this place.

Narrowing my dull blue eyes in warning, I pushed myself up into a sitting position. I ran my hand over my freshly clipped, dark brown hair and hung my head, stretching the achy muscles in my neck.

Chelsea made her choice, I replied angrily as I stood up and pushed open the flap of the tent.

He’s a dentist. What the hell would she want with a dentist? Ryan slipped off his other sock and replaced it with a freshly laundered one, sliding his foot back inside his boot.

Dentists don’t deploy, I groaned as I gripped the metal framing of the tent over my head and stretched my back.

She’s a whore, man.

I glared back at Ryan, who held his hands up, knowing he went too far.

All I’m saying is make your leave count. Two weeks of as much local ass you can get your hands on. You won’t even remember her name by the time you touch sand again. Shit, maybe you will come back and be just a little nicer than the enemy. That would be a nice change. Ryan patted me on the back as he slid past me and out into the hot, dry air.

Instead of coming home to smiles and cheers, I will step off the plane to pity and sad eyes, if anyone was there to greet me at all. I was supposed to be getting married on leave at the church just off post where Chelsea and I met. Instead, I sat lonely and worried in a desert in Iraq while some other man comforted my fiancé. She ran off and married him in the very church that we had picked out for our nuptials just seven weeks ago. I had no desire to leave my men behind while I worried about what kind of danger they were in to go home to the turmoil that waited for me there. I’d given up hope and to be honest, never really thought I would make it back.

Flight coming in three hours. I was assured our guys would be on this one. Rodgers called out of the sound of the helicopter engines.

We’ll see. Our flight had already been kicked back three times. Not that I was complaining. It was nice to be able to sleep for a few days without the sounds of mortars in the background.

I walked back inside the tent and flopped down on the thin mattress, letting my boots hang over the edge. I had just enough time to catch some sleep before making the grueling flights home. I closed my eyes and instantly became assaulted with flashbacks from only weeks prior.

***

January 15, 2010, Friday – Baghdad, Iraq

Get him off the pool table, man! Owens was panicked, pulling off his soft cap and wiping the mixture of sand and sweat from his brow

Where the fuck do you want us to put him? I had never seen so much blood up close. I had seen the remnants of human bodies after a suicide bomber but never had I watched someone’s life literally drain out of them. The green felt was overcome by the thick, sticky blood and my memories flashed to Christmas last year when I was with Chelsea, asking her to marry me.

Get out of the way! Chancler, the medic, yelled, wiping the sweat from his face as he pushed through the group of soldiers that had gathered around the table. Don’t move your hands, Tudor.

It’s still coming out, man. I can’t squeeze his leg any tighter.

The Iraqi Army soldier lay peacefully on the table surrounded by pool balls. He’s too quiet! I tried desperately to keep my voice level for the benefit of the soldiers around me while this man’s life literally slipped through my hands. His body went slack. Chancler rubbed over his stubbled jaw with bloody fingers and hung his head.

He’s done. The shrapnel severed his femoral artery. He didn’t have a chance.

I kept my fingers over the oozing wound as I glanced around the room at all the young, weathered men who stared back at me. I had no words, no idea what to say to make the situation any different from what it was. This was our reality. At any given moment, everything could be taken from us.

Come on, man. Owens pulled on my shoulders, and I stumbled, not wanting to release my grip on the leg. Let’s hit that new shower trailer before lunch.

I looked down at my hands as crimson liquid dripped from the tips of my fingers, landing on my camel-colored boots that already had a fresh dusting of sand as fine as baby powder clinging to them.

I’m gonna need new boots. I could feel the shock taking over me as all rational thought escaped me.

Owens patted me on the back as he pulled me out of the block building and into the blinding sun of Baghdad.

We’ll call your girl after you get cleaned up. She can order some and have them shipped to you.

***

I startled awake and glanced down at my feet that still hung over the edge of the bed. The tips stained black from that life-changing day seven weeks prior. Not only had I witnessed my first up-close-and-personal death that I still blame myself for, but that was the day I discovered Chelsea was no longer waiting for me at home. In fact, she hadn’t been waiting for some time.

***

Can you hear me? I plugged my other ear with my finger as I yelled into the receiver.

I hear you! Chelsea whispered back.

Were you sleeping?

Chelsea rubbed her face and glanced past the man lying next to her to her alarm clock. It read 1:00 a.m.

No, she sighed as she carefully peeled back the comforter and slipped out of the bed. She ran her fingers through her tangled, blonde mane as she traipsed into the kitchen and turned on the light over the sink.

I can tell when you lying.

Chelsea smiled weakly as she grabbed a glass from the cabinet and turned on the water, waiting for it to get cold.

How’s your sister? I leaned my forehead against the plywood wall.

The doctors are optimistic. Everything all right? she asked as she filled her glass and took a long gulp, suddenly parched.

Just a long day. We patrolled for a few hours. You wouldn’t believe the heat. I lied. I wanted to talk about anything but the incident with the Iraqi soldier. I needed to be reminded of what I was fighting for.

Shane, it’s late, she sighed as she set her glass down on the counter.

I know. I needed to hear your voice. My eyes closed, picturing her smile.

What are you doing up? a man’s voice called in the background.

Who was that, Chels? My eyes shot open. Every worry I had from the day suddenly seemed minuscule to what was going through my mind now.

We need to talk, Shane.

Don’t fucking do this to me. Not today.

I sent you a letter.

I didn’t get your damn letter. I squeezed my eyes shut, begging the tears to stay at bay while I was around other soldiers.

This is just too hard, Shane. I can’t take the worrying.

You? You can’t take the worry? I wake up every morning, not knowing if I’ll be alive by bedtime.

Don’t do that. That’s not fair.

Fair? I laughed and slammed the phone down on its base.

***

I grabbed my rucksack and slid it over my shoulder and picked up my duffle bag. Sleep was overrated. I made my way to the defac in hopes of getting a quick bite before we needed to make our way to the plane.

Hey! I got you a tuna. At least I think its tuna. Owens slid over on his seat, making room for me.

Doesn’t matter at this point, I groaned, as I dropped my bag and adjusted the weapon that was slung across my chest.

I hear ya. I hope my girl can cook. Owens took a big bite of his sandwich and food oozed out of the corners of his mouth. The soldier across the table glared at him.

I shook my head. I knew Owens would come back from leave brokenhearted when his pen pal turned out to be a man or married.

"What, fobbit? Not used to seeing a real-life soldier? You want an autograph from a real American hero?" Owens joked as he wiped the food from his mouth.

You can write it right here. The soldier grabbed his crotch as his buddies laughed.

I guess he only wants my initials, Owens replied, looking at me. I just hung my head and laughed.

King of battle my ass, the man replied with a sneer as he got up from the table, his two friends flanking him followed suit.

I think you hurt their feelings. I shoved the last bit of my food into my mouth. You know we are all on the same side.

Screw him. Let’s go enjoy our R and R.

We stood and grabbed our bags before catching a ride to the airstrip on the other side of the base.

I almost forgot. I grabbed our mail. Owens held out several envelopes for me. I took a deep breath before grabbing the letters from his hand and slipping them into my pocket.

Thanks.

CHAPTER THREE

Jenn – February 3, 2010, Saturday Morning

I slid a bagel into the toaster as my eyes glazed over reading my report for work. We needed to make it look like the company was pulling in more money from their ads than it was losing, but the numbers didn’t lie. That was the reason I loved math. It was the only pure form of honesty left in this world.

My food popped up, and I held the papers as I made my way to the fridge to grab the cream cheese, tossing it on the counter. My phone rang, and I answered it, cradling it between my shoulder and ear as I attempted to spread cream cheese on my bagel.

You are impossible to get ahold of!

"It’s too early for you