This Time

By A.J. Warner

Alison Scott never believed in such things as destiny or fate, but she did think that everything happened for a reason. So, when her life and marriage crumble before her eyes, she picks herself up out of the rubble and forges a new way. 

Ethan Glenn worked hard to build his life, never taking time to really live. When Alison crosses his path again, sparks soar, sexual fantasies collide with reality, and Ethan wants more. He wants to be her everything. 

Brought together by the destruction of their pasts, their hunger for each other could be the very thing that destroys them.

What happens when distance and circumstance threaten to stand in the way of this love? How do they cope when all that they want is everything time won’t let them have?

• Language: English
• Publisher: A.J. Warner
• Release date: Feb 4, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386123231

Book preview

Fifteen years of marriage and two children later, my life was shattered, dreams crushed and I’d developed a prideful ego. By prideful ego, I meant I wouldn’t ask anyone for help. I didn’t need help. I was strong and independent; I had this. But I didn’t. My self-esteem was next to non-existent.  I lost my sense of self. I quickly learned to suppress my emotions and mastered the skill of showing little to none at all. We never saw things for what they were as they were happening. Most of the time we saw what we wanted to or how we wished they could be.  If you said it, lived it and believed it long enough, the lies became the truth.

Often, I’d find myself questioning my own worth or my ability to be a good mother and wife. Why wasn’t I good enough? What could I have done differently? Was this my fault? If I could just keep my husband, Tyler, happy, then everything else would fall into place. With the first push, I should have seen where things were headed.  But all I saw was someone who accidentally bumped into me and apologized for it. Tyler loved me, and in my mind he wouldn’t intentionally hurt me. Then there was the first slap. Completely taken aback, frightened and blinded by love, I should have known that the push wasn’t an accident. All I saw was a knee jerk reaction to my smart mouth. If I had only sat quietly and just listened, he wouldn’t have gotten so angry. Again, he gave a sincere apology, promising it would never happen again. That led to the first punch, which should have made me rethink the push, the slap, all of his apologies and empty promises. That time, all I saw was a swollen lip and bruised eye, caused by an attitude that I shouldn’t have had and a mouth I should have kept closed. By that point, I realized it was easier to just agree and do as he said. I loved him and I thought he loved me.

When you loved someone, you didn’t intentionally crush their spirit.  I learned there was no place for tears or hurt feelings in our marriage, at least not in front of others. Far too often I found my emotional release in the shower. I was alone; no one could hear my sobbing or pleading with God to show me how to make things right.

There came a point when I had to lie to family members as to why I wasn’t in attendance for certain events or why I was alone when I did attend. I learned to come up with excuses on the fly. I found myself continuously covering things up not only verbally, but also cosmetically. I walked on constant eggshells, not knowing what the day held. Through the years, I worked hard to get an education to provide for my family and to keep him content. But still, for some ungodly reason, he wasn’t. Of course, we’d put on the horse and pony show, proving to be the stable, loving, focused family. That was what everyone saw, and that was what they chose to believe we were. But when we got home, we were anything but.  Hindsight was twenty-twenty.

One could easily question why a woman would stay in such conditions, why she would consciously choose to be with a man that didn’t appreciate her, didn’t respect her. A man that put his hands on her in a way that no man should ever touch a woman. I couldn’t logically explain this. All I could say was that in my mind, this was all I knew. Somewhere deep inside I thought my love would change him. Love alone didn’t change a person; in fact, one person cannot change another. You couldn’t force something to be what it wasn’t.

After a long day in court followed by a quick trip to the office, I came home to prepare dinner. The smell of tomato sauce and sautéed peppers permeated the kitchen as my children spread out to do their homework and chatted about their day.  This was our special time. 

I hummed to myself as I chopped more red and orange peppers, when, out of the blue, my son, Chase, made a random comment.  Mommy, guess what? Without giving me a chance to respond, he continued. I watched Big Hero Six and played Minecraft with Triston today.

I paused with the knife in mid-air and glanced at my daughter, Ryann, gauging her expression.  Her eyebrows were tucked in, but then she shrugged and continued with her homework.  Confusion tugged at my gut and I felt the beginning of a dull ache in my stomach.  Triston was my friend Sasha’s son. Sasha and I were fairly close, considering my circumstances.  Our boys had practically grown up together, yet I hadn’t seen or spoken to Sasha in several weeks. If and when we did see her, it was always in passing and rushed.

The fact that Chase went to Sasha’s house raised a huge red flag for me.  Normally, I’d push it away, but a nagging prickle climbed up my spine and I couldn’t let it go. 

Oh yeah?  Who took you to Sasha’s house?  Trying to appear casual, I set the knife down on the cutting board and took two steps until I stood beside Chase.  I glanced cautiously at my husband who sat in his usual spot on the sofa, completely oblivious to our topic of conversation.

Daddy did. Chase’s attention remained on his paper.

Chase, honey, why did Daddy take you to Sasha’s? My voice wasn’t hushed, nor was I trying to be quiet. I was treading shaky ground. In the back of my mind, I knew I should approach this carefully. Drawing attention to the situation would only alarm Tyler. My stomach dipped again as I waited for Chase to respond.

I don’t know, Momma, he shrugged. They were in the room for a long time, and Daddy kissed Sasha on the lips when we left. Chase kept his head down as he pressed the vibrant blue crayon against the paper.  In that moment, the pounding of my heart was the only thing I heard pulsating in my ears.

Surely Chase was mistaken. My mind was a flurry of thoughts, my brow creased as I tried to make sense of things. Still staring at Chase, I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he imagined it. I ran my fingers through his thin brown hair as the storm continued to brew in my head.  Chase was only five-years-old; my instincts told me that he couldn’t make this up.

He continued to swap out the crayons as I stared at him lost in thought. With every shade of green and yellow, I was reminded of his vivid imagination.

Chase would animatedly tell tales of magic flying dragons and gigantic flying birds. His stories rarely included real people. Unless you counted the time his sister was fed to the dragon by one of the oversized feathered creatures. But this...this was different. Chase’s declaration caught me completely off guard. Panic and even anger rushed through me. I tried to keep the emotions at bay. I pulled in a long, deep breath, filling my burning lungs. Slowly exhaling, I tried to convince myself that I misunderstood. No matter how much you disliked your partner or wished things were different, you were never prepared to hear a statement like that.  My heart didn’t ache; it was more like disappointment. Overwhelming, saddening disappointment. What had I fought so hard for? Everything I endured, for what? For this? To be made into a fool? The thought of Tyler taking our son to witness such things made my blood boil.

Vivid images raided my head. My skin crawled as flashes of Tyler’s large hand flew in the air. I flinched as the smacking sound rang in my ears. Startling myself, I returned to the present.

My stomach was in my throat, as I forced my fingers through my own hair. I glanced back at the stove where the pasta sauce simmered, the aroma assaulting my senses. Nausea had taken over the swarm of butterflies in my stomach as I stood frozen in the kitchen, contemplating my next move. I could just sit quietly.

At one point in time I was this spitfire, a ballsy little thing who spoke her mind. Someone that gave half a fuck and wouldn’t back down from anything. But in recent years, I lost that girl. Until today. I had no idea where she had been hiding, but she burst through like a shot from a roman candle.

Throwing caution to the wind, I quickly found myself standing in front of the man I grew to fear and hate, yet still loved. The anger consumed me; the hatred and hurt overwhelmed me. In my mind, I had worked so hard to create this marriage, this life. True, it wasn’t a fairytale, but I began to believe the charade myself. I thought if I just held on, if I just loved him harder, if I was stronger, more vigilant to his needs, maybe just maybe we could have a great marriage. And if I couldn’t meet the expectations I had placed on myself, then just maybe my children could grow up in a home with both parents present. Such powerful meaning behind such a tiny word...if.  Obviously, I was the fool.

My throat went dry and my mouth went slack. The warmth on my face was damn near scorching and the fists I clenched at my sides began to numb. I knew there would be hell to pay, but that was a second thought. The words that left my mouth were not from the me I had become. They were from that once fierce girl who was hell on wheels and would battle you to the death. The one I missed so dearly.

You want to tell me what the fuck you were doing with your mouth on Sasha? I stood confident and proud of myself, holding my ground. Until he rose slowly to stand before me. His stalky five-foot-eight-inch frame, compared to my five-foot-five, was intimidating.  The fear raging through me was damn near paralyzing. The relentless pounding in my chest suddenly reminded me that I was the only one that could stand up for myself. I was the only one that could control my destiny. As frightened as I was, this was do or die. Literally.

Without removing his glazed eyes from mine, he spoke to my daughter through gritted teeth. Ryann, take your brother to his room. Tyler’s stern, yet even voice sent a shudder throughout my body.

I glanced quickly from him to Ryann and Chase, and back to him. With a disappointed face, Chase slowly climbed from the chair and skipped off down the hallway, leaving Ryann behind. She slowly followed, watching me with a concerned look.

Tyler’s eyes held mine for what felt like an eternity. Before I knew it, Tyler’s large hand was wrapped around my upper arm. I swallowed hard. It took everything in me to not falter. I wouldn’t look away. I refused to succumb to the fear he had instilled in me. For far too long I let him dictate my life. I allowed him to have control over me. Not this time. This would make or break me, and I’d be damned if I let this asshole take anything else from me.

I stood there facing the man, whom only when it benefitted him, claimed he loved me. I was sure that somewhere within me I hoped he did. I needed to believe it so the load I’d carried for so long wouldn’t have been for nothing, proving I fought the good fight for a reason. Maybe subconsciously I needed to know that I had earned his love.

Tyler’s face reddened, his eyes glazed over and his brow creased. The eyes I once loved bored into me, sending my stomach into a sinking spiral. His glare pierced my soul. It held the promise that this would hurt and that it wouldn’t be quick. Everything in me said to run, but I couldn’t. I wouldn’t back down from him. I stood bold and in plain sight. There was no more pretending or making excuses. In that moment, I realized I was finally done. Finished. It was no longer about holding on so he couldn’t let go. It wasn’t about hoping for change or riding it out. It was about me. For once it was about my happiness, my need to be free to live. I didn’t want to just exist. He had taken everything from me. The one thing I refused to let him have was my dignity. Or what was left of it. I would at least walk away or die with it. Come what may, it was mine and I refused to let that go.

His grip on my arm grew tighter, and his jaw tensed. He stepped in, closing the small distance between us. My neck craned as I lifted my eyes to meet his. I struggled to breathe. This is it; all hell is about to break loose. His thumb began to dig into my skin, but the adrenaline masked the pain. 

Alison, dear sweet Alison. You dare to stand here and speak to me like that? I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but let me quickly remind you. He spoke through gritted teeth, and not once wavered from his anger.

My eyes began to sting and I felt the tears forming, but I refused to cry.

Instantly my hair was in his hand and the other swung at full force. Normally I would just stand there and take what came. I would brace myself for the power behind the hit. I would prepare for the sting. I wasn’t sure what gave me the courage or what came over me, but suddenly my knee met his groin and he fell to the floor. At this point I should have just run, but of course, I didn’t. My entire body quaked with a combination of dread and rage. Still on the verge of crying, I stepped forward, and then knelt to ensure he could see my sincerity.

"Tyler, you don’t fucking own me. You won’t do this to me anymore. You want Sasha? You fucking got her! Get out of my house. That’s right, my house. You have exactly five minutes or I’m calling the police." I didn’t recognize my own voice. And to be quite honest, I wasn’t sure if I’d follow through with my threat or if it was just idle. All I knew was that I needed him to believe what I said. 

Tyler glared at me holding his crotch, moaning as he struggled to sit. "You bitch! You honestly think I’m going to walk away that easy? How fucking stupid are you? You have exactly five seconds to get the fuck out of my face, or there will be hell to pay! Do you hear me? Why the fuck are you still standing there?"

I didn’t budge. I wouldn’t. This could be the end of my life, but I wouldn’t go down without a fight. I held his gaze as he continued to moan in pain.

I’m not afraid of you. Four minutes, Tyler.  I slowly reached for my phone in my back pocket. Again, I wasn’t sure if I was ready to fulfill my threat, but I was damn sure going to make him think I would.

Slowly rising to his feet, I could see more than anger on his face. There wasn’t a single word to describe what I saw. It was a mixture of irritation, disdain, and pure evil. I lied when I said I wasn’t afraid of him. I was terrified of him and of what he could do to me.

Once on his feet, he knocked my phone from my hand, sending it flying across the room and under the side table. My hand flew back with it, causing me to be off balance. He came in with full force. He swung at me again, meeting my jaw with an open hand. I didn’t have time to brace for it. Crying out, my reflexes immediately kicked in. Without a second thought, again I raised my leg, meeting his groin for a second time with greater impact. Just as he doubled over, I pushed his head to my knee, causing his nose to bleed. Tyler fell forward, pushing me back. Son of a bitch!

He continued to spew obscenities at me.  Still petrified, I held my own. I. Am. Not. Afraid of you. Time is up.

I scrambled for my phone and dialed 9-1-1. My heart raced, and every emotion known to man coursed through my veins. Terror, love, hate, anxiety. I thought the fear and anger went hand in hand. I didn’t pay attention to the ringing on the other end of the line; I was lost in my own thoughts.

For a brief moment, I thought about my children, wondering if they could hear our argument or see what just took place. I knew Ryann wouldn’t let Chase come out if she sensed something was wrong. I took little comfort in that thought. My children should never be subjected to something of this nature.

Nine one-one, what’s your emergency? Hello? The dull voice on the other end of the line abruptly interrupted my train of thought. Again, my pulse quickened as I contemplated hanging up. I knew I couldn’t. I swallowed hard, feeling the bobbing in my throat urging the vomit to stay down. With a quick intake of air, I made my decision.

Yes, I need help. Please? Unexpectedly the tears streamed down my face. As I gave my information to the operator, I paced the floor never taking my eyes off Tyler. The fear that owned me for so long took deeper root, its branches quickly gripping my soul. If Tyler made it to his feet, he would end everything before help could arrive. I rushed across the floor, passed the untouched dinner on the stove, down the hall to the bedroom. My heart raced deep in my chest. Quickly shutting the door, I locked it and rested my back against it. If I could hold on just a little longer, I knew I’d be okay.

Despite the hold Tyler had on me, I knew something had to give and I was the only one that could alter the course of my life. I couldn’t predict the future; I was unsure what it held for my children and me. But one thing was for certain, I would have to find that long lost girl who cheered me on and didn’t take no for an answer. The girl who knew exactly what she wanted out of life and went for it. I wasn’t quite equipped at the moment to do it on my own. If I thought on it too long, the fear would consume and swallow me whole. I was spent and emotionally broken.

For so long, I gave him the power to control me. He made me feel inferior, and he knew it. How could I have let things get so out of hand? Why did I let a man steal my identity?  The only reasoning I could conclude was that I didn’t want to be a failure.  It slowly became very clear that I didn’t fail my marriage; my spouse failed me.

Tyler was arrested for domestic violence against a family member. I was aware it wouldn’t be difficult for him to make bail being his first offense. I knew without a doubt, he couldn’t return to our home. That decision would be a difficult one to follow through with, considering the children. But there was no other option. If I wanted to break free from him, be able to live my life and protect my children, I had to stick to my guns.

The kids stayed in the room until all was said and done, but they deserved an explanation. My heart raced as my mind swarmed with frightening thoughts of them reacting badly to what I had to say. It had occurred to me that I could lie about the situation and tell them the truth when they were older, but I knew it wasn’t right. Lying and protecting my kids were two different things. I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed. The smell of dinner was no longer pleasant; instead it nauseated me. Talking to them individually seemed like the best option. The conversation would vary depending on their age, but the message would remain the same.

Ryann looked up at me in confusion as my hands trembled and my palms started to sweat. I swept my them down my thighs, failing to rid myself of the anxiety.

I’m sorry this has happened, I said. Your dad has made some bad choices when it came to him and me. I swallowed hard. I shouldn’t have to say these things to my daughter. He put his hands on me when no man should ever even think twice about hitting a woman. I can’t take it anymore. Tears welled in my eyes as I tried to blink them away.  This has gone on for so long and I had him arrested because he won’t stop without consequences.

Mom, I can hear things through the walls, she paused briefly, I know what he does. Looking at the ground, she continued.  I cry myself to sleep praying that something bad will happen to him. Is that wrong? She sat wringing her hands in her lap nervously, as if she were unsure how to proceed.  I’ve known for a long time that something was going on.  I mean... when I hear him yelling and you crying, it’s obvious. Mom, I love Daddy, but I don’t like him when he’s like that.

My heart shattered into a million tiny pieces. I couldn’t imagine my daughter feeling such pain. I thought I hid the truth from her, but she knew. The ache deep in my chest mixed with the lump in my throat was enough to bring me to my knees. I glanced around the room. The picture of Ryann’s first day in preschool, aligned with Chase’s baby picture, and then there was the picture of our wedding day. I wouldn’t cry. I forced the lump down and