Lost in Me, Found in You

By Ivy Love

Isabella and Liz are best friends, each struggling, each with difficult decisions to make.
One of them is dealing with an abusive husband, while the other relives the horrors of her past.
Isabella has a quiet strength lingering beneath the surface ... she just needs someone to release it.
Isabella’s best friend, Liz, is wild, happy and carefree. She’s suffered in the past and now she’s looking out for her.

Two best friends who support each other until the very end. The decisions they make will have the power to impact now only their lives, but the lives of those around them.
Will they make it through their hearts in tact?
Will they get their happily-ever-after?
Or will they find themselves struggling to keep the life they know together?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ivy Love
• Release date: Mar 4, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370297849

Ivy Love

Simply put... I’m a lover of reading, writing, high heels and animals.When I’m not writing, I’m working in the legal field or playing with my four, yes, four dogs. When I was in grade school, I was your classic nerd. I spent more time reading books “above my grade level” and getting lost in them, instead of paying attention to the people around me. I loved the journey each book would take me on, I still do. When I was thirteen I picked up a pencil and wrote my first hundred page story. It was the moment I realized that I could not only lose myself in books, but in my own words. That was the moment I fell in love with writing.I write because I have to. I have stories to tell and want to share them with all of you. Whether you end up liking my books or not, I appreciate that you took the time to check me out.

Book preview

Lost in Me, Found in You

Lost in Me, Found in You

Book One in the Finders Series

B

y: Ivy Love

Cover art by: Lee Ching of Under Cover Designs

Edited by: Tiffany Landers

Copyright 2016© Ivy Love

Published in the United States of America

Worldwide Electronic & Digital Rights

Worldwide English Language Print Rights

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any form, including digital and electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the prior written consent of the Publisher, except for brief quotes for use in reviews.

T

his is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is purely coincidental.

Dedication

T

o every person who ignored the haters and non-believers and shot for the stars anyway. You can do anything you put your mind to.

Acknowledgements

First and foremost, thank you to the man who stands by my side through all of my crazy ideas. For not knowing what I write when people ask you, ha-ha. For supporting me in this journey and not caring when I celebrate every little milestone.  Thank you for helping me make my swag and trying to make things easier for me.

Thank you to my grandparents, who bought my first book and read it.  Who, in hindsight, I should have given some sort of warning not to read it, and am asking here and now, please don’t read any farther! But thank you for supporting me in everything I do.  

Thank you to MJ Fields. Every time I talk to you I leave with a smile.  Thank you for giving me the push I needed to do this.  This would have never happened without you and your friendship! Thank you for your advice and guidance. You’re a truly wonderful person and I’m so lucky to have you in my life.   

Thank you to Bobbie, Jamie, Kim, Laurie, Lucy and Paige for too many things to name.  Thank you for always being there to help out and listen. You ladies absolutely rock and I love you all!

Thank you to every blog who has shared, liked, reviewed and tweeted. Without your help I would just be a random person who put out a book, but you’ve helped to put a face with my book.

Thank you, Tiffany Landers, for your support and pushing me to keep writing and always sharing my work and me. I truly appreciate it.

Thank you to all my Imps. I love you all and being able to bounce ideas off you and share things with you! Thank you for being there with me on this journey!

I

f I forgot you, it was not intentional, that’s strictly my overwhelmed and very thankful mind. Thank you to everyone who has helped me and shared in this experience with me. Last, but not least, thank you, dear reader.  Thank you for taking a chance on me and purchasing this book. I hope you enjoy this book as much, if not more, than the last. 

Prologue

I quickly silence my phone as I wake up. This morning, I wake with hope. Today is going to be different from the other days we’ve been having lately. Today is the day things are going to get better.

I quietly slip from the bed, careful not to wake Jared as I sneak out of our bedroom. I pad softly to the kitchen and start pulling out eggs, bacon and vegetables. I rarely cook; it isn’t something I like to do, mainly because whenever I do I manage to either hurt myself, or it turns out horrible. Today I’m taking a chance and using an omelet recipe I got from my best friend, Liz, and I’m going to make my husband the best anniversary breakfast ever. I pull out the recipe and begin to hum to myself as I cut the vegetables.

The room fills with the sound of my humming voice and the smell of bacon and eggs. I walk over to the bookshelf, open the bottom drawer and pull out the present I worked so hard to create. It’s a wooden box with an accordion scrapbook of photos from our time together, not just the years we’ve been married, but our college years too. On top of the box, I place a wallet sized piece of engraved copper. This way he can take a love note from me wherever he goes. The note says:

Best friends, lovers, husband and wife. For eight years we have loved, laughed and cried. I can’t imagine spending my days with anyone but you. For yesterday, today and tomorrow, I’ll love you forever and ever.

I can’t wait to give it to him. I know it isn’t anything fancy, but I’m hoping he will love it as much as I do. It’s something he would have once loved. I put the breakfast I made on a tray, make a mimosa, and place the gift in the corner of the tray. I walk back to the bedroom and see he’s wide-awake and playing on his phone.

Good morning, baby! I say happily.

Hmph, he grunts.

I walk around to his side of the bed and place the tray on his lap.

What the fuck is this for?

Great. He’s already in a mood and this is definitely not going the way I hoped it would.

I just thought I’d try to do something nice for our anniversary today, I say, slightly stepping back.

Oh, yeah. Happy Anniversary. He begins to dig into the food and downs the mimosa in one gulp.

You got any more of this? He questions, shaking the glass at me.

I nod and walk back to the kitchen. He’s just tired. I mean, he just woke up. I’m not sure why I expected him to wake up in a good mood. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Everything will be okay. He’s stressed out with everything going on at work and he just isn’t awake yet. Once he’s awake, things will be good. I continue my pep talk to myself as I refill his glass. This will be a good day. The day has just started, and it’ll get better. Plus, I made an awesome breakfast, so once he’s got some food in his stomach, he’ll feel much better. I take another deep breath, steadying my emotions and dreading my walk back to the bedroom.

I walk toward him and hand him the glass. How’s the food?

It’s all right, he mumbles as he shoves another bite into his mouth.

I’m a little hurt by his comment, but I try to laugh it off, Well, that’s good. At least it’s not terrible, especially considering I made it.

What’s this? He points to the wrapped box in the corner.

That’s my anniversary gift to you, I smile.

Why did you get me a gift? I didn’t get you anything, he says, scowling.

That’s okay. I just wanted to get you a little something. It’s not much. Go ahead and open it.

He puts his fork down and grabs the present. He begins ripping off the wrapping paper and when he gets to the wooden box, he looks at me annoyed.

It’s not just a wood box, open it. I say eagerly, leaning closer to him.

He lifts the lid and pulls out the copper engraving. I watch his face as he reads it, searching for any type of emotion and find none. He places it to the side and picks out the first picture. It’s a picture of us in college, our first kiss.

I remember it like it was yesterday. Class had just let out and we were walking and talking about an upcoming project and this torrential downpour just came out of nowhere. We raced to find shelter under a building but everyone was hiding there, so we started running toward our dorms. We were in the middle of campus under a canopy of trees and began to slow down. I remember he stopped first and I ran into his chest. I looked up into his hazel eyes and was lost. He caressed my cheek, leaned down and brushed his lips with mine. Then he asked if I had my camera, I remember nodding and he said I had to document this day because it would be my last first kiss.

I look at him today and watch as he looks at the photos, pulling them out one after another and there is no smile, no talk, or reminiscing. He goes through all of the pictures and places them back in the box, along with the engraving.

You thought that this would be a good present? he asks, staring and leaning toward me.

Well, yes… I mean, I just thought...

You thought, that was the problem. If you wanted to get me a present you should have gotten me a bottle of liquor or tickets to a NBA game. That would have been thoughtful. Not some lame attempt to get me to reminisce about a past that isn’t even relevant anymore.

I’m sorry, I just thought that it might be a nice present and that you could take it with you to work.

You are one, stupid bitch.

You know what? I say, my voice cracking as I get out of bed. I’m so tired of this. I was trying to do something nice for our anniversary today. But you’re acting like an ass and to be perfectly honest, you’ve been acting like one for the past couple of months and I have no idea why. If I’ve done something wrong, at least have the balls to tell me what I’ve done. I bend over and grab my pillows and blanket off the bed. Before I can leave, Jared grabs my arm, yanking me back onto the bed.

He throws the tray of food across the room and the glasses and plates shatter. Listen to me and listen to me good.

Ouch! You’re hurting me, Jared! Let go of my arm.

I don’t give a flying fuck, he says, squeezing harder. We’ve been together for eight years, which is eight years too fucking long. I just don’t care anymore. Do you know what I do care about? Over the past couple of months, I’ve discovered there are people out there who actually care. People who are actually interested in what my interests are. People who challenge me intellectually and who actually like me. They don’t try to change me, they like me for who I am and have no problem with who I am, or what my habits are. They like me for me. Something you can’t do. Let’s be honest here, you’ve never been satisfied with just me.

I turn to him in shock, "What in the hell are you talking about? I have never tried to change you. Never. From day one I have loved you. I’ve loved you, faults and all, because that’s what makes you who you are. You’re imperfectly perfect for me. I’ve never told you to not be yourself or to not follow a dream you had. I’ve always been supportive of you and you can be damn sure there has never been a time I haven’t loved you for you. I pause, my body fuming with anger. This is the first time I’ve ever questioned my love for you. I don’t know what the hell is going on with you, but here’s a clue…talk to your wife, instead of pushing her away!"

He reaches out with his free hand and slaps me across the face.

I freeze. What the fuck just happened? He has never raised a hand to me…ever. I don’t know this man standing before me, he’s not the man I married. I watch him raise his hand again and I reach out to grab his arm before he can take another swing.

Don’t you dare fucking touch me! I rip my arm from his vise-like grip and run out of the bedroom. I am reeling from what just happened and I need time to process the situation. I need to figure out what to do and where our relationship is going; if there is even a relationship left and if there’s any way to fix this. I lock myself in the guest bedroom and begin to cry.

Seriously, what the fuck just happened? What am I saying? I know what happened. He hit me. He fucking hit me. I mean he’s grabbed my arm before, but he’s never raised a hand to me. What do I do now? Where do we go from here? Is there anywhere to go from here? He was never this person, what happened to him? What happened to us? Did I do something wrong? No, don’t go there Izzy. Deep breaths. This isn’t my fault. I can’t…no…I won’t stay with him if he continues to treat me like this. I deserve better. I am better than this. But I love him. He’s been my life for the past eight years. What will I do if I lose him? Wait, what will I do if I lose him? I’ll be fine. No, the better question is what will he do if he loses me? I am worth more than this. I know what I deserve and this isn’t it. I just wish I knew what happened. What brought us to this point? I don’t know what happened to him, and I don’t know what I did, but I know I don’t deserve this. What the fuck did he mean with his dumb cryptic message? Does that mean he’s cheating on me? I’ve been a good wife. Could I have been better? Yes, but I certainly wasn’t the worst!? No. Fuck that shit. Maybe he was just being an ass, trying to get a rise out of me. Success, jack ass. Fuck. I need answers, but I’m not ready to face him again, at least not yet.

There’s a knock at the door. Izzy, I’m so sorry. Please open the door. I don’t respond. Baby, please, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I just…I just feel so bad that I didn’t get you anything and basically forgot our anniversary. Please let me make this up to you. My actions are inexcusable, but please let me try to make it up to you.

That right there is the man that I married, the man that I love. I walk toward the door and open it. He stands there with his arms open and I collapse into them. I’m so sorry. Honey, I shouldn’t have done that. Please don’t cry. He strokes my hair with his hands.

He walks me into the bedroom. Let me hold you, let me make it better.

I nod hesitantly and he shuts the door behind us.

Chapter One

Isabella

Six months later…

I look around my room as I gather my things for the night. I’m not expecting to be out too long tonight, but I don’t have any idea of what to expect from the evening. Liz really hasn’t given me anything to go on. She just said she needed me, so I’m going. I’d do anything for that girl, she’s always been there for me, so I am going to be there for her no matter what the consequences may be. I grab my clutch and throw my lip gloss and wallet inside. I check myself in the mirror one last time. I think I’ve successfully achieved the look I’m going for. I was going for cute, but not provocative. I want to look good, but don’t want to give off the wrong impression. Now the only thing I have to worry about is reminding Jared about my night out. I talked with him about this last week but I doubt he remembers. Even though we spent an hour arguing about it. There was a lot of yelling, mainly because he’s slightly paranoid, but he has no reason to be. I invited him to come along but he refused.

I thought things were going to get better. We had a moment after our fight on the morning of our anniversary, but by that night he was screaming at me again. That wasn’t the last time we argued, sadly. Lately, I try to quietly avoid him. It’s just easier and less stressful. Since he was promoted at work, he’s been drinking more and caring less, so I pick my battles with him. I take a deep breath, pick up my clutch and head out toward the living room.

Hey, honey, I say, tentatively approaching the couch. I can