As I Love You

By Lora Ann

***Author's note: This book is a reissue of The Stevens Place. The cover and title have changed, but the story remains the same.***

Aidan and Beth have known each other for as long as they can remember. Love blossomed once, leaving little doubt these two were destined to be together. Then fate intervened, marring their love with tragedy.

Fifteen years later…

Following her six-year marriage to an abusive husband, Beth has reached a crossroads in her life.

Moving home, she hopes for solace and a second chance at happiness, but two years pass, and still she is haunted by nightmares that just might destroy her.

Aidan Kellum is the most sought-after actor in Hollywood. He has attained mega-star status, but something is missing. Unsure if he needs to expand his career, or take some time off, he finds himself searching for perspective in the small town he once called home. Aidan and Beth find their way back to one another, where love erupts passionately. But fate isn't finished with them yet ...

Their lives become more challenging than either of them could have ever imagined.

*Please note: there are some scenes of domestic violence that could be a trigger for some.

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Greatest of These, LLC
• Release date: Jan 31, 2013
• ISBN: 9781386208068

Book preview

Prologue

(Beth)

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I can’t do this, Mom. Please. What do you say at a funeral? Tears were flowing. I could not muster up the courage to speak in front of the whole town and then some. I’d never seen our church so packed. There were even people standing outside!

Elizabeth. Ally was your friend. That’s all you have to talk about. You’ll be just fine, Sweet Girl. You have such a beautiful way with words, she said reassuringly.

I think I’m going to be sick. I clutched my stomach and bent over, willing myself not to vomit in front of all these people. I said a silent prayer. Father, please let me honor Ally. Give me the strength to do this. Please, please, give me the right words to say, and may they speak love and joy to Aidan and his family. Amen.

As I approached the pulpit, I saw my father wink at me, Brian, my brother, smile slightly, and him. Even in his grief, his eyes swollen from crying, he was the most beautiful boy I had ever laid my eyes on. His kindness knew no bounds just like his beloved older sister. At that moment, I knew exactly what I would say.

Ally was one of my best friends. Although she was seven years older than me, she was my big sister in every way. I’ve known her my entire life. We laughed together, we cried together, and we would race our horses all over this town. I loved her very much. She always had a kind word to say about everyone. I never saw her angry with anyone. She radiated such peace and joy. You could feel it through her music and you could see it all over her face. She wasn’t rich in money, but she gave wholeheartedly. I can remember her giving every last penny she had to help someone in need. I even saw her give away a new jacket to a girl that didn’t have one, one cold winter morning. Her favorite scripture was the love chapter, 1 Corinthians 13. I know if you have attended a wedding, you have heard this scripture. Ally did her very best to live her life with pure love. My hope is for everyone to mirror the love she always showed, whether you were friend or stranger. I looked at Michael, her father; Melissa, her mother; and then Aidan, her brother. I smiled slightly, continuing, I love you, Allison Rose, I will miss you greatly, but I know this is not good-bye. For I will rejoice with you in heaven, when I come home. In the meantime, you will always be on our minds and in our hearts forever.

I looked back over to Mom, who was crying, then started to sweep the church. There was not a dry eye in there, including mine. I had honored her. Silently, I thanked God, for giving me the words to say that were in my heart.

*****

Later, I went for a walk. It had been such an emotional day. I sat on the edge of a small pond, as the memories came pouring in. The first time the Kellum family came to my house for dinner, or at least the first time I could remember, all of us kids went out to the barn to play hide-and-seek. Ally had tucked me under some hay. It took the boys fifteen minutes to finally give up.

Our rides were spectacular. I learned every deer trail all over the town limits, and some neighboring towns as well. We never took the main roads. No one seemed to mind us jumping their fences, or grazing the horses on their land. But our favorite place to hang out was the Stevens’ farm. They were hardly ever there—busy in Los Angeles with work. It was a charming Victorian house with a gorgeous front porch. Every time I looked at that house I could see myself sitting there watching as my children grew. You could usually find us playing on their oak tree. It had an old tire swing hanging from the branch, which we all loved. Some of my best times happened there. We all met there every day after school: Ally, Aidan, Brian, and I, were practically inseparable. Even after Ally left for college, she still came home as much as possible. When she was away, the boys and I were called the Three Musketeers.

I adored Aidan. He was so much more than a friend. Our relationship had taken a new turn that was very welcomed. I knew I’d marry him some day. He was truly my other half. It happened over the summer. Like every summer, we all went up to my family’s cabin at Big Bear. It was a trip we all looked forward to. While fishing one day, Aidan and I reached for the worms at the same time. Our fingers touched like thousands of times before, but this time something was different.

On that same trip, we held hands for the first time by the bonfire. Ally had said, I smell true love blooming. We all laughed. I was so embarrassed. I couldn’t talk to Aidan for two days. That was also when Ally started getting migraines. At least that was what we thought they were. How could we have known she would be gone within six short months.

I sighed heavily and startled when Aidan sat down next to me, grabbing my hand. We never said a word. We didn’t have to. I glanced over at him, seeing the tears. I put my arms around him, holding him tight. He tucked my head against his chest, gently kissing the top of my head. It wasn’t the first time he’d ever kissed me like that. Up at the cabin, he’d even kissed me on the lips. I always felt so safe with him, loved and accepted. He was my very best friend, and so much more.

He finally spoke, I miss her.

Sighing, I replied, So do I.

What you said was beautiful. Thank you. His voice caught on a sob. We didn’t speak again for a very long time.

I walked him back to his car, kissed his cheek, and said, Meet me at our favorite tree tomorrow?

’Kay. He tried to smile. And then he suddenly pulled me close, hugging me hard. Promise me, Beth... you’ll never leave me. I could hear the anxiety in his voice.

I nodded and said, Promise. Will you promise the same?

Yes. He nodded.

*****

It was a week later before he truly opened up to me. Sometimes I wish I could have a once in a lifetime do over, but I know, even at thirteen, they don’t happen.

He suddenly said, I’m leaving, Beth

I was confused. What?

He couldn’t look at me. He spoke so softly I could barely hear him. My parents are getting a divorce. Mom and I are moving away.

No! You promised! I was angry and sad. How could this be happening? Hadn’t we gone through enough? Losing Ally was horrible. I couldn’t lose Aidan, too!

I know I did. I’m so sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am. I don’t want to leave, but...I have to. He was pleading for my understanding.

I ran away.

*****

It was another three days before I saw him again. I realized how stupid that was. I had lost precious time, but I just couldn’t wrap my brain around all that was happening.

I was on the tire swing when he approached. Hey, you still speaking to me?

I stopped the swing. Yes, of course I am. But don’t expect me to be happy about this.

He yanked my hair. Did I say I was happy about leaving you?

That got my attention. I got off the swing and stood in front of him. Although, he was only a couple months older than me, he was tall for his age. He already stood three inches taller than me. I looked up at him, our gazes locked. In that moment, there was a spark of electricity between us; something I didn’t understand. He leaned down, gently placing his lips on mine. I gasped at the intensity of the moment. He tentatively put his tongue in my mouth. Instinct kicked in as our tongues began a slow and hesitant dance, the kind of kiss you remember for a lifetime.

I pulled away, breathing hard. What was that?

He was breathing just as hard. I don’t know.

I looked at him and couldn’t hide my amazement. That was better than anything I’ve ever read about.

He chuckled low. My little bookworm. You know most girls would say they’d ever seen on TV, or at the movies.

Yeah, well, I’m not like most girls.

He smiled. I’m glad.

Aidan?

Yes.

Can we do that again? I bit my lip, not sure if I asked too boldly.

His smile was like the sun coming out after a thunderstorm. I’d like that, very much!

This time, there was no hesitation. He wrapped his arms around me, possessively, as our tongues entwined. I don’t know how long we kissed. If I had my way, I’d have never stopped. He broke the kiss, both of us panting.

Wow!

Yeah. Wow! I smiled and stroked his cheek, seeing the tears in his eyes.

I swallowed the huge lump in my throat. What is it, Aidan?

I’m leaving in a few minutes.

Huh?! I was gasping for air.

Then I saw his mom’s car pull up and heard her say somberly, It’s time.

I stood there, disbelieving. I shook my head.

He stroked my cheek with the back of his fingers. No matter where I am, or what I’m doing, remember, that you will always be on my mind and forever in my heart.

The very words I had said at Ally’s funeral. I was blinking back the tears, hard, trying desperately to memorize his face. I whispered, I love you, Aidan. This is not good-bye. Promise me?

He softly feathered my lips with his twice, then murmured, I promise.

We walked over to the car hand in hand, and Mrs. Kellum said, I’m so sorry, Elizabeth. Her bottom lip was trembling.

I nodded. I had no more words to say.

Right before she pulled away, he leaned his head out the window, with tears streaming down his face he called, As I love you, Beth.

I watched the car drive off into the sunset until I couldn’t see it anymore. I began to sob. I sat down against the oak tree, pulled my knees to my chest, and bawled like a baby. Nothing could ever hurt this much. A piece of my heart just drove away, and I knew I’d never have it again. It belonged to Aidan Michael Kellum.

Chapter One

A Lesson in Forgiveness

(Aidan)

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Fifteen years later.

I took the road faster than I should. I knew it was stupid to drive so fast on the winding country back roads. I just couldn’t help myself. I needed the escape. I had to get my head on straight. It was all happening way too fast! I needed her, needed to hear her voice. I wished with all my heart that I could hold her again, to see her once more. Hopefully this would be the one place I could let go and just be me. I couldn’t get there fast enough. I had to be there, now!!!!

Home...such an interesting concept. I hadn’t thought of Ballard as home for so long. I realized that was what it was, my home. It felt like a million years ago since I had stepped foot here. Nothing had really changed. That was the nice thing about a tiny town in the middle of nowhere.

Would I find what I was so desperately looking for here? Could I really hear her? I might be losing my mind! Ha! I could see that headline.

Twenty-eight-year-old Aidan Kellum checked into a hospital last night for insanity.

Just what I needed, more shit said about me! One would think they’d grow tired of me. Oh, how I wished they would. I really did love most of my fans, and I didn’t mind the interviews or photo shoots. I just wanted to have my private life, private. Was that really too much to ask for? The price you pay for fame, was what I’d heard a hundred times in my career. Easy for them to say, they didn’t have people hiding out to snap candid photos. Bet they would change their opinions if they did. I truly loved what I did. I couldn’t imagine not being an actor, or being in the entertainment industry. What an incredible journey! Most people went their whole life never doing what they were passionate about. I knew how blessed I was, that wasn’t the problem I was having now.

I let out a heavy sigh. So what’s wrong? I asked myself, What is it that I’m searching for? I mean, from the outside looking in, I had it all. Even I realized it appeared that way. Why did I want to talk to my sister after all these years? Why did I think I’d find the answers here? I honestly didn’t know, but the need was so strong it was almost painful. I was now driving faster than I had ever gone in my life. Some small voice was begging me to slow down. Yet another one was screaming, "Faster! You have to get there now!"

I parked my motorcycle, a black and silver vintage Harley, on the dirt road next to the cemetery. I didn’t have the words for how I was feeling, the longing for Ally’s arms around me. I could almost feel her presence as I sat down. Her tombstone read:

Loving Daughter, Granddaughter, Sister, and Friend

Allison Rose Kellum, born on January 22, 1975

Went to be with our Lord, on March 3, 1996

The tears rolled down my cheeks as the memories overtook me.

Ally was the best sister anyone could ever have. She was sweet and funny, never had a harsh word to say about anyone or anything. An angel here on earth, was what I had heard time and time again. She really was like no other—my best friend. She always wore her hair pinned up on the sides, hanging down her back. Her beautiful, pale-blonde curls were a sight to see. She was petite, only standing five foot one inch, and not weighing more than a hundred pounds. She looked like Mom. I looked like Dad. Her eyes were the deepest green, like staring into emeralds. Those she got from our father. A true beauty, with a smile that could stop your breath.

I never grew tired of hearing her sing. Her voice was a gift from God. Of course, I tried to sing with her, but there really was no comparison. Instead, I learned to play the piano. We were quite a duo, playing for all that would listen. It was hard to believe that there was a seven year age difference. She had all the qualities I could only hope for.

I rubbed off the grass clippings and began to sob, Ah, how I miss you!

My memory continued to spin with some of the happiest times of my life. Ally never grew bored with me. Whatever I wanted to do, she was willing. She was nothing like many other kids, so into themselves that they couldn’t be bothered by a younger sibling. I often wondered if somehow she knew she wouldn’t be with us for very long.

It was obvious that our parents were having marital problems. Ally would always say, They’ll work it out, don’t worry. They just need to pray through it. Ally’s favorite quote was, Pray through it.

I sobbed by her bedside that night in the hospital. "I am praying harder than I ever have, Ally. He’s not listening. He’s not making you better!"

She was crying too, but not because she was afraid to die. It was because she hated seeing me in pain. She was stroking my cheek, barely able to speak. Don’t worry about me, Aidan. I’ll be just fine. You have so much to do here. Please remember that. You have a gift. Never take it for granted, and always remember it’s from God. Fall in love, marry, have wonderful children. We’ll be together again, I promise.

I love you, I whispered, kissing her cheek.

I love you, too, little brother. Those were her last words to me.

She never spoke again, dying that very night. I made a promise that I would live my life so Ally would be proud of me.

Regret filled me as I realized I hadn’t always made the right choices. There were things I’d done she would not be proud of. Could she forgive me for those? Knowing Ally, yes, she could. Forgiveness was not something she struggled with. I, on the other hand, greatly wrestled with it. I still couldn’t forgive God for taking my beloved sister from me.

Cancer, such an ugly word. We really had no idea it would move so fast. Ally was diagnosed with a rare form of brain cancer in September 1995. Six months later, she was gone. I remember screaming at God, Why not me? Ally had so much more to give than I ever could.

Now, sitting here filled with all these memories, I felt another presence with me. I also felt the desire to pray. Wow! I hadn’t prayed in fifteen years. Huh? I suppose I did need to forgive. I forgive you, Lord, forgive my dad for what he did to my mother, and of course, forgive Gwen. Ugh!! Could I really do this? The resentment had been a part of me for so long now. To let it go, to be free? I had to admit, I really liked the sound of that. Freedom, to no longer be haunted. I mean, that was the real reason for forgiveness, right? I wasn’t letting anyone get away with anything. I was simply setting myself free. All of a sudden, I wanted it—wanted it bad—like gasping for air after holding your breath underwater for too long. I needed it to my very core. I knew this was what had to be done. This was why I was drawn there. I realized that now.

Once again, the memories hit.

To say the funeral of a twenty-one-year-old was surreal would be a vast understatement. It felt like an out-of-body experience. I knew what was happening, I just didn’t want to be going through it. The one saving grace of the whole day was Beth. She was shy, sweet, slightly quirky—but in a cool way—and a remarkable beauty. My buddy Brian’s older sister. Actually, Beth was the same age as me, give or take a couple of months; Brian, eighteen months younger than her. She was also my best friend.

In a remote area like this, everyone knew each other. We all went to church and school together. The Evans owned the only grocery store in a five mile radius. They were kind, hard-working, and honest. The type of family you were proud to call friends. And friends was exactly what they were. To everyone they knew they were very loyal and loving. I’d hung out at the Evans’ at least three times a week since I was five. It felt like my second home, with Dave and Caroline, another set of parents. Brian and I were brothers, through and through. We played soccer and went snow boarding. When Beth and Ally joined us, we climbed trees, played hide-and-seek in the forest, and rode horses.

Suddenly, the memory of our fifth grade year flooded my thoughts. That was the year I began noticing Beth in a different way. Of course, it took a couple more years to act on it. She had long, thick and curly, strawberry-blonde hair, with blue green eyes the color of the ocean. Her perfect oval face was flawless. She was fair-skinned with full, rosebud lips that always made a slight pout. At my age now, I’d say she had the most sensual mouth I’d ever had the pleasure to kiss. But at eleven I didn’t know that.

Elizabeth was nice and funny. She always had a book in her hand. I liked to read, but not as much as her. That year we sat next to each other in Mrs. Cook’s class. I remembered talking to Ally about some of these things. She really liked Beth a lot. One time she’d said, If I could pick a sister it would be Elizabeth Evans.

We were assigned partners on a science fair project. I was not happy. I confided in Ally, She’s way too smart for me.

She replied, Aidan, you’re very smart. You just don’t always show that side of yourself. With her heartwarming smile and a soft chuckle, she then said something I would never forget. She intrigues you, challenges you, but not in a competitive way. She’s good for you. Some day you may realize just how good.

Rolling my eyes, I said, Oh, please, it’s not like I’m gonna marry her. I laughed. I mean, I knew she was a cute girl. One would have to be blind not to notice that. Good for me? I’m only eleven!

I sat there laughing at that conversation from so many years ago. Then the memory of Ally’s funeral brought more tears to my eyes.

Beth had spoken that day. Afterwards, she seemed to know exactly what I needed as I sat there staring at my sister’s lifeless body. She didn’t say, I’m sorry, like every adult. She didn’t look at me weird like most of the other kids. No, Beth simply sat beside me, holding my hand. When I looked into those ocean blue green eyes, I saw the most beautiful of souls. The compassion was unbelievable. She never said a word unless I spoke first. I knew that if Ally could see us, she would have cried at the love Beth showed that day.

Um, I wonder if she still lives around here. Wow, that was someone I wasn’t expecting to think of today. Oh, Ally, I wish you could talk to me now. I feel so lost, like something is missing. I have no idea what it is. Again, the feeling that I needed to forgive overwhelmed me.

More memories began to surface.

Mike, my father, loved my sister very much. She was his pride and joy. I never felt like I meant much to him. I was more of an after-thought than a son. Ally loved me, so he tolerated me—that was about all I could say. He was a big man, tall with broad shoulders. A man’s man was what one would call him. The ladies loved my father and he loved them. That was the problem of course, his love/lust for other women.

My parents met in high school. They married after graduating and had my sister six months later. Common story, but from the very beginning Dad had his eyes on every pretty girl he saw. My mother knew, choosing to look the other way. She loved him and figured that he would stop as soon as the baby was born. It only got worse. I hated him for that. My mom deserved better than a player for a husband.

Last I heard, he was shacking up in Vegas with a stripper. Forgive him for all of that? I didn’t know if I could.

Right after Ally died, he took off with his flavor of the week. My mother decided it was time to leave. She packed our stuff. Two weeks after the funeral, we were on our way to Los Angeles. She figured the small town life didn’t work out so she would try the big city. I blamed my dad for the whole mess. I didn’t want to leave. Ballard was all I knew. I didn’t want to be in such a big city. I had just lost my best friend in the whole world. Now, I had to say good-bye to the only other two friends I had. Life really sucked!

I still remembered, so vividly, the day I left.

Beth was at our favorite place, the big oak tree out on the Stevens’ farm. It had an old tire swing hanging from it. We all loved to play there.

She was just sitting on the swing that day, staring at the acres in front of her. Evidence of Spring was all around, tiny buds everywhere. She was simply taking it all in. When she heard me approach, she looked up. Once our gazes locked, I knew I had to kiss her, as in French kiss her. It was something I dreamt about, but had never tried before. That one kiss, my very first kiss, changed my life in more ways than one. It was mind-boggling. She was magnificent. I hated to leave her. I knew I’d hurt her. It felt so wrong, for reasons I just couldn’t understand. A part of me died with my sister, and that day another part stayed with Beth.

To this day, I compared all kisses to that one. I wondered...did Beth ever forgive me? Here we go again with the forgiveness. It was becoming quite obvious that I needed to forgive everyone, including myself. Could I?

LA and I did not get along. I absolutely loathed the school I was in. The bad grades and fights were proof of that. Mom was at a loss as to what to do. She tried to talk to me, but all I would do is slam the door in her face. I wasn’t angry with her, but I didn’t know what to say. If she knew just how miserable I was, it would’ve made her feel worse.

She thought we should have a day of fun, so she kept me home from school. That day we played tourist. I had to admit, I really enjoyed it. We decided to go to the Warner Brothers Studios.

That was the day my whole life changed forever. I chuckled slightly at the memory. Ally would have laughed so hard. I could hear her voice in my head, Leave it to you to get lost and end up a movie star. Literally, that is how it happened.

While on our tour, Mom went to use the ladies’ room. She left me standing there and told me not to move. I had no intention of disobeying her. It was a simple case of mistaken identity. One moment I was waiting for Mom, and the next, I was being escorted to an audition. I was seriously scared to death. I had no idea who the lady was, or what she was doing. I kept trying to tell her she had the wrong person, but she wouldn’t listen. She was too busy talking on her mobile phone. Next thing I knew, I was reading lines from a script. Of course, it was about a boy whose best friend had just died. When I finished, everyone was crying. Needless to say, I got the part. The look on their faces when they realized I wasn’t James Thomas was hilarious.

I couldn’t help but laugh out loud sitting there in the cemetery. When Mom came in, frantic with worry, they finally understood what had transpired. My career began that day. No regrets, it’d been incredible. I had only one negative tied to my career. Could I forgive her?

Gwendolyn Hayde was a force to be reckoned with. Her statuesque figure was not something I ever grew accustomed to. We’d met on the set of my first romance. She played my love interest in the movie. Quickly she became my love interest off set. It had happened so fast, and I couldn’t remember when I had agreed to move in with her. I was only eighteen-years-old, and she was twenty-eight. I learned a lot from Gwen. For that much, I was grateful. But that was as far as my gratitude could go. She was a true bitch, in every sense of the word. From the very beginning, her only reason for being with me was for her personal gain. I had been a stupid kid to actually believe in her. Unfortunately, I fell in love. I’d have done anything for her. I wanted to make her my wife. I wasn’t comfortable with just living with someone. Guess I’m more traditional than I should be. The night Gwen broke my heart and left forever altered my take on true love.

I’d planned it so well: The candles. The wine. The soft music. I even had dinner catered in from her favorite restaurant. When I got down on one knee, asking for her hand, she laughed. Not a sweet, nervous giggle. Oh, no! I’m talkin’ full-blown belly laugh, and I was the butt of the joke. Ever want to crawl under a rock and die? I sure did! It was the most humiliating moment of my life. I still recalled her exact words. Good God, Aidan! Do you really think I love you? I did until that question. It hit me hard; realizing then what a fool she had played me for.

The anger and resentment were still there after five years. I had to do it. I had to forgive. I finally surrendered—in the middle of a cemetery, in a town I hadn’t been in for 15 years. I found myself on my knees praying. Something I hadn’t done since that night in the hospital. I asked for forgiveness and to forgive all who had wronged me. It was the most humbling, and yet powerful thing, I’d ever done.

I still felt like there was another reason for me to be here. I didn’t know why, but I had a sense of peace about it. I just knew there was a purpose for all of this.

Hey, Ally, guess what they offered me yesterday? Yep, director. I’d always wanted to direct, however, I wasn’t sure that I was ready for that yet. For some reason, I asked for time to think about it. Really, Ally, what is there to think about? I sat there for a long time trying to find a reason for my apprehension.

I had a few goals to achieve...like direct and write a script for a movie. I still wanted to do a project in honor of my sister, with all of the proceeds going to brain cancer research. Of course, I’d been busy making movies. I hadn’t really had time to hammer out the details. I did donate, in Ally’s name, to several cancer foundations. But I wanted to do more. I will, Ally, I promise you. I will do it. I love you, so much. I’ll visit sooner next time.

So much had changed, yet I still had questions. I stood and stretched, not realizing I had been sitting way too long. I got back on my Harley and rode out much slower than I had arrived. I wanted to take in the scenery. It was such a beautiful day.

*****

I found myself out at the Stevens’ property. There was my favorite tree with the old tire swing hanging from it. Sitting on the swing was a woman, her long, curly reddish-blonde hair blowing in the breeze. I didn’t know what to expect. When she turned around, her beauty caught me off guard. I’d been around pretty women my entire life, especially once I started acting. Actresses, models, and entertainers were very striking, at least when they were in public. If you saw them without all the makeup on, they looked like any other attractive woman.

This woman was beyond gorgeous; absolutely stunning, in a quiet graceful way. Her appeal was natural, not a drop of makeup on her face. The white cotton sundress followed her curves, perfectly. I was utterly speechless. At that moment, I realized there was no other woman for me. I had to have this one. Something about her eyes captivated me. I couldn’t see their color clearly from where I was. I wasn’t thinking straight. She smiled. Wow, her lips looked so full and supple like a rosebud. I wanted to walk right up to her and kiss her senseless. Oh, how I wanted to do so much more. Desire had never surged through me like it did now. Whoa, slow down big guy, you don’t even know her name. Take this one step at a time, I reminded myself as I got off the bike, striding toward her.

Chapter Two

Reflection

(Beth)

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Yeah, Dad, I’m on it! I yelled from the back room of the store. I needed to put out the new arrivals of magazines. Pulling out the bundle from the box, as I unwrapped it, something caught my eye. Staring right at me was none other than—him.

The headline read: 50 of the Sexiest Men in Hollywood. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen Aidan’s incredible face on a magazine, but for some reason, that day thousands of butterflies were in my midsection. Wow! He was definitely something to marvel with those high, sharp cheekbones and perfect, straight nose. In addition to his strong jaw with a sexy dimple in his chin, to go along with the one on the left side of those full, succulent lips. The kind of smile that made a woman melt. I still remembered the feel of his thick, wavy tawny-colored hair that was kissed with blond highlights throughout. Oh, his eyes were utterly hypnotic—blue gray in color, with eyelashes too long and so thick it was a sin they were on a man. Dang, you’re more beautiful now than you were as a boy. No wonder you star in my dreams. I bit my lip hard. It was not a good sign to be talking to a magazine photo.

I supposed no woman ever forgot her first crush, or her first kiss. How many could say, Now, he’s a famous movie star? Ironically, I hadn’t allowed myself to watch one of Aidan’s movies since he began doing romantic dramas, which he started around age eighteen. At no time had I really thought of him as someone famous. To me he was simply Aidan, a friend from my childhood. Okay, it was deeper than that...love of my life, the one that got away. Well, those thoughts were thoroughly depressing. The last thing I needed was stupid tears. I blinked hard to prevent them from falling.

So why hadn’t I seen a romance movie with Aidan in it? I had no desire to see him with another woman intimately. I knew it was staged and there were lots of people on those sets. Yet it was his lips on hers and his hands touching her body. I did not want to see that! Plus, I was not interested in watching him fake emotions which would make him seem less real to me. In my memories he was a sweet, kind, caring, and loving boy. I wanted to believe he hadn’t changed. That he had become a true gentleman, not an arrogant Hollywood heartthrob who preyed upon beautiful women. I really hoped that wasn’t the case.

Running my hand over the cover once more, I couldn’t resist the urge. I opened the magazine to read the article. There was a full page photo of him shirtless. I was hyperventilating as desire sank her claws deep within me. I gave myself a mental shake and a firm, pull it together. I always knew he would be tall. Turned out he was also broad shouldered like his father with a lean, sculpted athletic build. In that photo I could see the dusting of hair on his chest. Yum! And with that slight, scruffy beard...I licked my lips, definitely most sexy!

I began to ponder if he remembered me. Probably not. What would I do if I ran into him and he did? That thought left me feeling lightheaded. Reading more of the article it stated some facts: Aidan Michael Kellum, 28-years-old, birthday June 24, 1982. Stands 6 foot 2 inches and weighs 195 pounds. Single, loves to play piano and guitar. He enjoys reading, playing soccer, snowboarding, and hanging out with friends. At least he had the same interests as he did at thirteen...encouraging.

Beth! Honey, are you still back there?

Coming, Dad. I quickly closed the magazine taking the bundle to the front of the store.

He cocked his right eyebrow at me and quizzically asked, Everything okay? Uh-oh, he must’ve seen the flush on my face.

Sure, I’m fine. Just got a little sidetracked is all, I laughed nervously, wondering if he caught that as well. I quickly turned around to stock the magazine racks. I was ever-so-grateful when a customer walked in and began to visit with him.

I’d been helping out at the family store for almost two years. My parents were kind enough to let me move back home while my divorce finalized. I hadn’t found a reason to leave, so I was still there.

Funny how life never goes the way you planned. I thought I’d marry Aidan. We would have a passel of kids and live down the road in the Stevens’ house. I would be an English teacher and he a firefighter. We’d share the kind of love romance novels were made of. Figuring my parents had that kind of love, and so did my brother, surely it was in my genes as well. Sadly, no. My story didn’t go that way. Aidan left. I thought my heart would never mend. Finally it did. I accepted that a part of me would always love him, but I moved on. To the worst mistake of my life...Brad.

No, I didn’t know that was going to be my story. I thought fate had given me a second chance, and that all I ever dreamed of would come true. Obviously instead of Aidan I had Brad, and no, he was not a firefighter. He was in law school, or at least he was last I heard. When I married, it was forever. Guess no one informed Brad of that. Please do not misunderstand me. Absolutely under no circumstance did I want to still be married to that monster! In hind sight, I should’ve never married him. Hell, I shouldn’t have ever said yes to the first date.

Brad Sullivan, my ex-husband, was a piece of work to put it mildly. He was a spoiled rich kid in every way. He never had to work hard for anything; his daddy made sure of that. Wish I had seen it sooner. But at sixteen did you really see? I didn’t know the answer to that one. I began shaking my head, trying desperately to keep the memories at bay. Great! I sighed heavily, feeling more tears imminent. I really needed outta here!

Looking up to see that our customer was gone, I cleared my throat. Dad, I’m going to go for a walk before heading home. Do you need me to do anything else?

No. I’m good here. You run along, Sweet Girl. Thanks for the help.

Not a problem. See you at dinner. I tried to smile but I doubt I fooled him.

*****

My parents knew that I was at a proverbial crossroads in my life. Restless and knowing that I needed change, but... What was it that I truly wanted? No one could answer this for me. When these painful memories emerged, I knew it made them worry about me. I hated this feeling. The one where everything was about to be forever altered but you had no idea if it would be good or bad. And in the process, would someone you love be hurt?

Hurt, one of those little words that could throw a hellacious punch when you least expected it. I knew I could never tell my family the whole story about Brad. Truth was, I didn’t just tear up inside the store because I still loved him. No, I found the fine line between love and hate a few years back. The tears were for that part of me I lost in my lesson learned. I still felt shameful and guilty from time to time. I was better now. Those feelings no longer ruled me, although, like now, I had my moments. I couldn’t help but ask myself how I fell in love with such a jerk? It still baffled me.

I took a deep cleansing breath and began walking. What a gorgeous day. I started up the hill toward my favorite place in the world, the Stevens’ farm. It was where the old oak tree stood with a tire swing hanging from it. Once I arrived, I climbed into the swing, beginning to fly higher and higher. I felt the air rushing across my face, along with the small thrill I got every time the rope caught and I fell back.

Memories began to assault me once again.

Bradley Franklin Sullivan junior, the son of Judge Bradley F. Sullivan senior and Mrs. Amanda Crawford-Sullivan, a prominent attorney. He was a charming—or so I thought—handsome, young man of average height, five foot ten inches. Not to mention he was a very talented football player with muscles to spare. His ebony hair and ice blue eyes were a contrast one never got used to. He was always polite—only when he wanted something—every parents dream man for their daughter. Mine was no exception to that.

Hi. May I walk you to your next class?

I’ve got it, thanks.

He grabbed my backpack and insisted, Here, let me take that for you.

I raised my eyebrows.

Really, I want to walk with you. He flashed a million-dollar-smile at me.

I couldn’t resist and stammered, Okay?

He introduced himself with a confidence that was unnerving, I’m Brad.

I smiled timidly and replied, Beth.

Well, Beth, now that we’ve officially met. Come to the game Friday night? Afterwards I’ll take you out to eat.

Oh, thanks for the offer but I don’t date. I glanced down at my shoes. His eyes were too intent.

He countered, Then it’s not a date. You’re showing school spirit by attending a football game. Besides, no one wants to eat alone. You’ll simply be keeping me company.

How could I have turned that down? I grinned. Right, game and food. Not a date.

Nope. We stopped in front of my class. He handed me my backpack and softly kissed my cheek. See ya Friday. Smugly, he sauntered away.

I stepped into my class slightly dazed, realizing everyone was staring.

From that day on we were inseparable. As our relationship grew, he never once tried to force me into sex. I remember one time while we were kissing on my front porch swing; he had slipped a hand under my dress. I shook my head and protested, Brad, please. I can’t. I want to, but I’d rather wait.

Ah, my sweet, innocent, Beth. No worries. You’re worth waiting for. Someday you’ll be mine. I heard the apology in his voice. However, something fierce flashed in his eyes at the word mine.

He always knew when to turn on his charm. I had no idea what deviant plans he was making for me. When he’d make a joke at my expense, I would laugh it off and say, He’s only kidding. But somewhere in my subconscious I knew he meant every word.

Looking back, I realized that I had felt privileged to have a guy like Brad interested in me, because that was what everyone told me I should feel.

Brad had picked the college we attended. I spent my freshman year in the girls’ dormitory making friends and having fun. That did not sit well with him. He didn’t want me having my own friends. He knew I was pulling away. To keep me under his thumb, he proposed at Christmas in front of both families. Wedding plans on top of a full class schedule kept me very busy. Eventually, my friends drifted away.

Our first true disagreement came when I picked English for my major. I loved to read so it just made sense to me. Plus, that was the subject I wanted to teach. Brad felt it was a huge waste of time. He never missed a moment to tell me so. According to him, I should study law because I was too smart to waste my degree on something unworthy of the Sullivan name. For some reason I stuck to my guns, although, I never did fulfill my dream of teaching.

Like most abusers he started simple, escalating from there. The verbal and emotional abuse became so bad that I began to pull away from those I loved. I didn’t want to answer for his controlling behavior. Not recognizing that I was losing a piece of me every day.

We were married before our sophomore year on August 10, 2002, which just happened to be my twentieth birthday. This was also the first night he raped me. I had dreams of our first night as husband and wife. I did everything exactly like the books recommended. I wore lingerie that made me feel beautiful. I was more than willing. He turned it into a dreadful nightmare. I thought he’d be tender and understanding while bringing me to my first orgasm. That he’d teach me how to touch him before he took me. No! He tore my pretty gown off and jammed himself inside me, hard. I thought he had split me wide open. I lay there horror-struck, hurt—I bled for days after—and incredibly sad.

Shut up, Beth! It’s not my fault you’re so stupid! Duh! You lost your hymen it’s supposed to hurt!

I nodded, wiping the tears away and whispered, I’ll be better next time.

I never got better according to him.

His harsh words continued, and it wasn’t but a few months later that the hitting began.

He punched me in the stomach. I doubled over holding myself.

You’re worthless, nothing but a cold fish.

I looked up to face his accusation.

Suddenly, he pinched my nipples as hard as he could. I was writhing in anguish and still he didn’t let go.

I keep you because of these incredible tits.

He cocked his head as if he were studying a fly trapped under a glass. It’s not the only reason. I do like the way you squirm and scream. Not half bad for a prude. His demeanor changed. He was leering as I lay shrieking in pain. All he did was laugh menacingly as he mounted me.

I knew I’d have atrocious bruises, not to mention difficulty walking the next day.

That was the way of our sex life. For whatever reason, forcing along with hurting me, excited him. Oh, he made sure no one could ever see my contusions and lacerations. He was quite knowledgeable of location. Plus, he knew I’d never disrobe in front of anyone else. Like a good little girl, I told no one. I accepted that being a Sullivan meant keeping up the appearance of a happy couple. I suffered in silence as so many women do.

Brad liked to drink and he loved to party. I was forced to go even though he knew I hated it. I didn’t drink, and I refused to pollute my body with drugs. Yet I let him tow me around, touch me inappropriately, and be the butt of his jokes. I hoped desperately that it would keep him from harming me, which worked most of the time.

I shivered as a cold chill ran down my spine. The horrifying memory of that night began to surface. It was the night I realized just what kind of bastard Brad truly was.

It was a party like all the others. He was extremely drunk and high on who knows what. I didn’t want to go; however, he made a big deal out of it being our senior year and our last college party. I had a final at eight o’clock the following morning. He didn’t care. Like always, I sat there putting up with his lewd behavior. I excused myself to use the bathroom. When I came back to tell him I was going home, something lascivious and sinister crossed his face.

He roughly yanked me onto his lap, as his friends egged him on. He violated my mouth with his. Then, he pulled the top of my dress down so everyone around saw my breasts. He bit down on my nipple hard enough to draw blood. I remembered screaming, STOP!, but his friends went wild and demanded more. The only cognitive thought I had was, I’m about to be gang raped with my husband leading the pack. As if he read my mind his hand snaked up my leg, ripping my panties off. He threw me on the floor. I knew I had mere seconds before he would mount me. I slapped him with every ounce of strength I had, leaving my handprint on his face. I scrabbled to my feet and ran home as fast as possible. With tears of anger rolling down my cheeks, reality sank in. I knew I had to leave him. I grabbed a bag and started packing. While throwing clothes at an inhuman speed, I dialed my parents’ phone number.

He barged through the door and yanked the phone out of the wall, cursing the entire time. He spun around and in a soft, spine-tingling voice he growled, Now you will pay.

That night he brutalized me nearly to death.

Three days later I awoke in the hospital. He was right there holding my hand and telling me how much he loved me. But there was a warning in his eyes that I’d die if I told the truth. Staff, family, and friends, even a victim’s advocate begged me to come forward, name my attacker, and press charges.

All I told them was, I can’t remember.

The wind picked up blowing my hair. I stopped swinging, trying to bring my tremors under control. Rape. When I used to think of that word, I pictured a scary man hiding in a dark alley waiting for his victim. Sure I had heard of date rape, but not raping your spouse. I couldn’t wrap my brain around such a horrible concept. A husband was supposed to love, honor, cherish, and protect—not do something so vile and heinous. It was inexcusable.

When we got home from the hospital, I did confront him.

Can I get you anything, babe?

I was well past angry. "Don’t ‘babe’ me. You have hurt me for the last time. Do you hear me?! I want a divorce. I’m done being your punching bag. I refuse to ever let you treat me like that again!"

He ran his finger down my cheek and patronized, Ah, so cute when you try to stand up to me. There was a flash of anger in his eyes. No! You. Are. Mine. There will be no divorce.

I heard the possession as well as finality in his voice and spoke matter-of-factly, Fine. We’ll see what you say when I press charges. I stood there defiantly. I was not going to give him another chance to hurt me. I doubt I’d survive a second time.

Now, Beth, be reasonable. I was drunk and high. I have no recollection of ever touching you inappropriately. I barely remember the night at all. There’s no proof. Sure they found my semen inside you; however, I’m your husband so that’s not shocking. He laughed mockingly.

I proclaimed, There are witnesses.

Really? I don’t recall that in the investigation I demanded.

What? My eyes widened in shock. You demanded?

His chuckle was frightening. Of course, darling. Some awful monster harmed my beautiful wife; therefore, I need answers and justice.

I sat down hard on the couch. You’re going to get away with it. Even if I can find evidence, your parents will make it disappear. I shook my head, accepting the truth of it all. I ceded, You win, Brad.

He embraced me and spoke victoriously, That’s my girl.

For awhile he didn’t hurt me. He was actually very sweet and attentive. Never lasted long though, he always went back to his old ways. But he never went on a rampage again. Difference was I stood up to him more and more. He made sure he left no marks. He threatened that if I said anything, he would tell the world I was into rough, kinky sex. So I bided my time. Eventually he screwed up and got one of his girlfriends pregnant. With the public scandal that would cause his family, he had no choice but to grant me my divorce.

Of course, he dragged it out for as long as he possibly could. But that was all water under the bridge, as they say. It took me a long time to realize that I didn’t deserve to be treated so perverse. I couldn’t change the past, but if I could help another woman by sharing my story, then that was exactly what I was going to do. It looked like counseling was finally paying off. I was in control of my life. What a strange sensation. Suddenly, I knew I’d never be the victim