Some Die Just To Live

By Jennifer Gulbrandsen

What if death wasn't an end, but a beginning?

Sydney's life hangs in the balance after an accident she causes in the throes of a downward spiral. She is greeted in the first phase of her afterlife by her spirit guide, Eres, who is also connected to Sydney's destiny in ways they will both uncover along the way during their journey.

Sydney is given the choice to travel through her past, changing her present and future, but not without its consequences. For every action Sydney takes, there will be an equal and opposite reaction to her future, and those she's connected with through destiny.

Sydney will not only have to choose whether to live or die, but whether she can leave behind and let go of the things she always wanted and never knew she had.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jennifer Gulbrandsen
• Release date: Nov 12, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463058190

Jennifer Gulbrandsen

I need to think of a clever bio beyond telling the world I love to write, I have three kids, and I drink a lot of wine.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

My name is Sydney Daniels.

I died on a Tuesday.

We’ve all had those moments when we sit and reflect on how it’s going to be when we die. Most of the time, we’re imagining ourselves as an elderly person getting ready to go off into that gentle goodnight with generations of our offspring holding our hands as we drift into a calming white light to meet a spouse or other loved ones who have preceded us in death. Other times, we have nightmares of intruders, murder, and other horrific ways of meeting our demise. We may even fantasize about suicide during those excruciating moments of pain in our lives when we feel we simply can’t make it in this world another second.

We never ever think of dying in the most mundane, everyday kind of way. I didn’t go out in a blaze of glory, die of some tragic illness, or of old age. I died because I self-destructed.

Not something you contemplate when you think about death, perhaps, because it lacks the romance or drama we train ourselves to believe. But that’s exactly what happened; I died a careless wino indulging in a night of glorious and spectacular self pity.

I then learned that sometimes you have to die just to live.

This is my story.

The moment everything becomes crystal clear in your own reality, you experience a rage so white-hot the sensation of blood leaving your body and a humming in your brain is the only thing you feel. You don’t even take a breath to rationalize what is happening, or admonish yourself as the handwriting on the wall becomes so evident; it’s a virtual neon sign of every red flag you shouldn’t have missed.

For me, this happened in a room full of about two-hundred people at one of the largest conferences our company hosts every year. I, as the Director of Operations for Southwest Dynamics, was responsible for giving the welcome and introduction to the crowd, and then introducing my boyfriend, Scott Thompson, our illustrious Vice President of Sales.

Except, I was approaching the podium looking out into the crowd, when I saw him. Scott, the man I had just made love to in my hotel room not an hour beforehand where we exchanged sincere I love yous, planned our future once his divorce was final, because you know… it’s never actually a good time to pull the trigger, Sydney. The kids. Think of the kids. Just be patient. It’s only a little while longer. Yes, Denise will be here tonight, but it’s just for show. She’s horrible, Sydney, I can barely stand her, but we have to keep up appearances. Being around her makes me so grateful to have you. Someone who cares. She’s just so distant and frigid…I haven’t changed, she has…

This conversation only an hour old, and fresh in my mind, played in my head as I gazed into the crowd before beginning my speech and saw Scott nuzzling a very cuddly and hardly frigid looking Denise. This was the first time I had ever laid eyes on her, though I had seen her picture on Scott’s desk everyday over the last two years. The smiling, bubbly-looking, All-American blonde beaming back to the world with her two little boys behind the glass of a picture frame. The woman making a family miserable, was right there before my eyes, gazing adoringly at her husband, looking like a proud and supportive wife. And Scott looked anything but long suffering and miserable.

The realization was jarring. It was all bullshit. The last two years of my life had been bullshit. The yo-yo between hope, loneliness, and pain that the man I loved and was building a life with could never be with me. I had to numb it with enough alcohol to put down a rhino when my suffering outweighed the good. I lived for the workweek when I would slip into his office and shut the door, and I’d listen to him complain about his life at home for hours, or succumb to our attraction.

Those lonely nights I spent alone in my house while Scott was home with his family, I would drink and tell myself that I wasn’t just the other woman. I am not a home wrecker. You can’t wreck a happy home. You can’t steal a man that doesn’t want to be stolen. I wasn’t a mistress, he said he loved me every single day.

The justifications were the drop of water at the bottom of a dry well I kept myself alive with. But as I stood there about to take that podium, with these two enemies before me who were behaving like a happily married couple… the justifications gave way to truths.

We had never shared a meal other than lunch together.

I had never spent time with him after 6pm.

We never spent the night together.

I was a mistress.

He would never leave her.

I was being played for a fool this whole time. Scott wasn’t the sainted victim who needed saving I had built him up to be. Scott was a lying, cheating, self-serving sonofabitch, and I was done with this charade. He had a brunette by day and a blonde by night, while I saved his career.

Pig.

Done.

The rage coursing through my veins was so hot, it was like I was having an out of body experience. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do. My inner dialogue was coaching me to get through my little welcome and introduction, introduce Scott, run to my car, go home and spend as many days drunk and hiding as possible before I had to face this stunning new reality.

I smiled to the crowd, stepped up to the podium, took a deep breath, and began:

Good afternoon everyone, I am Sydney Daniels, the Director of Operations here at Southwest Dynamics. I want to welcome you all, and thank you for coming to this year’s conference. It is wonderful to meet and share ideas with leaders of the industry, ok, so far so good. Exactly as rehearsed, on script, and nobody knows I can’t feel my physical body.

Before we begin this afternoon’s breakout sessions, I’d like to introduce our Vice President of Sales, the man I’ve been having an affair with for the last two years, and after seeing him with his wife over there, I realize that I have been an idiot, and I’m sorry if this embarrasses you, Denise, but you should really divorce him and take him to the cleaners because he is not a good man.

The audible gasp in the room jolted me back to reality, and the first person I made eye-contact with was Adam, the general counsel for our company. Adam was the closest thing I had to a friend in this world, and while I always wondered why he was always buzzing around me like a fly, at least that would end as he saw me burn myself, the man I supposedly loved, and my career to the ground. Most people don’t want to be friends with an insane person prone to public displays of said insanity.

We locked eyes, and as the air left the room, because no one knew what to say, I could see Adam making his way through the sea of stunned onlookers to me standing and gripping the podium for dear life as I began to tremble and feared my knees buckling out from underneath me.

Adam reached me just as I felt my ability to stand on my own give way. Quickly, I felt an arm around my waist steadying me.

Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen, I am Adam Miller, the general counsel here at Southwest Dynamics. Why don’t we just go ahead and grab some refreshments and head to our breakout sessions. You guys don’t want to listen to a bunch of speeches, anyway. Thank you. He kept a firm hold of me as he whisked me off the stage and into the hallway as the crowd began to buzz. The second we reached the safety of the backstage hallway, my right mind returned, and I burst into tears.

Adam immediately took me into his arms and smoothed the top of my head as I imprinted rivers of eyeliner and mascara on his white Brooks Brothers shirt. He smelled like Ivory soap, starched cotton, and deodorant.

Shhhh, you’re fine, you’re fine, he said gently, still patting me on the head, On the bright side? We don’t even need a marketing department anymore, because you made sure no one will ever forget Southwest Dynamics.

Fuuuuuuuuuuck! I wailed into his shirt and sobbed harder.

Shhhh, you know what Andy Warhol said, ‘there’s no such thing as bad press’ or something, sounds right, but look, he said peeling me off his chest and looking into my eyes, We all have a breaking point. Breaking points aren’t pretty. Welcome to the human race. I’m glad to see you’re really not a robot.

I’m fired, aren’t I?

I don’t think so, he answered, There’s a lot of things to unpack before that happens. What you need to do now is go home, get in the fetal position, order enough takeout for fifteen people, and cry this out. Get drunk, howl at the sky, and use every sick and vacation day you’ve accrued not taking a sick or vacation day in two years. When that’s done, you’ll be able to think, and we can make a plan. Come on, he said putting his arm around me and walking me toward the exit, Let’s grab your stuff and get you home.

As we were walking, we heard a loud slamming noise behind us.

What. The. Fuck. Sydney?! Scott came barrelling down the hallway towards Adam and I, his own rage palpable, What the fuck were you thinking? Have you lost your fucking mind? Jesus Christ! Do you have any idea what this does to me, my family, my career? God damnit, Sydney! How can you be so reckless with my life! he shouted.

Adam got between us to stop him in his tracks before he got to me. Scott looked like a madman unhinged. His cobalt blue eyes wild with rage, shoulders postured like he was ready to punch anyone, anything, probably me, and a primal tone to his voice that didn’t reflect pain, only fear.

Whoa, Scott, you need to calm down, turn around, and go out there, and I don’t know, comfort your wife, maybe? Adam moved toward Scott, putting his hand out toward his chest, not touching Scott, but letting him know it was a possibility, and it was enough to make him start walking backwards toward the ballroom.

Not until I talk to Sydney! he yelled looking at me over Adam’s head. He was much bigger than Adam, but Adam wasn’t backing down.

"No, Scott, you will not. Sydney also