Falling for the Past: A Falling Series Novella

By Elaine Marie

Mariana Tally was your typical high school nerd—short curly hair and poindexter glasses. The exception—she had a huge crush on the bad boy football star along with everyone else, but she knew she had a slim-to-none chance with Chaz…or so she thought until that one special night.When her dream of being with the football star came crashing down, she all but ran to the big city in pursuit of something more and the hope she would forget him. It isn't long until she finds herself in a new relationship. Over time, and with help from her new family and boyfriend, she turns her life around. But it isn't long until her new relationship collapses. After another failed relationship, she decides to better her life and depend on herself for happiness. And she was…until her past catches up with her.Will the football star remember her? Can she avoid falling back with the cheating ex? Will her one big secret finally be revealed? Or can she somehow manage to leave the past where it belongs?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Elaine Marie
• Release date: Apr 30, 2019
• ISBN: 9781096291572

Elaine Marie

A Jersey girl at heart! I love to write, read and spend time with my husband and children. I love to watch Football & Hockey-who wouldn't~ those uniforms!

Book preview

Prologue

THREE AND A HALF YEARS WASTED I think to myself as I wipe the tears from my face. With my right hand, I yank the comforter to the side and throw it off my legs.

Why? Why would he lead me to believe we would be together forever only to turn around and cheat on me?

Because he’s a selfish asshole, that’s why, I say aloud.

After graduation, I followed him here to the big city so he could pursue his dreams. I’ve taken shit ass jobs to help with the rent, and I even put my education and training to be a Physical Therapist on hold.

Matthew was everything to me.

Well, not anymore. Now it’s my time to shine.

Riana you up? Mylie asks through the door.

I clear my throat. Never slept, I call out.

She opens the door and enters with two coffees in hand.

God, I love her. Thanks, I say as she sits beside me on the bed in the guestroom.

He’s going to regret it. You’ll see, She says pushing my shoulder-length curly hair from my face.

His betrayal and my anger breaks a part of me—a part of my soul, I realize as more tears escape.

I close my eyes and relive the scene.

When I glanced through the window at the restaurant, my eyes widened with disbelief. Without thinking, I rushed to the entrance door, and in quick strides, passed the hostess.

Matthew, hun, can’t we go home and to bed? I haven’t seen you all week, and I’m desperate. The words assaulted my ears as I approached the booth nestled in the corner, and my steps fell short.

Janice, I need to eat. After, I’ll take you home, and I promise we won’t come up for air for at least twenty-four hours.

She giggled.

Nausea rose in the back of my throat, but before I realized what I was doing, I raced to the table and grabbed a full glass of red wine. With a quick twist of my wrist, the liquid escaped from the glass and covered Matthew’s face.

He jumped up as his eyes widened when he saw me.

 You mother fucker! I screamed. The entire restaurant came to a halt and their eyes focused on us. You told me you were going to a meeting. You told me you love me. You told me we were going to be married within a year. You told me you wanted kids. I balled my hands into fists at my sides.

The bimbo giggled and reached for her glass with a smile.

Rage overtook me. I pulled my arm back and punched Matthew instead of the skinny little bitch who sat in the booth.

He stumbled back from the unexpected hit. The only thing that kept me from hitting him again was I’m not a violent person…but my patience teetered.

I directed my attention to the tramp and asked, How do I taste?"

She looked confused and placed her wine glass down.

Did he kiss you when he finally showed up here tonight?

She nods.

Just so you know, he ate my pussy, and he then came here and slid his tongue in your mouth. So, I’ll ask you again. How do I taste?

Her eyes nearly popped out of her head as I turned my back and stomped out the door.

I suppose calling her a bimbo and tramp is a little assuming as I’m not sure if she is either. But if she’s sucking face with my man, I can call her whatever the fuck I want. I imagine she thinks she’s all that with her silk-blonde hair and perfect makeup. Granted, her dress fit perfect, and she was well groomed. But still—he was mine!

I stifle a sob. The word caught my attention. Was…

How did I not know? I shake my head with disappointment. I mean; I know we’ve been distant with each other lately, but I thought he was my forever, you know? I sniffle and sigh before I wipe the final tears away, suddenly at peace.

I won’t let him drag me down anymore. Everything I’ve done in the last three years was for him, and I realize it’s time I start thinking of me. I push my shoulders back, and make myself a promise. I won’t allow him to drag me down anymore.

Fuck him! I deserve better than him.

Mylie stands and places her coffee cup on the nightstand. You’re damn right you do! she says, turning to the closet and grabbing something. Get dressed and let’s go, she says throwing a pair of leggings and a Ginny-T in my direction.

I know with her support I’ll be just fine. It may take a little time, but I’ve got this.

Confidence builds inside me as I grab the clothes and walk to the bathroom to dress. Once inside, I glance in the mirror as I turn the water on. I run my fingers through the stream and hope the water will wash away the worry, sorrow, and anger I see reflecting back at me.

I nod to myself and smile. Yes, it’s time I take care of me, I say aloud.

Chapter One

Two years later…

MY EARLY MORNING ROUTINE is about to change. A new gym opened around the corner from my apartment, and for my New Year’s resolution, I decided to join.

Mylie likes to sleep in, and with her crazy work schedule, I can’t blame her. She’s the hostess with the mostest! Well, that’s what I call her. In actuality, she’s a party planner and host at a local five-star hotel. She’s in charge of the high-end parties, and because of this, her hours always fluctuate. However, it isn’t without its perks.

Despite being from a wealthy family, although you’d never know it based on how she acts or treats others. No, Mylie isn’t a stuck-up rich bitch. She’s stylish and classy, but she can be a little bit of a bad ass when she needs to be. Luckily for me, she’s my best friend, and she’s always been by my side no matter what I’m going through.

However, since I graduated and started working fulltime as a physical therapist, we haven’t spent much time together. We call and text often, and we get together whenever we can. But most of my free time is spent with my daughter. Thankfully, I have help from her parents, too.

The Marshall’s are amazing with Raschel. They treat her as if she was their own granddaughter. For that I am grateful. They even kidnap her once a month for an entire weekend. Now that she’s older, she enjoys the pool, game room and activities.

As for dating, let’s just say its nonexistent. After Matthew, I sheltered myself and concentrated on Raschel and getting my degree. Afterward, I started the internship at the hospital, and I’ve been there ever since.

My phone chimes with a reminder. I glance down at the screen. The fundraiser is in a month. I need to find a dress—a cute little black cocktail dress would be perfect to get back out on the dating scene.

I flip my phone over to verify my license and debit card are secured inside. I tie my sneakers tight and inspect myself in the mirror. Black sports bra with a white tank top and black spandex pants. At least I look good. It’s definitely a contrast to how I feel. It’s been way too long since I’ve dated, and now that the holidays have passed, it’s time to get out there again. I want to be confident, bold, open and honest. I just wonder if there is anyone out there who can handle it.

Satisfied, I make my way outside and start toward the gym. Within five minutes, I pull open the glass pane door to the Gym. The florescent lights shine bright throughout the open floor plan area. To the left are the treadmills, step climbers and bicycles. A reception area is in the center, and I head in that direction, noticing a few patrons.

When I reach the desk, I’m greeted by a sculpted woman who is maybe twenty-five years old. She