Being Me

By J. A Melville

Ben

For over a decade I'd been living a lie

They say the truth will set you free

They lied…

The TRUTH resulted in my wife's death

Now I am free from my lie

But I'd never be free of my guilt

Until I met HIM

Suddenly crunching numbers had lost their appeal

He counted more…

More than I realised

He makes me feel alive

But I'm scared too….

Cam

I didn't believe in love

I'd spent my life avoiding relationships

NOT for me

There was no such thing as: The One…

He was only meant to balance my books

Not rock my world

For the first time I wanted more

With HIM

I was in charge, in control always

I felt needy, yet alive

More alive than ever before

That was a first…

• Language: English
• Publisher: J. A Melville
• Release date: Jun 1, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393964391

Book preview

Acknowledgements

Iwant to thank all those ladies who have kindly supported me from the very first book I wrote, through to this one. Friends, authors, bloggers, too many of you to list.

I want to thank my kids for putting up with me being somewhat vague and distant at times.

I want to give a big, big thank you to Karen who is my lifesaver.  You are my editor, proof reader, finder of mistakes, both plot holes and things that make you go hmmm. I call you my reader guru or reader extraordinaire. Thank you so much for being with me every step, every word and every moment of this. Thank you for believing in me.

Thank you to all the wonderful bloggers who helped me and especially Tracy. You know how hopeless I am without you.

Thank you to anyone and everyone who ever took a chance on me and read one of my books. Each and every one of you is appreciated, more than you will ever know.

About the Author

From my teenage years , all I wanted to do was become a writer one day. Even now as an adult woman with three children who are not so little anymore, I've always lived with my head in the clouds, a dreamer, often amusing myself with my own imagination.

I live in Tasmania, Australia with my three children and two kitties I raised that were born to a feral cat.

I love reading romance and writing it too. I’m a sucker for a damaged male who just needs a good woman to fix him. Or the arrogant billionaire who needs a feisty woman to slap him silly. My books touch on subjects that many of us can relate to. From serious, to laugh out loud comedies, and even some stories that bite. I'm talking sexy vampires of course.

I love that buildup of sexual tension and those scenes that will set the pages on fire. I’m just a sucker for a good romance.

J. A Melville.

© Copyright J. A Melville. June 2019.

This novella was previously part of the Love Is Love Anthology.

Do the right thing, don’t download pirated books. Authors deserve to get paid for their hard work as much as anyone else.

No parts of this book can be copied unless permission is given by the author for quotes to be used for reviews etc.

This book is fiction. The characters are fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead are purely coincidental.

This book is the work of the writer's imagination.

Cover image designed by Designed With Grace.

Prologue

Ben

The sun had shifted low in the sky; to the point where the shadows of the few trees behind me, were long across the ground as I stood, staring at the deep rectangular hole before me.

The rose that I’d been absently twirling in my fingers like a baton, pricked me with one particularly nasty thorn. I dropped it, sucking at the small spot of blood. Watching the dark red bloom fall. As if in slow motion. Bouncing once. Twice. Before settling on the dark red wood of the coffin’s lid. Two crushed petals breaking free. Lying beside the fallen rose, looking almost like velvet tears.

A wave of guilt pierced me, spreading through my body like shards of glass. Tearing at me. Overwhelming me, as I stared at the shining timber. Shining, even through the scattering of dirt that had been thrown into the grave.

More guilt consumed me. Weighing me down like a blanket of lead. Turning my body ice cold. Cold like the woman who lay inside. Dead, because of me. Dead, because I’d lied to her. To her family. To my family for years. But, most of all, I’d lied to myself. I hadn’t been true to me.

Julia’s broken body lay in that coffin, our unborn child in her belly, because I’d waited ten years. Ten fucking years to tell her the truth. A woman, whose emotional stability was fragile. Had been fragile since the death of our son nearly ten years ago.

Fragile after two miscarriages. Fragile, because depression had sucked all life from her, and left me with a shell of the young woman she’d been, when we first met at 16 years of age.

Fragile enough that she couldn’t handle the truth I waited ten years to tell her, and fragile enough that she hopped in her car and drove it off a cliff, taking her own life, and the life of our unborn child with her.

My family were in shock. Not just over Julia’s death, but at my revelation. Julia’s family hated me. That’s why, I hadn’t attended her funeral. They’d demanded I stay away, and under the circumstances I felt it best to do as they’d asked. I’d caused them enough heartache. I didn’t want to rub salt in the wound by being in their presence as they said goodbye to their child.

But they were gone. The funeral was over. I’d hidden. Out of sight, watching. Seeing their pain and devastation over the loss of their daughter, and the grandchild they were denied, again. The grandchild they would never get now, since Julia had been their only child.

Now was my time. Time to beg for her forgiveness. Time to say goodbye. Time to shed tears for the woman who’d asked for so little from me.

She’d wanted my love and a family. I’d tried on both scores. I’d loved her. I’d loved her deeply, just not the way she’d wanted or needed.

I’d tried to give her a family, but fate had denied us over and over. First our son, stillborn, and then two miscarriages. The damage done to Julia’s state of mind had been incurable. No amount of medication or sessions with her psychiatrist could bring back the happy, carefree woman I’d once known.

My news. My revelation had been that final nail in the coffin and three days later, she was dead. It was my fault. I couldn’t deny it. Confessing to her that I’d been denying my sexuality all these years. That I’d been living a lie. Telling her, that I’d been hiding the fact I was gay, was enough to fracture the last of her control. I broke her. That last little piece of her that remained. I broke it. Snapped it. Crushed it with the power of my words. Words she was nowhere near strong enough to hear.

Seeing her expression. The shock. The devastation. The horror, and finally the blank emptiness in her eyes, should have been enough to warn me. If I’d recognised what it meant, I might have been able to save her.

None of that mattered now though. I could run every possible scenario through my head. What I could have done differently. What I should have said. What I shouldn’t have said. It was too late to change things. The damage was done. The proof lying cold and lifeless in the coffin sitting in the bottom of the hole before me. Nothing could change the fact that I’d killed my wife and unborn child, as surely as if I’d been the one behind the wheel.

Chapter One

Two Years Later

I pushed the remaining piece of steak around on my plate, and even with my attention fixed firmly on it, I could still feel the eyes of my friends on me. I didn’t lift my head though. I couldn’t. Not yet. Not until I’d figured out exactly how I was going to break the news to them.

Are you going to eat that? Or, are you poking at it to try and get it back on its feet? Because I’ll break it to you gently, it’s dead. You’re not bringing that beast back, no matter how much you flick it around on your plate.

I lifted my head to meet the amused eyes of Drew and his wife Angie. I’d been friends with them for close on 14 years. Both Julia and I had been. Although, the last couple of years before my wife’s death, we’d not seen as much of them as we once had.

Don’t give up your day job. I said, my tone dry. I’m just not hungry. This is not some feeble attempt to revive the animal. I waved my fork at him.

So, what’s wrong Ben? Angie’s voice was soft as she asked the question. I can tell something’s bothering you. I know, you’ve struggled since Julia’s death.

Her words sent the familiar stabbing guilt through me, and my stomach tightened. It was two years since my wife had died and I might as well have died with her. I’d done nothing with my life since her death. Other than work and sleep, and plague myself with memories of that night I’d told her I was gay and wanted a divorce.

I asked you two to dinner for a reason. I began. I need to be honest with you, even if you both hate me after I tell you. My words made my friends sit up straighter in their chairs.

It can’t be that bad mate. Just spit it out Ben. Drew’s former humour was gone. His expression serious now as he met my eyes.

A few days before Julia drove her car off that cliff, I asked her for a divorce. I spat the words out quickly. Forcefully. As if expelling them rapidly would somehow exorcise some of my guilt.

Shit. Drew’s response was a single word. Nothing more.

Angie’s hand settled on mine that rested on the table, and I jumped, my eyes flying to hers, seeing the hazel brown of them, softened with compassion.

I know how hard it was for you Ben. Julia was... She trailed off, searching for her next words, before continuing. Troubled. She had been for years. She never really recovered after the death of your son. Again, that compassionate smile flashed across the table, and she squeezed my hand. But then, Julia was always... Another pause. "Emotional. She’d had ‘issues’ longer than you knew her. Her parents had her seeing a psychiatrist when she was in her early teens. Did she ever tell you that? Did they ever tell you that?"

My heart jolted at her words. I’d had no idea. Julia hadn’t said anything and neither had her parents. She’d been bright and bubbly when I’d first met her.

A little hyperactive at times, but nothing in her demeanor told me she had anything serious going on emotionally. Not until her desire to become a mother was crushed time and time again.

I had no idea. I whispered. She always seemed so happy. It all started going to shit when she had to give birth to our dead son. My voice cracked slightly, and I cleared my throat. She had to deal with so much, trying to be a mother.

You tried to do everything for her Ben. You can’t blame yourself for wanting a divorce. Julia was...going to crack one day. It was only a matter of time.

It’s not that simple. I murmured. She didn’t die just because I asked her for a divorce. It was my reason that sent her over the edge. That’s why she’s dead. Because of what I told her. I raised tortured eyes to my friends.

I have to tell you my secret though. As hard as this is, given I’ve been in denial for so damn long. I sucked in a deep breath before straightening in my chair. The reason I asked Julia for a divorce was because I’ve been hiding my sexuality for years. I sighed heavily. "I’m gay. I left the words hanging in the air.

Silence was the only thing that greeted