Desire

By Mia Ford

My family hates her. Her family hates me right back.

Flora and I don't need their approval.

I love her, and I'm not letting go. No matter what.

Gold digger. Charlatan. Fraud.

Those are the words my family likes to fling around about my wife.

It's been ten years, and they still think she's after my money.

But they're wrong. 

Strong. Fearless. Beautiful. 

Those are the words I'd use to describe Flora. 

She came from nothing, and she made her life as big as her dreams.

But sometimes I wonder if her dreams are too big.

She's got all the time in the world for her job, but not so much for me. 

And even less time for making a baby and raising a family.

The further ahead she gets, the more it feels like she's leaving me behind.

But I won't let her go. If she runs, I'll follow.

I'll prove both our families wrong, and show them that our love is meant to last.

Flora's mine, even if she doesn't always know it.

Can I stop Flora from running away, or will she finally decide her dreams are more important than our marriage?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mia Ford
• Release date: Dec 7, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393699941

Book preview

Chapter 1: Flora

Ihad finally made it. It had taken me years of preparation, hard work, and a strict regimen of saving my funds and ensuring I had exactly what it took to be accepted. Still, I was already under a mountain of student loans and every time I spoke to them, my parents reminded me that they believed this was a stupid endeavor.

Yet, it didn’t matter. I had done exactly what I had told everyone I was going to do, and I hadn’t given a damn what anyone said. I had successfully ignored the doubt and the expectation of failure that loomed in the one-horse, honky-tonk town where I grew up, like a thick summer haze.

It had seemed that everyone who lived by my parents either had failed in their life, or were well on their way to failure, before they even had a chance. It was expected.

Those who left, were back within a year and those that decided to stay for one more year, ended up being buried in the family plot without that elusive year ever being up. For decades, people had made the excuse that they were almost ready, that they were going to follow their dreams and leave this town. Some aspired to goals that were similar to mine. Some, simply wished to get the hell out of the town and didn’t care where they ended up, so long as it wasn’t down the street from their momma and daddy.

However, I had a plan. From an early age, I knew that no matter what, I was going to make it work and now, I had made it to college. I was living in a dorm, in a whole other state, able to pursue my life the way I wanted to.  I was finally free to be the person I had always known I could be.

Now, the semester was already over and I had settled nicely into my new life. I worked hard from the moment I stepped foot into my first class and I had excelled. In fact, I was currently at the top of my class and I couldn’t be more proud of myself.

With every class I attended and every paper I wrote, I knew I was one step closer to getting my MBA. After school, I didn’t have much of a plan. I was too worried about the present. I had worked too hard to get distracted with what could be. I needed to focus on the present time, because this experience had taught me that if I didn’t focus on it and continue to encourage myself, no one was going to do it for me.

Even my parents, who would tell anyone that they were supportive of my decisions, didn’t care in the least for the way I had progressed. They thought I was wasting my time and money; as though it was theirs to spend. Every time I spoke to them, they made it abundantly clear that I was wasting their time. They thought that I should marry in the town, never get anywhere in life and allow one of those dimwits to provide for me.

While they didn’t say it quite that way, that was exactly how I felt and therefore, every time they hinted toward their wishes, I had to keep from bursting out laughing.

Nope, I was doing this all myself, for myself and I couldn’t have been happier about it.

I had told myself a long time ago that even if I did find a husband who was able to properly provide for me, I wasn’t going to let him. I wanted to take care of myself, since there are no guarantees in life.

My parents were the best example of that. While I still think they love me, they only liked me until they realized that I had no interest in maintaining the family modus operandi of a sub-par existence. I never went hungry, but it was always a struggle and I couldn’t help but think if my family hadn’t settled for living like my grandparents had, in a changing time, they could’ve done better. They should’ve done better.

When they realized that I was nothing like them and their guilt wasn’t enough to make me stay, they decided that they simply were no longer interested in what I wanted to do in my life. Most parents want their children to do better but for some reason, my parents wanted to stick me in the same rut they were milled into and squander all the potential I realized I had.

When my momma and daddy made their own intentions clear, however, I was hurt, but it taught me a valuable lesson. I was never going to expect anyone else to understand why I wanted to do something. I was only going to expect people to respect what I was doing and why I was doing it.  I wasn’t going to rely on anyone.

After all, if I couldn’t rely on my own mother and father, how was I ever supposed to truly rely on a man?

However, none of that mattered now. I had another three and a half years left to focus on school and after that, my priorities would shift to my career. That didn’t leave much time for a social life and I certainly wasn’t going to waste it gambling on love or obsessing over emotion.

My roommate on the other hand, thought of school as one big party.

Come on! Riley groaned, sitting on the couch next to me, Finals are over, Flora. There is absolutely no reason you can’t go out and celebrate.

I narrowed my eyes at her, contemplating what she was asking me to do.

Celebrating doesn’t always involve booze, I answered, though I knew she was likely going to talk me into going with her to this one.

It does if you’re an adult... She retorted, returning my glower, And last time I checked, you’re an adult, am I right?

Of course, I am, I snapped, It’s just not as much fun for me to go get wasted as it is for you.

Come on! I swear! It’ll be fun and besides, you might even get laid, she grinned.

Now, that’s a reason I definitely shouldn’t be going, I replied with a smirk, I do not need that kind of drama in my life.

What drama? Riley insisted, Make sure you wear protection; he has fun, you have fun, if you’re drunk enough, neither of you will even remember your names in the morning. It’s a win, win! No strings attached.

You really believe that? I asked, in a serious tone.

Realizing that I was no longer joking with her, Riley sighed, Look, you’re in college now, not your stupid small town, where there are eyes peering around every corner. People here don’t care who sleeps with who, unless they’re directly involved in the situation...and even then, sometimes it’s a mutual agreement, but don’t worry about that...

Her smirk told me she was trying to induce a little bit of humor, but I didn’t react to it.

After a pause, she added, While I understand your struggle and I get that you don’t want to screw anything up, you’ve got to live a little, or you’ll regret it. If you’re going to do something reckless, it’s much better to do it now, without having to worry about school. You did great. You deserve a break.

Even though I didn’t try to encourage her, I was certain she had already won; though I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of telling her that. So, I simply shook my head.

Knowing that she had won this argument, she laughed.

I promise you, Flora, we’re going to have a great time!

I rolled my eyes, knowing for sure now that I was overruled.

So, when the time came, I got dressed, with Riley’s unwavering guidance; which consisted of her picking clothes out of her closet and insisting that I wear them.

You can’t go to the party looking like a librarian, she teased as she pulled out a skimpy skirt with a black and red checkered pattern and black ruffles hanging down, slightly below the seam. When she looked at me, she was grinning widely, Unless, of course, you look like this.

By the end of the Riley makeover session, I couldn’t deny that I looked hot. My dark hair was tied up in the back with a black newsboy cap, turned slightly to the side, a crimson tank top, with a sheer black sweater that tied in the front.

I wore my own boots, which matched the punk rock theme and matched my makeup.

However, it wasn’t until after I was finished that I admitted to myself that I had enjoyed the girly-type experience. It was fun and, as Riley had repeatedly drilled into my head, long overdue.

It wasn’t that I was a prude or didn’t enjoy having fun, I was just so afraid of messing up my life, I didn’t want to afford myself any temptation.

However, tonight, felt good.

There’s something almost magical about when every strand of hair falls right into place and every accessory to your outfit is right on point. It makes a woman feel amazing and that was exactly how I was feeling now.

By the time the two of us were staring in the mirror, making the final preparations, I was happy that Riley had forced me to do this. After all, spending another night alone, while she went out and had fun, especially when I didn’t have schoolwork to keep me busy.

Tonight, I was in a mood where I wanted to be normal. It didn’t happen often nowadays, with as focused as I was, but that was what I loved about Riley. She made me come out of my comfort zone and gave me a begrudging excuse to do the things I wanted to do all along.

When I had school, she respected that I wanted to do well, and I respected that she could not even open a book and still average the same grade as I did. Although, I couldn’t say I didn’t wish I had the same ability.

Nevertheless, as opposite as we were, Riley and I were best friends and there was no one else on this campus I would rather room with.

So, where is this party? I asked as we were strutting off campus, looking great and feeling the same.

It’s at a frat house...Not too far, she promised. Remember where we went for Halloween?

I nodded, beaming at the fond memory, That was a fun night.

Yes, it was, she replied, undoubtedly thinking about the after party, at which, she wouldn’t stop talking about her amazingly erotic night.

I had a good time too that night. I had a few too many and I don’t remember a whole lot but what I do remember was awesome.

I hadn’t found my knight in shining armor there, but I had discovered my love of gin, which I was looking forward to rekindling tonight, even though I would never admit it.

I wonder if my dream man is going to be there, Riley mused with an almost wicked smile. She had to call him that, or something along those lines, because she and the man had never bothered to even exchange names.

I thought this was extremely weird and even Riley agreed, but claimed that there was such an immediate, physical connection between the two of them that nothing else mattered.

I just wanted to see him naked, she had admitted, We both knew this wasn’t anything more than a sexual satisfaction, so names might have actually ruined it.

However, trying to figure out how to respond to her now, I wondered if she wished she had gotten his name.

At this point, the bus arrived, and we got on.

If not him, I’m sure they’ll be someone, I mused in a teasing tone.

Wow, you say it that way, you make me sound like a hoe, she insisted, playfully narrowing her eyes at me.

No, I chuckled, You’re just...what is that called? Free spirited?

It’s called enjoying your life and rolling with the punches...

Or the booze and one-night stands, as it were, I retorted, gaining me a slightly less humored expression.

So, you going home for the break?

I have to. I’m just waiting it out as long as possible. Being berated for the extent of the time that I’m there isn’t exactly my idea of fun.

Your parents are whacked, she replied, I could see if I were you...I mean, I love my lifestyle of barely making it by, but you actually work for your grades...and your living. If my parents didn’t have to pay for my school, I wouldn’t go.

Yeah, I know.

She grinned, I’d still come bust your ass out to have a little fun, though...and I might even crash at your place, so life wouldn’t change too much.

Thanks, I chuckled, I’m so glad that our friendship is a higher priority in your life than school. The sarcasm in my voice was obvious, but when Riley answered, I could tell she wasn’t kidding.

Of course, it is. But I wouldn’t take it to heart. There are many things that are more important to me than school.

And yet, you continue to do well, I mused, Imagine what you could do if you actually tried. You could be valedictorian.

Riley made a disgusted face. Which, in the real world, doesn’t mean anything. Experience is what really helps people out in life and I’m always up for a new and exciting experience. I mean, think about it, when you’re out of school, you go to a bar...Everyone is on the same page, due to loss of inhibitions and so they’re more apt to talk to you. You get a few numbers, actually ask for some names and use that to broaden your networking. Plus, you got to have fun...Adulting, exposed. I win.

I laughed, Wait, let me get this straight, you’re going to go to bars, make friends with people and then stalk them on social media, for the sole purpose of finding someone you can professionally connect with?

Nobody says no if you tell them you met them at a bar...I mean, people find their spouses at a bar, why not find job leads?

I couldn’t exactly argue with her, though I still thought something was amiss with her idea. However, I didn’t press further, instead, I asked, Okay, so what do you call what we’re doing here? Everyone’s a college student. Nobody has any real connections yet...

Practice, she beamed as the bus pulled up at our spot.

We got off the bus and I vaguely remembered the neighborhood where we were dropped off. Granted, I only saw it while we were on our way to the house, because after me and my friend gin met up, there wasn’t much left of my memory from that night.

What do you think about living around here when we finally want to get out on our own? You know, ditch the dorms, Riley asked, looking around at the neighborhood as well.

I think this would be extremely dangerous for both of us, if this frat house is still here. I answered honestly.

You call it danger, I call it saving money on a bus fare, she responded, her shoulders rising and lowering nonchalantly as she spoke.

I just shook my head again, knowing that the time when that decision would need to be made, if we ever did make that decision in the first place, was a long time off.

Even before we got to the party, we could hear those who were already in attendance yelling and screaming, enjoying the freedom that came with the end of the semester.

The house was huge, with a Victorian feel that would be gorgeous if the men who lived here took any pride in the home’s potential.

It wasn’t as though they were particularly dirty, especially for a frat house. The lawn was mowed and inside, besides the mountains of beer and piles of pizza boxes the house was clean.

Of course, it was a frat house, so the stench of alcohol and order-in food was fused with the walls but even in my limited tour of the American frat house, there were some that were much, much worse.

It was early but there was already a mass of people, especially hovering around the alcohol and close to the music.

I didn’t recognize anyone who was there but there were plenty of people, both men and women who stopped what they were doing to give Riley a hug and to welcome her.

It’s like being with the mayor...I thought, Hey, Riley, if you know all these people, why the hell do you insist on hanging out with my lame, sweater-wearing ass?

Because you’re my best friend, she replied simply, And I love your lame, sweater-wearing ass.

With that, she forged ahead in pursuit of the drink table. I almost immediately lost her in the thick herd of bodies all pressing forward for their own taste of free, liquid excitement.

A few moments later, Riley emerged from the crowd, carrying a handful of shots, my gin and a solo cup of beer. She held out her hands and motioned for me to take my drink, as we both headed toward an empty seat at the kitchen island where we were able to unload.

I blinked, staring pointedly at the amount of alcohol she had managed to hoard in such a short period of time.

What? When your there, you want to take as much as you can, so you’re drunk by the time you go back.

Realizing how much of a pain it must be to actually get to the drinks, especially when it’s everyone’s first or second, I couldn’t help but agree that she likely had a point. I sipped my gin, happy to feel the burn in the back of my throat.

It wasn’t a particularly familiar feeling, but that certainly didn’t mean I enjoyed it any less.

Here, Riley urged, pressing a shot into my hand, Trust me, she insisted when I looked wearily at the shot, then back to my drink of choice, After this, your drink will only taste better. She laughed, Hell, after a few of these, everything will be better.

Sighing and trying to avoid the urge to tell her that nothing was wrong to begin with, I put my drink down on the counter and raised the tiny shot glass.

Usually, I enjoyed my gin and other liquor on the rocks, but I also wasn’t against having a shot with Riley.

To having some fun! Riley toasted as we tapped our cups together before throwing our heads back and downing the drinks.

An explosion of cinnamon and fire exploded in my mouth. Whisky was Riley’s drink of choice. She would usually have a few to get her night going.

I wasn’t generally a fan of any other liquor besides gin, but since it was a tradition of hers, I figured I should take part.

After all, I was intending to get drunk anyway, so I might as well have fun doing it.

Riley laughed at the face I made and handed me another.

No, thanks...Really... I answered, but Riley insisted.

Come on! You’re telling me that you can drink all that, but you can’t handle two teeny shots?

I actually like this taste, I answered, already starting to feel a slight buzz. It certainly didn’t take much.

This isn’t about liking it. It’s about getting drunk, so then you like everything, she insisted.

I groaned and grabbed the shot from her, as though she had really tried all that hard to get me to have another.

She grinned when I took it and we raised our drinks again before throwing them back.

The second one’s not so bad, right? Riley asked, reacting to my expression again. want another...

No! I insisted, this time serious, I’m going to be mad if I can’t taste my drink now.

Oh, you’ll be fine! She exclaimed as she downed another shot, seamlessly.

I went back to sipping my drink.

We continued to talk and drink for the better part of an hour, until I was slightly afraid to stand. Occasionally, Riley would stop to talk to some of the party-goers and would introduce me. Unfortunately, alcohol did little to help elevate my social skills. Instead of simply being shy and for the most part, unable to have fun, I was now drunk, having fun, but still extremely shy.

I think you need to get laid, Riley insisted, almost out of the blue.

We had this conversation already, I insisted, looking into my drink to avoid her expression.

Yeah, but that was before I saw all of these hot guys and I think you would have so much fun with one of them,

"I think you’re wrong. You don’t need to babysit me. If