The Tears Of The Wounded Rose

By Susan Igogo

Amaya Paxton has been searching for the one .She was ready to settle for anything as long as it leads to a marriage license. Her heart was broken in the hands of her ex-boyfriend, He helped her as a friend until one night; feelings brought them closer to the same page. After several weeks, Amaya found out he came with the baggage, and lo

• Language: English
• Publisher: TOPLINK PUBLISHING, LLC
• Release date: Apr 27, 2018
• ISBN: 9781948962759

Susan Igogo

Susan Igogo started writing fiction as a way to escape reality and enter into a fantasy world. She has a phenomenal ability to turn situation observed into compelling stories, populated with diverse characters experiencing real dilemmas and challenges. She mostly enjoys creating characters feuding, colliding and involving themselves in each other's life. Whenever she goes out, she observes something going on in her environment that inspires another story. Susan enjoys watching soccer games, listening music, travelling and reading. She is a fond of nature too. Whatever she does, she keeps her eyes, ears and imagination open to the next great story ideas as she continues honing her writing craft. She is a daughter, sister and aunt.

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The Tears Of The Wounded Rose

Susan Igogo

Copyright © 2018 by Susan Igogo.

Paperback: 978-1-948962-74-2

eBook: 978-1-948962-75-9

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Ordering Information:

For orders and inquiries, please contact:

1-888-375-9818

www.toplinkpublishing.com

[e-mail]

Printed in the United States of America

Contents

Acknowledgment

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Dedication

In loving memory of my sister, Deborah Igogo,

Rest in Peace until we meet again!

Acknowledgment

T he Tears of The Wounded Rose would have been impossible without the hardworking and dedication of Toplink Publishing. Special thanks to Karl Evans, my publishing fulfilment officer. To Ashley, my editor, you are fanta stic.

I would like to thank Eugene Gutierrez for introducing me to Toplink Publishing. You always inspired me to write romantic fiction and believe in me.

I thank my parents for being avid readers. I grew up seeing them buy and read books in their spare time. When I was younger, my parents told me bedtime stories which inspired me to read books. I read books, and now I love writing stories.

Thanks to my siblings, Joseph, May, Lilian, April, Martha, and Bitta. My nephews, nieces, thank you for unwavering love and made me a proud aunt.

I would also like to thank friends for your love, support, and encouragement. Susan Mallya, thanks for being a friend since we were teenage girls till today. You are more than a friend. To Sarah Chomba, thanks for your friendship. You are awesome.

Last special gratitude to my roommates Betty, Jacqueline, Grace and Martha. Thanks to Grace for outlining the character and suggested a theme for my first book The Flowers of True Love. I love you all!

Chapter One

S top! Mrs. Anderson was yelling and meandering towards them. Amaya’s bouquet swooped on the rug. With a brain still processing, did she hear the word stop? Amaya’s skin felt warm, and her face turned red. The sitting room was quiet enough to hear a mite crawling. Kolton dressed a black suit and burgundy shirt while Amaya had wrapped in a short white dress, silver high heels and a tiara on her head. Mrs. Anderson stood, arms on hips, no wedding today! she blurted out.

I did not dream my son’s wedding to be cheap like this, Mrs. Anderson pointed out. She eyed them with anger. You both are only twenty-three years old.

But we love each other, Amaya explained. You don’t know love yet. Mrs. Anderson responded.

Kolton’s cousin stood next to Amaya with a guilty face. I did not tell anybody, she said. You don’t know life yet, Mrs. Anderson raised her voice. Sit down, she commanded. Amaya and Kolton sat on separate couches facing each other.

You can’t even support your kids. I hired a nanny so that you can go back to college. But you did not learn and got pregnant again. You flunked every test, Amaya. You ruined my son’s life. My son has become an idiot since he met you. Mrs. Anderson stood and walked to the water dispenser at the corner of the sitting room, got a cup of water and took a sip. You two ruined my day today, she continued yelling while pointing fingers at them.

I am out of here, Amaya exclaimed and took off her shoes. She held them in her hands and walked heavily. Amaya was sobbing, and her nose was running. Afterward, she sat on a bed. When Kolton walked in, she murmured, I hate you, I hate you. You ruined my life too. I left my family for you.

I did not cancel the wedding; mom did Kolton answered in defense. Amaya went on crying because you are mama’s boy, she said. Amaya told him they could go to the court and picked random strangers to witness the wedding. He involved his favorite cousin, who told Kolton’s mother about all the plans. Leave my cousin out of this, he retorted and added, listen, Amaya, I wanted to marry you because you insisted if I won’t, you will run away with my kids. Amaya used her kids as glue to stick a relationship. The truth was, their relationship started to fall apart since Amaya delivered her second baby. Amaya wanted a husband and a good family as her priority. She always had a fear what if Kolton won’t marry her. Will she able to date other men?

Since Amaya was a little girl, she dreamed about a white summer wedding at the ranch. Then, she lowered her expectations and realized that what matters is just a marriage license. No hope for either one.

Ten hours later, Mrs. Anderson banged her bedroom door. Stop the fantasy; it’s time to do your chores. Amaya got out of the bed like an obedient helper.

She entered the kitchen and mopped the floor.

That was the day Amaya Paxton realized a journey to the altar for a wedding, never existed. Why other women met the one and got married, but not me?

At 5:00 pm, Amaya reached out the cabinet, took out four glasses and set on the tray. She grabbed a wine bottle at the kitchen countertop and descended the stairs to the basement. Women of that street were in sequins dresses; heavy jewelry around their necks, wrists, and fingers, four to five rings each hand. The book club was in the session, and Mrs. Anderson was in tears, sympathizing with the main characters. Fake, fake tears.

Amaya looked at them and realized there was an unfamiliar face. She was entirely a new member of the group. Who is this lovely lady? The unknown guest asked curiously. Mrs. Anderson gazed at Amaya, she just lives here, she said.

Amaya burned inside but able to put off the fire on her face. She smiled and poured wine into each glass. Enjoy the wine, she told them and ascended the stairs back to the kitchen. Amaya unloaded the dishwasher and re-read her to-do list again. Few chores left: to clean guests bathroom, to pick up dry cleaning, and to pass out dinner invitations. She just lives here came to her mind. What does Mrs. Anderson think she is? Amaya wondered. She used to introduce her as Kolton’s baby mama, and now Amaya was introduced as she just lives here. Walking to the lounge; Kolton was watching sports. Amaya sat next to him, leaned on his shoulder. He jerked out of the couch. Amaya stood up. I am tired living here, she said. He looked at her for two minutes. You’re allowed living here because of the kids, he quipped. My mom thinks you dragged me into these kids’ situation so that I can marry you. Kolton told her he could be in a college dormitory chasing girls at that moment. I am only 23, what do you want me to do? Kolton looked at her like he was waiting for an answer. I am only 23 years old too, Amaya said. She looked down then up to the level of his eyes to make eye contact. Just love me and support me, Amaya whispered. Kolton rolled his eyes as if it didn’t hit him with any sentiments.

Marry me, or you will never see our kids again? Amaya threatened. You can go but leave my kids with my family, Kolton shouted. I can’t go without my kids.

Mrs. Anderson walked toward them with her arms akimbo, stood in the middle. What’s going on? She interrupted. They did not answer. Kolton darted outside with a frown on his face and slammed the door. Amaya was left alone with perplexities and anguish behind her remaining composure. Mrs. Anderson reminded her. When you serve my guests, make sure you wear deodorant. By the way, Kolton needs his space. He is going to check in himself in the hotel room. He will be back on Saturday, Mrs. Anderson said and walked back to the basement. Amaya, we are out of wine, a voice heard from a basement. Amaya rushed to the basement to serve them. Her heart was frozen, and her hopes were gone.

Three nights passed by, Kolton did not call Amaya. Amaya’s kids the best kids could ever ask. They played on their own just give them