All in Due Time

By Wendy Zuccarello

Brielle "Brie" Silver experienced tragedy at a young age leaving her a widow at twenty-three, and a single mom to Travis, her rambunctious son. They build a life together in a small town in northern New Jersey. She gets help from her mother, but it's not the same. She misses her husband and wishes her son had a male role model in his life. Her bagel shop, Everything Bagel, keeps her busy. She doesn't realize what she is missing until she meets the handsome new police officer in town, Wyatt Stevens.

Wyatt moved to a small town to escape his past and to have a better shot at making detective. Upon meeting Brie, he realizes that maybe there is something more for him here in this small town besides a job. He quickly latches on to Brie and her son, and they make plans to move on with their lives together.
But what happens when Wyatt's past catches up with them and puts both Brie and Travis in danger? Can Wyatt truly move on, or will things escalate to the point of no return?

Follow Brie and Wyatt as they explore their newfound love and are both forced to face the demons of their pasts together.

Guaranteed HEA.

WARNING: This book contains scenes of violence that may be a trigger to some.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wendy Zuccarello
• Release date: Nov 11, 2021
• ISBN: 9798215381793

Wendy Zuccarello

Wendy Zuccarello lives in central New Jersey with her husband, two teenagers, and many pets.  In her spare time, when she is not reading or writing, she is working on her MFA in Creative Writing.  She also enjoys watching movies with her family, photography, and baseball.

Book preview

For my fellow MFA friends at SNHU – we can do this!

Brielle Brie Silver experienced tragedy at a young age leaving her a widow at twenty-three, and a single mom to Travis, her rambunctious son. They build a life together in a small town in northern New Jersey. She gets help from her mother, but it's not the same. She misses her husband and wishes her son had a male role model in his life. Her bagel shop, Everything Bagel, keeps her busy. She doesn't realize what she is missing until she meets the handsome new police officer in town, Wyatt Stevens.

Wyatt moved to a small town to escape his past and to have a better shot at making detective. Upon meeting Brie, he realizes that maybe there is something more for him here in this small town besides a job. He quickly latches on to Brie and her son, and they make plans to move on with their lives together.

But what happens when Wyatt's past catches up with them and puts both Brie and Travis in danger? Can Wyatt truly move on, or will things escalate to the point of no return?

Follow Brie and Wyatt as they explore their newfound love and are both forced to face the demons of their pasts together.

Guaranteed HEA.

WARNING: This book contains scenes of violence that may be a trigger to some.

Prologue

Brie

The knock at the door startles me, waking me from a deep sleep.  Glancing over at my alarm clock, I see that it’s early, too early for someone to be stopping by for a visit.  My heart rate increases and an uneasy feeling fills my gut.  Maybe it was in my dream.  Maybe there really isn’t someone at my front door at three in the morning.

When the knock comes again, I shoot up in bed.  My hands instinctively go to my round belly in protection.  I’m due in two months, just when Evan, my husband, is supposed to get home from his most recent tour overseas.  I am hesitant to answer the door at this hour.  It’s not that I live in a questionable area, I just know that nothing good will come from opening that door.

My phone rings as another knock comes, louder this time.

Glancing at my phone, I see a familiar name.

Hello? I answer, worried that I know what this is already.

Brie.  It’s Noah, honey.  Can you open the door?

No.  No.  My head shakes back and forth on its own, the tears already falling.  Noah is Evan’s best friend.  They serve in the same unit of the Army and were on their last assignment together.  The only reason he would be here...

Brie.  Please, he says, softer this time, and I can hear the pity in his voice.

I have no idea how I get there, but I look at my front door as my hand reaches out and grasps the doorknob, my phone still clutched tightly in the other hand.  I swear the door opens on its own.  I know my hand has a firm hold on the knob, but I don’t remember pulling.

My eyes start on his shoes – Nikes, I think.  His jeans are dark, or maybe it’s just that it is dark outside.  He is wearing a grey hoodie, his hands tucked into the front pocket.  It is his eyes, though, that tell me why he is here.  They are rimmed in red, and wet with unshed tears.

I hear a horrible, gut-wrenching scream, a wailing like a siren.  It takes me a second to realize that it is coming from me.  The next few minutes pass in a blur.  Noah scooping me into his arms and carrying me inside, the tears pouring out of me, howls of devastation.  I feel as though I am outside of my body looking in, a mindless spectator watching the worst moment of my life.

Noah’s broken voice comes through like a knife on a glass bottle.  I’m so sorry, Brie.  So damn sorry.

I am gasping, unable to bring any air into my lungs.  He is rubbing my back, trying to soothe away the pain.  But I know it will never go away.  This is a burden that I will carry for the rest of my life, an invisible heaviness right on my heart.

How? I ask, needing to know for some sick reason.

He sniffles, wiping at a few of his own tears.  An IED.

Oh, God, I choke out.  Awful pictures begin to form in my mind – pain, suffering, agony, burning.

It was fast, he says like that makes any difference. He pulls me back into his arms, wrapping his arms around me, engulfing me in a cocoon of an uncomfortable embrace.  This feels wrong.  These aren’t the arms that should be wrapped around me.  This isn’t the man who should be comforting me.  This shouldn’t be happening.  He was too young.  I am too young.

He holds me for a long time, whispering words of apology, of support, of sorrow, but nothing stops the pain.  He eventually carries me back to my bed, laying me down and covering me with my blanket.

I’ll be out on the couch if you need anything, sweetheart.  I’m here for whatever you need, Brie.  It’s what... he stops, clearing his throat.  It’s what Evan would have wanted.  He chokes out the words like they taste bad.

He leaves the room, softly closing the door behind him.  I am on my side, clutching the sheets in my fists.  My body is numb but strung tight, my mind trying to shut down, my heart destroyed.  There will be no coming back from this.  I know that no matter what happens from here, I will never be the same.  The Brie I have been is gone, she left and isn’t looking back.

I am a widow at twenty-three.  I am about to be a single mother.  My husband, the love of my life, my best friend, my everything, is gone, stolen from me.  How does one recover from something like this?

I stare blankly at our wedding photo that rests on Evan’s nightstand.  His smile is so... was so radiant, so infectious.  How is it possible that this vibrant, amazing man is gone?  Why would he be taken? 

I don’t move, I can’t.  I can feel my little bean moving around, but it seems slower like he or she knows that something is terribly wrong.  No, not something, everything. 

I have no idea how much time passes.  I can hear people moving around my apartment.  My mother is here, I heard her voice several times over the past few hours.  Noah is still here, along with several others, that I just can’t find the strength to even try to identify their voices.  The door to my room opens and closes many times throughout the morning, checking to make sure I am still with them.  Am I?

I eventually get up, moving like a zombie towards the door.  I hesitate, knowing that once I open this door, everything changes, life as I know it, is over, and my new life begins, the one where I am alone.

The knob turns, and my mother is standing there.  She pulls me into her arms.

I’m so sorry, she sobs, but I am unable to respond.  I think I nod, but I’m not sure.

What do you need, baby?  What can I do? she asks, and for some reason, that snaps me out of my haze.

I have a lot to do, I say, my voice flat, dry, and emotionless.  I have to call the funeral home, the cemetery.  Is Noah still here?  When will Evan’s body get here?  Do I have to have it picked up from the airport?  How will I know where he is?

Honey, we have time to figure all of that out, she says, but the final string holding everything together inside me snaps, and the words pour out like water from a broken dam.

No!  No, we don’t!  There is no time, don’t you see?  We could be gone at any moment!  It is my responsibility to take care of this.  No one else can do it!  It has to be me!  I am all alone now, Mom.  Evan is gone, and I have to raise this child on my own.  He promised he would be here!  He promised!  What is the point of any of this?  Why did he have to die, Mom?  Why?  I am shaking with fear, or sadness, or confusion.  I don’t know anymore.

That’s the thing with grief, it is a vacuum.  Sure, there are the stages that everyone talks about, but what they don’t tell you is that you will lose yourself in the process, your soul gets sucked right out of you.  You realize that there are no true certainties in life other than birth, and death and the cruelest of all things is that you have no idea when either will happen.  We are just mindless cogs in the wheel of life.

I spend the next few days preparing – for the funeral, but also for the rest of my life.  I talk to my baby throughout the whole process, doing my best to assure him or her that they still have me, that I will do everything I can to make them happy.  I apologize that they will never know their father, that they will only have me, but I promise to make sure that I am enough.

I move blindly through everything.  The funeral comes and goes.  Life continues, but it’s not the same, it will never be the same again.

Chapter 1

Brie

H ere comes Officer Hottie, Cheryl says, teasing me as usual.  I try not to show it, but the excitement rushes through me.  Officer Hottie is Officer Wyatt Stevens, and he has been coming to my little bagel shop, Everything Bagel, every morning for the past month.  He transferred here to our little town of Frenchtown, New Jersey from the city in hopes of becoming a detective – at least that is what he told me.  I have gotten to know him well over the last month as each time he comes in, he spends time talking with me, asking me tons of questions about myself.  Cheryl says he is flirting with me, but I think he is just a friendly guy.  Don’t get me wrong, he is very handsome – ok, he’s hot, beyond hot.  He is tall, I would guess a bit over six feet, with blonde hair and the most alluring chocolate eyes.  His hair is kept a little longer on top, but short on the sides, and he has a trim beard, something that drives me crazy.  I watch him glide gracefully toward the front door, his police uniform hugging his body showing off his magnificent build.

Will you stop it, I say, bringing myself out of my little fantasy.

"One of these days you are going to realize that Officer Hottie has the hots for you," she says, nudging me with her elbow, wiggling her eyebrows up and down.

Stop it, I say with more force this time, fighting a smile.  I’m going to check on the last batch of cinnamon raisins.

You can run, but you can’t hide, she says in a sing-song voice.

I scoot through the kitchen door just as the bell above the front door rings.  I’m not hiding per se, just need a moment to calm down before I make a fool of myself in front of Wyatt.  The guilt hits me as sudden as a heart attack.  This happens every day and no matter how hard everyone tries to convince me it is ok to move on, I just can’t.  It has been five years since Evan died, but the feeling of betrayal never leaves.  Every time I see Wyatt, I get this sense that Evan is watching from somewhere.

I can hear Cheryl and Wyatt chatting.  He laughs at something she says, and it warms my heart.  He has the most contagious laugh, one that can brighten anyone’s day.  My fingers absently find their way to my wedding ring, safely secured on a chain around my neck.  I rub it between my fingers, willing Evan to give me a sign that he is doing ok, silently telling him that no matter what, I will always love him.  I feel a tear slip free and drop my chin to my chest.

The door to the kitchen swings open and Cheryl comes in, her face dropping the instant she sees me.  Oh, honey.  I really wish you would stop doing this to yourself.  He would want you to be happy, Brie, she says, pulling me into a hug.  Cheryl and I have known each other for a long time.  We went to the same schools together, and she knew Evan.  She was in my wedding, and her husband was one of Evan’s friends.

I stand there, silently crying on her shoulder, for a few minutes.  She rubs her hands up and down my back, trying to soothe away my pain and guilt.  When I pull back to look at her, she has tears in her eyes.

I can’t help it, Cheryl.  I feel like I would be betraying him, destroying his memory.  Wyatt hasn’t even asked me out but talking to him both hurts my heart and gives me butterflies.  It is very confusing, I say, wiping away the tears.

Let me ask you this.  If the roles were reversed, if you were taken away from Evan, and he was left here alone, would you want him to be happy, even if that was with someone else?

I blanch at her words.  Of course, I would want him to be happy.  I wouldn’t want him pining away over... Ok, I see what you did there.

She smirks at me, knowing that she has me right where she wants me.  Go on.  Go out and just talk to him, just like you have been doing for the past month.  That man has it bad for you, and honestly, I don’t think you could do much better than him.  Evan would agree.

I narrow my eyes at her.  Ok, naggy-pants.  I’m going.

She gives me a little shove and I stumble through the door, my eyes finding Wyatt’s immediately.

Hey, angel.  How are you today? he says, his deep voice giving me chills.  He has been calling me angel since the second day, and I secretly love it.

Hey, Wyatt.  I’m good.  What can I get you today?

How about your phone number, he says, blushing slightly. 

Sorry, we are fresh out of phone numbers today, but I have cinnamon raisin bagels fresh from the oven, I say, teasing him.

His eyes shoot up to mine.  He stares at me for a moment with his eyes wide and then smiles.  You’re teasing me, aren’t you?

I nod.  Yeah, I’m teasing you, I say, brushing some of my hair behind my ears, a nervous habit.

So does that mean you are going to give me your number so that I can take you out sometime?

It’s my turn to blush.  My