Love Illusions

By Rita Rodda

When a marriage crumbles, Jasmine, a hardworking mother of three, finds herself intrigued by a new relationship. Dirk seemed different than other men she had met. The relationship was budding quickly. Could she finally find happiness that she had so desperately longed for? He was a former marine sniper, financially stable, generous, and kind. Everyone liked him, especially Jasmine's mother.

That was the illusion!

Jasmine discovers Dirk's secrets, and things quickly unravel to expose deceit, lies, and misfortune. She was not prepared for what lay ahead or to what length this man would go to ruin her. That love illusion was coming to light.

How could things be so wrongly perceived, a deception and betrayal?

Follow her journey and the message she wants to leave to anyone in a domestic violence situation or if you are a friend of a victim.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Oct 27, 2023
• ISBN: 9798889432586

Book preview

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Love Illusions

Rita Rodda

ISBN 979-8-88943-257-9 (paperback)

ISBN 979-8-88943-258-6 (digital)

Copyright © 2023 by Rita Rodda

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Epilogue

About the Author

Chapter 1

The sound of the plotter, phones ringing, and the usual office chatter fill the air but fade into the distance as my thoughts turn to this Labor Day weekend 2004. Three days off, and Ben, my husband of ten years, and I will share the evening alone.

Are you finished, Jasmine, or do you have more plans to print?

Oh, Tom, you startled me. I was deep in thought. I am finished, sorry about that.

That's okay. I am sorry I scared you. It must be something good you are thinking about.

Oh, it is.

Do you care to share?

You wish. I had better get back to my desk now.

Another glance at the clock, and it is only 3:15 p.m. Time stands still when you are excited to have it over. Laying my freshly printed fixture plan down, it engulfs my work surface. It is a store-remodel project in the Chicago area. I am a buyer for ValuRight, a company I started working at after high school graduation, twenty-seven years of service and counting!

I canvas the plan department by department for the new equipment I will need to purchase, all part of a process to develop an equipment budget. It is a good focus, keeping me from daydreaming. Before I know it, Dana, not only coworker but also best friend, is standing at my desk, wishing me a good weekend.

You too, Dana! I didn't think this day was ever going to end.

Even in the five-o'clock-rush-hour traffic, my mind is focusing on the night's details so much that I could see, hear, and taste it. We will go to the Ranch Inn and splurge on steak, prawns, and halibut. We will also have a couple of cocktails to relax and return home for a romantic evening. Our son, Alex, is spending the night with a friend. It is a rare occasion that we have time alone together. Little did I know what the night was going to unveil.

My journey ends finally arriving at our new house of three months, our dream home. We sold the old house of ten years and found the place we are going to raise our son and retire in. This home is much bigger than our old house by nine hundred square feet, two more bedrooms, and one more bathroom. It is reflected in our doubled house payment. We went all out, and furnished it with new furniture and artwork. We are both very proud of our castle; a home is not just a man's castle after all.

Alex has already left to his friend Peter's house. I head to the bedroom to change my clothes, but Ben stops me. He looks nervous. His brown eyes are cold, and his voice is shaky.

Please sit down, Jasmine, I have something to tell you, and it is not going to be easy.

My heart is pounding as thoughts that he lost his job or perhaps something has happened to one of our family members. Not tonight, God, this was going to be special! There is nothing that could have prepared me for the words that flow from his lips.

Jasmine, I cheated on you. It was the night I went out with Randy after Laura's BBQ. I met Randy's girlfriend's friend. She made me feel attractive, and we kissed. Passion rushed through my veins. I went home with her, and we had sex. However, I couldn't achieve an orgasm because of the alcohol. The next week, when I took Alex to football practice, I dropped him off and went back to her house. I had to see what it was like, so we slept together again.

My heart ached with pain, my mind numb, my stomach twisted into knots, and tears filled my eyes as if someone was holding an onion right below them.

How could you do this, Ben? It is one thing for a drunken moment, but then you go back to see what you missed out on?

I am attracted to other women. They make me feel desirable. I will be moving out.

His hand clutches the front door handle, it seems to turn in slow motion, and the sound as it closes echoes through me.

I am hurt, in shock, and crying hysterically. I keep repeating, How could he do this? I thought we were happy. Ben was so cold and blunt. Not once did he say, I am sorry, please forgive me, but also I love you. I give him credit for telling me because most men would have hid it, but Ben did have a conscience. What did he mean other women make him feel desirable? Don't I? We had made love that very morning of Laura's BBQ on the night of his admitted infidelity.

I need a friend. The house is closing in on me. This structure of once happy and warm is now dark and lonely. Oh my god, how am I going to tell Alex? He is only eight, and I never wanted him to experience a broken home. He is such a great kid and so handsome. He has Ben's deep brown eyes and long eyelashes, olive complexion and so smart. How will this affect him?

After a few attempts, I reach my friend Kat. We have known each other for fifteen years. I know she will be of comfort as we have experienced divorce, boyfriends, childrearing, and many other things life has dealt us together. She is at her boyfriend's house only a couple of miles away.

Oh my god, Jasmine, I will be right over. Kat shows up with an eighteen pack of beer and a big hug. She listens while I cry, and we keep the beers flowing. I am drowning my sorrows temporarily.

Why me? Betrayal is one of the things Ben and I always talked about. He had a friend who had gone through infidelity, and his wife took him back. I told Ben that is one thing I could never forgive or forget. As little girls, we dream of marrying our prince charming and living in that perfect home.

What a fairy tale, Kat. Why do we kid ourselves? Two other failed marriages before Ben. Is it me?

Kat let me recant my past as if I was casting sins out of my body.

"I met Jake when I was fourteen at the park one summer. He was two years older, cute, and had a bad-boy image, long brown hair, a tattoo on his arm of a prior love, smoked cigarettes, and the first guy to like me. What I truly fell in love with was the attention. My friends had boyfriends, but I never felt very attractive. I certainly did not lead a life that was considered on the edge and maybe it intrigued me as well. We married when I was eighteen and had our two beautiful daughters when I was age twenty-one and twenty-four. Jake started to become increasingly violent. There were warning signs, but I always overlooked them. I loved him, and he was so apologetic after his outbursts. I soon became a prisoner, captured in this relationship. If I was a few minutes late coming home from work, he accused me of being with someone. I couldn't wear makeup or perfume, or Jake would ask me who I was wearing that for. Why couldn't he see it was for him? He accused me of cheating when all I did was work hard to support our family. He couldn't hold down a job but spent my paycheck before I could get it in the bank. He held a knife to my throat once and told me if I ever left, he would kill me. I was scared and kept this enemy close, so I knew what he was up to. After a couple of years, I got up the courage to leave. My thoughts had changed about staying close. I would take my chances on the escape. I had to get out not only for my own safety but also for my daughters. After eleven years, I was free.

"Kat, I have a great appreciation for women in battered relationships. It angers me when I hear someone say, ‘Well, she must like it because she doesn't do anything about it.' One thing I learned is how good your abuser is at brainwashing and control.

I never felt single since I had met Jake so young. I was out in the dating scene for the first time at age twenty-nine. I met different guys, but nothing interested me until Shaun. He was taller and older than Jake with sandy-brown hair and a mustache that framed his tender lip. He was four years older than me, and he put me on a pedestal. I looked for any signs of violence. I never wanted to be with a man like that again. I invoked conversations about men hitting women or how guys liked to get into bar fights. I always looked for signs of jealousy. I observed how he treated his mother and sister. All clear, he wasn't a violent man, actually quite tender in his touch and manner. He taught me what making love was all about. See, Jake only made it about him. He would take what he wanted, and my pain was his pleasure. I never had an orgasm. I would have rather cleaned the toilet than have sex at that time. Shaun was caring and seductive. He took his time and wanted to please me. It worked, and a whole new sexual world opened up to me. I learned what I had been missing, no more toilet cleaning for me, Kat!

We both laughed for a brief moment.

Shaun had never married and did not have any children. He did have a troubled childhood and would cry about how his dad treated him. His father was an alcoholic and was verbally abusive. Kat, I don't know if I told you, but there was also a tragic accident involving his ex-girlfriend Sandy. They slid into a snowbank on a mountain road. They were both out of the car, and Shaun went around the turn to slow traffic down. It was too late as a car raced around the corner and ran into Sandy, pinning her between the cars. Her leg was severed. Shaun picked up the boot containing her limb and stuck it in the snow while they waited for the paramedics to arrive. His hope was to preserve it for later reattachment, which didn't happen. He is carrying so much guilt. Kat, this poor man, we all have our stories. I knew I could fix this…if I love him enough, he won't be so sad. Shaun seemed to drown his sorrows a lot, but I overlooked it.

Kat listened on even though she was already aware of my past relationships; she knew I needed to get it all out.

"I accept marriage proposal number two in1990. It was a package deal. He had to accept me and my daughters, Tasha, who was age ten, and Mariah, age seven. Stepparenting isn't easy, and I admired that he was willing to take the challenge. Shaun built up my self-esteem, and for the first time, I felt pretty.

Why do I always think I can fix it? I can't fix anything. Our romance ended over bottles of black velvet, which became the other woman. How can you change a third-generation alcoholic? Here I go, a second-time loser. It just broke my heart to see my children embarrassed to bring friends over because Shaun was stumbling drunk. He wasn't a mean drunk, and I remember our best times were in the morning when he was still clearheaded. If it was only me, I would have stuck it out, but I couldn't put the girls through it anymore. Two hearts were broken because I know we really loved each other. Remember how he called me for several years after we divorced? His mom use to say that he was just as addicted to me as he was the alcohol.

Kat and I open another beer as she wipes my tears. She shifts back in the lawn chair, pulling back her long brown hair that shines even with the beams of the porch light.

Jasmine, you are a survivor. You have made it through Jake and Shaun, and you will pull through this as well.

Thanks for listening to me, Kat. You are a good friend, and I would have gone out of my mind if you hadn't come over tonight. It is getting late, and I hate to keep you any longer. I know you need to drive. I need to think about Alex and how I am going to tell him.

We finish our beers and talk about happier times. She always has a way of making me laugh.

Chapter 2

After a very restless night, the sun pierces through the bedroom window as if greeting me with the promise of a brighter day. I have to get up and try to look presentable. I am not looking forward to telling Alex. I have to be strong. My eyes are swollen, and my olive skin is pale and drawn. A shower will perk me up, and makeup will hide the stress that covers my face like a mask, but the shower didn't have the same effect on me as a normal day. I wasn't energized, and my tears blend in with the many drops of water. I need to pull it together. As I am getting dressed, the phone rings. My heart starts to pound harder as I pick up the receiver. It is Ben.

Jasmine, I will come by today to get some of my things.

Okay, Ben, I still can't believe this is happening. Alex will be home soon, and I think you need to be here to tell him why his father is moving out.

I could sense that my sadness is turning to anger.

We have lots of things to discuss.

Ben agrees and would be here within an hour. I, no sooner, hung up the phone when the doorbell rings. Alex is home early. I greet Millie and her son Peter and thank them for letting Alex spend the night.

Sorry we are a little early, Jasmine, but I have some errands to run, so I hope you don't mind. The boys had a great time.

I am glad you, boys, had fun, and next time, we would love to have Peter stay with us.

As the door shuts, Alex anxiously tells me about making homemade pepperoni pizza and playing video games. I look into his eyes, and my tears start to fall. I can't control it as much as I try.

What is wrong, Mommy?

Your father and I are getting a divorce.

The words blurt out like a bullet blazes from a gun, not how I had rehearsed it. Alex starts to cry and hugs me ever so tightly. He is very mature for his age, but how can I just drop it on him like that?

Your father will be here soon to talk with you.

Mommy, what happened? Why are you and Daddy getting a divorce?

Another gunshot of words left my body.

Your father was with another woman. I had no control of my emotions. Alex, we both love you very much, and nothing will ever change that, but sometimes mommies and daddies do fall out of love and can't live together anymore.

Ben arrives, seeing the tears in both of our eyes, and he takes Alex outside to talk with him.

I have so many questions for Ben. What did this gal look like? What is wrong with me? If he was so unhappy, why didn't he talk to me? How was I going to afford this house that we just moved into three months ago? I have so much anger toward his friend, Randy. I blame him. Randy wasn't faithful to his wife, and now he is single. Ben use to tell me when they went out, Randy wanted him to take off his wedding ring. Ben is very irresponsible when he is around Randy. He forgot to pick up Alex from daycare twice because he was out drinking with this so-called friend. Well, now they can party with each other all they want.

Ben and Alex come back into the house, and he asks if he can talk to me. Ben tells Alex to go play his video game while we talk. I start to fire off all of my questions. Ben is still very cold and again tells me he is attracted to other women. They make him feel good about himself. He is moving in with Randy temporarily until he can find his own place. Ben goes inside and proceeds to take some of his clothing. The tears won't stop. This is an exit visa. He didn't tell me because he is sorry and wants to work it out. I feel so empty and such a failure. Marriage number three is up in flames.

Ben leaves, and I check on Alex. If only I had the energy of a child. He is absorbed into his video game as if nothing is wrong. I call Kat to thank her again for being there for me. I am depressed, and so many thoughts are spinning in my head, and I still had to call my daughters and let them know what happened. Ben isn't the best stepdad, but he is a good father to Alex.

After many phone conversations with friends and family, I need to get out of the house. Being such an emotional mess isn't any good for Alex either. I call my sister Lynn to see if she will keep him for the night. Lynn is ten years older than me, and earlier in my life, we were strangers. She left home and married when I was only seven years old. In our adult life, we have become much closer. Lynn agrees, and I fill her in when I arrive.

Jasmine, you have the worst luck. I can't believe he did this. After ten years of marriage, I thought this one was going to be the one. Go out and try to have a good time. Be careful. I love you.

I love you too, Lynn.

I couldn't ask Kat to spend another evening with me. She has her boyfriend and family. Dana is out of town. I can't reach anyone, so I go to the VFW (Veterans of Foreign Wars) where I feel comfortable by myself. It has a cheers feel to it, a small club where everyone knows each other. I started going there a few months ago. It is one of the few places you could still smoke, and boy, did I need to smoke that night. It is a place for veterans, but nonmembers are welcome. I love to hear the stories, and everyone is friendly. None of my family was ever in the military, and this gives me a greater appreciation of the soldiers that fight for our freedom. I am greeted by Jim, a marine that had served in Beirut. He was one of the first gentlemen to approach me on my first visit.

Miss, my name is Jim Post, and I am from the VFW welcoming committee. What is your name?

I thought there was a welcoming committee, but later learn it was his smooth way of meeting me. Jim has a way of putting me at ease. We have various conversations, and then the tears start to swell in my eyes.

Jasmine, what is wrong? I proceed to tell Jim the reason for my night out. He consoles me and tells me I am a lovely lady, and it is my husband's loss.

Jim and I continue to discuss my troubles when the bartender places a marker in front of each of us. Someone has purchased a round of drinks.

Who can we thank for the drink?

The bartender points to a man at the end of the bar. I have met this man before. I remember his appearance six feet tall, dark hair, brown eyes, and mustache, the tall-dark-and-handsome type that I am attracted to. He and his dad had moved here from Las Vegas. I remember the first night we met, I was in the club with my friends, Dana and Laura. He had purchased a round of drinks that night as well. He told us about buying a house in Nampa. I started off with a joke. Well, kiss me where it stinks, drive me to Nampa. He laughed, and I explain the joke. This town has lots of manufacturing plants, and during certain times of the year, the air is filled with a stench, not where I would choose to live. My friend Laura is single, so I tried to hook them up. He talked of his love for fishing that night. Dana's parents spend their time in Cascade, and her dad is an avid fisherman. She invited him to Cascade, telling him to look up her dad in space 23 and said, My dad would be glad to take you out fishing.

I couldn't remember his name, but as I look down to thank him, he waves and smiles.

Enjoy, he says.

Jim has to leave, and as I finish my drink, I feel someone standing beside me. It is him.

Your name is Jasmine, right?

Yes.

I don't know if you remember me, but my name is Dirk Johnson, and I met you in here a few weeks ago.

Of course, I replied, not letting on that I didn't remember his name. Did you get your house in Nampa?

Yes, I purchased one of the first homes I looked at, and it doesn't smell in my subdivision.

We laugh, and he buys me another drink.

You seem upset tonight, Jasmine.

I am not sure why, but I tell him about the news I received from my husband and how I was sure our marriage was over.

Let's talk about something else.

Dirk tells me about working at Warner Brothers and how he trained as a sniper in the Marine Corps and how his dad grew up here as a child and always wanted to come back, so he picks him up one day and says, Dad, let's go. Dirk is very charming and kind. He asks me if I have children.

Yes, I have three, two older daughters and a son, that still lives at home. How about you?

I don't have any children. Jasmine, ten years is a lot to throw away, especially with an eight-year-old at home.

Well, Ben should have thought of that! What I need to do is get revenge and get even for what he did to me. I need to pick someone up and sleep with them so he can see how it feels.

Don't do anything rash. I would love to take you home but not like this.

Dirk has to leave but asks if he can take me to lunch sometime as a friend. I agree, and he gives me his phone number.

I finish my drink and decide to go to Rascals, another place where I know lots of people. I thought about my revenge statement, and I knew I shouldn't have said it. My anger has reared its ugly head, but I have no intention of picking anyone up. I was impressed that Dirk acted like such a gentleman. Most guys would have jumped at the opportunity. When I arrive at Rascals, I see several of my old buddies, but as the evening progresses, so do my emotions. I get a bite to eat and go home, another night of crying myself to sleep.

Another restless night, but I need to get out of this bed although I wish it would swallow me up as to silence the outside world. I enter the kitchen and gaze into the refrigerator when I hear the front door open. It is Ben. This time his expression is quite different—sad and remorseful.

I am sorry, Jasmine. I love you, and I want to work this out.

What was this change of heart? Perhaps everything he is about to lose has sunk in?

I don't know how you could do this to us! You know how I felt about cheating, and I thought we agreed we would never do that to each other, but we went over this yesterday. I guess I am still trying to figure out what ran over me, I walked blindly into this street and got flattened, and the truck never stopped to see if I was okay. I am not sure I will forget this or ever trust you again, Ben, and you will probably never trust me, thinking I will want to even the score.

I know, Jasmine. It was wrong how I handled it, but at least I told you. Please think about it, Jasmine. We can go to counseling or anything else you want me to do. I know this will be hard for you, but please give us this chance.

I had plans for a romantic evening with you while Alex was gone. How could you do this? I thought we were happy. I will think about it, Ben, but now I need to pick up Alex. I can't do this right now.

I agree to try to sort this mess out, so Ben schedules some marriage counseling for the next few weeks offered through his work, taking advantage of eight free sessions. We go to the bookstore to purchase some books on infidelity. As I stand in the checkout lane, a rush of panic overcomes me as if every customer in the store knew our dirty little secret: My husband has cheated on me. I am holding a scarlet letter, and it is taking my breath away.

Ben, you are going to have to purchase these. I will wait for you outside.

The crisp air cools my face and fills my lungs with relief as I exit the store. I really tried, but that image of him holding another woman consumes my mind.

Ben takes me to dinner that night. He wants to start over like our first date. I am trying, but this is not our first date, and my memories are now tainted of anything good. We arrive home, and Ben asks if he can come in.

Jasmine, I love you, and I am so glad we are going to counseling.

I can't say anything. I turn on the TV, and Ben pulls me close, placing his hand on my back with a gentle caress, leaning in, pressing his lips tightly around mine. The faceless ghost of a woman is in between us, and the lips I see pressing against Ben's are hers, quickly opening my eyes as to cast this ghost back to hell.

Ben, I am sorry I can't do this.

It is okay. We can take all the time you need. I will call you tomorrow.

Housework always helps to distract me when I am upset. I have the cleanest house on the block after the last few weeks. I pick up my jacket to hang it up, and a piece of paper drifts to the floor from my pocket. It is Dirk's phone number. Should I call him? I set the tattered paper on the counter, my mind playing back our conversation at the post. I have nothing to lose and could make a new friend. My hand picks up the phone and then quickly places it back on the receiver like a hot potato. Okay, Jasmine, take a deep breath. You can do this. Pressing each number fills my stomach with butterflies, each ring increasing the rush. Perhaps his answering machine will pick up. The ringing stops, and a familiar voice answers.

Hello?

Is this Dirk?

Why, yes, it is, and who might this be?

It is Jasmine.

I was wondering if I was going to hear from you. How are things going? Wait, before you answer, are you calling to take me up on lunch? I would rather see you in person, and you can fill me in. Are you free tomorrow?

Yes, I can make tomorrow.

Great! How about eleven thirty at the Seafood Shack?

Okay, that sounds good, Dirk.

The rest of the conversation is filled with small talk before we say goodnight to each other.

It is a beautiful day in the capital city, an Indian summer filling the October air, and the changing leaves full of red, orange, and yellow are breathtaking. I am very nervous driving to the restaurant I feel like a teenage girl on a first date. However, it is just a friendly lunch. I arrive in the parking lot, and Dirk is waiting outside for me. He jumps off the bench, smiles, and heads toward my car, his hair slightly blowing in the breeze.

Hi, Jasmine, I already have a table waiting for us inside.

Dirk opens the front door and guides me to the table, where a dozen yellow roses rest on the tablecloth. Dirk pulls out my chair, and the waitress arrives to take our order.

I am so glad you called me, Jasmine. Tell me what is going on?

I tell him about our counseling sessions, and the ghost that haunts me.

Jasmine, if there is any way to work this out, you should for your son's sake. I am not saying what your husband did was right, but ten years is a long time and needs some careful consideration.

Thank you for your advice. Sometimes we need a fresh look at things.

Of course, if things don't work out, I would love to see you again, and by the way, those flowers are for you.

Thanks, Dirk, they are beautiful.

The hour passes quickly, and I have to get back to work.

Jasmine, can I ask for your phone number?

I scratch out my number as Dirk pays the bill. He walks me to my car, opening the door for me. Dirk gives me a hug and a peck on the cheek.

We will talk soon, and I enjoyed today.

I did too, and the roses are so pretty, thank you.

Chapter 3

I meet Ben for therapy session number seven; however, it feels like our first. I can't see any progress to heal this marriage. In sessions one through six, we discuss issues that bothered us about one another, stepparenting, sharing household chores, but today I will address why Ben told me about his indiscretion.

Dr. Eisner, I feel that Ben told me about this woman as an exit visa, very cold and callous. It sickens me that he went back to find out what it was like when he should have been with our son at practice.

Ben, can you respond to your wife?

The guilt was eating me alive, and I wanted to tell you the truth even though I knew it would hurt you badly. I was confused, and it was an end, but now I have realized what is important to me.

Ben, you are correct. You were trying to leave this relationship, or you would have never told Jasmine about the affair. Building trust or a sexual relationship is going to take time and commitment from each of you. I want both of you to think about this over the next week, what you expect from each other and what you think is a reasonable timeline.

A freedom comes over me as we leave Dr. Eisner's that day. My decision is made when I stop in the middle of the parking lot to announce my declaration of independence!

This is over. I will never trust or forget. No amount of time will ever heal this.

I believe Ben knew all along we were not going to have the happily ever after ending. I have a spring back in my step as I head toward the car. The weight of insecurity, low self-esteem, and that ghostly image of a faceless woman are gone! Now who has the look of shock and hurt on their face?

Over the next few days, I start the paperwork for the divorce and the refinance on the house. The home was purchased with a VA loan using Ben's benefits. I will have to go through the red tape to redo the loan, even though the ink has barely dried on the original documents. It will be a struggle making the house payment on my own. Alex seems to be adjusting fine, sharing his time between us. Mariah and Tasha are relieved perhaps because Ben never made them feel welcome.

My mind wanders to thoughts of Dirk. What a nice guy, polite, retired at a young age, a caregiver to his father, and a marine that fought for his country. My heart wants to get to know this man better even though my brain is telling me not to be eager to get into another relationship. What if this was fate that we met again on that particular night?

The phone rings, snapping me out of my daydreaming state.

Hello?

Jasmine, how are things?

It is Dirk, weird since I was just thinking about him. Is this another sign of fate?

I am doing better, and I have decided to leave Ben. I just can't forgive and forget.

I know this has been hard for you. I am glad you went to counseling before you made your decision. Although, I have to admit that I was hoping to see you again.

Nervousness comes over me—that excited feeling deep in the pit of my stomach.

"How would you like to come over tomorrow night? I can show you the house, and we can go out