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Authors: Sandi Lynn

Forever Black

BOOK: Forever Black
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FOREVER

BLACK

 

~A Novel~

 

Sandi Lynn

 

 

Forever Black copyright © 2013 Sandi
Lynn

 

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.

This is a work of
fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the
author’s imagination or are used factitiously. Any resemblance to actual
events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

 

Cover Design by Meredith Blair

Cover Image by Shutterstock ID:
Melissaf84

 

 

 

Acknowledgments

 

To my husband, thank
you for putting up with my endless nights on my laptop writing and editing to
make this book possible. Thank you for understanding all the times I ignored
you and told you to be quiet or turn the TV down so I could concentrate. I love
you! To my 3 darling teenage daughters and their never-ending question, “What’s
for dinner?” Also, to my beta readers, I couldn’t have done this without you!
Thank you.

 

 

 

 

 

FOREVER

BLACK

Chapter 1

 

I
stood in the doorway of the bedroom while Kyle packed his bags.

“I
just need some space,” he said as he threw his clothes haphazardly into his large
Nike bag.

“Does
this have anything to do with that whore you met at Zoe’s the other night?”

“Elle,
come on, I told you nothing happened.”

I
rolled my eyes at him, “You tell me a lot of things Kyle.”

He
threw the last of his clothes in his Nike bag and turned around to face me, “We
both knew we were heading for this, things have been rocky for a while now, and
you know why.”

“Rocky
for you because you are searching for something that does not exist.”

He
let out a heavy sigh, “I’m sorry Elle I just can’t do this anymore.”

I
followed him to the small space we call the living room as he dropped his bag
on the floor. He reached in his jean pocket and threw some money on the table,
“This is for the next couple of months so you can pay the rent.” He kissed me
on my forehead and headed for the door.

I
crossed my arms and stared at him, “I don’t want your money; I want you to
stay. Please Kyle; don’t give up on us.”

I
was now the most pathetic person in the world, begging my douchebag boyfriend to
stay; not because I thought I was in love with him, but because I was afraid of
being alone, and being alone was something that was all too familiar to me.

He
picked up his bag from the ground and slung it over his shoulder, “Take care
Elle,” and just like that he walked out. I stood in the middle of the living
room and looked at the closed door as tears escaped my eyes.

Kyle
and I have been together since sophomore year of college. We both attended
Michigan State University and met at a frat party when he was a Delta Sigma
Phi. Kyle was a good looking guy with his 6ft stature and medium build. He was
not exactly eye candy, but he was cute. He always kept his jet black hair
perfectly combed, and his dark brown eyes reminded me of my one favorite thing
in the world, chocolate. Kyle was the person whose presence lit up the room. His
charm and romance is what swept me off my feet. He studied accounting while I
studied Art. It was not too long after we graduated that his cousin got him a
job at the large accounting firm where he was employed. This is how we ended up
moving from Michigan to New York. Kyle worked full-time as an accountant and
made pretty decent money, so I was able to take on a part-time job at a record
company and finish painting the pictures I promised the art gallery.

We
rented a one bedroom apartment that was small, but it was our home for the past
year and it made us happy; at least I thought it did. I took my teary eyed self
and sat on the couch, curled in a ball and cried myself to sleep.

I
had not been sleeping long when I was startled by a knock on the door. I sat up
and looked around the room, eyes swollen and red.

“Elle,
are you in there?” I heard a familiar voice say as she pounded on the door.
 
I got up from
the couch and stumbled to open the door. Peyton always seemed to know when I
needed her most. She threw her hands up in the air.

“Elle,
it is about time, I thought I was going to have to break down the door.” She
put her arms around me and hugged me tight. I motioned for her to come in as
she pushed her way through and set a large brown bag on the table.

“I
come bearing douchebag boyfriend food,” she smiled as she rummaged through the
bag. She removed the boxes of Chinese food and set them on the table.

“We
have Mongolian Beef, Lettuce Wraps, Chicken Fried Rice, Wonton soup and chocolate
ice cream for dessert.”

Her
grin went from ear to ear, but quickly fell as I dropped my head and curled
back up on my couch. Peyton sighed heavily as she walked over and sat next to
me.

“Kyle
texted me and said he left. He wanted me to come over to check on you and make
sure you were ok.”

I
lifted my head from my arms. Who the fuck did he think he was sending my best
friend over to see if I was ok? I thought as angered burned inside me.

“He
said he left because of irreconcilable differences.”

“What
are we married?” I growled.

Peyton
gave me a sympathetic smile and walked to the kitchen to grab plates and silverware
for the food sitting on the table. I could not stop thinking about Kyle and how
he just left. We were never apart for more than a couple of days, and now we’d
be apart forever and once again I was alone. I knew why he decided to leave,
and for that reason I hated him. I gave him every opportunity to tell me the
truth, but he could not even look me in the eye and do that. He was a coward,
and I had no room in my life for cowards. Even though I felt sick to my stomach,
I got up and made my way to the table as Peyton put some food on my plate.

“Listen
Elle, Kyle is a douchebag, and I’m sorry you wasted the last four years of your
life with him. You need to focus on something else. You need to finish your
paintings and get them over to the art gallery so people can find out who
Ellery Lane truly is,” she said waving her fork around. I lightly smiled
because I knew she was right; if there was one way I could escape the hurt and
loneliness, it was through my paintings. She reached over and put her arm around
me and gave me a squeeze, “Don’t worry I’ll be here for you.”

I
met Peyton at the art gallery the day I stopped by to talk to the owner about
displaying my paintings. The minute she asked, “May I help you,” we clicked and
have been best friends ever since. One thing about Peyton is her personality,
its way bigger than her 5’2”, Size 0 body. She always sports the perfect look with
her long straight brown hair and perfectly placed makeup that enhances her
bright blue eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her dress in a pair of
sweatpants; for her it is all about style with skirts and cute little tops. There
isn’t a shortage of guys when Peyton is around. They’re always flirting with
her, but she has yet to find the perfect man to give her heart to.

I
didn’t feel like eating, but I knew I had to appease Peyton or she would not
leave me alone.

“Do
you want me to stay with you tonight?”

I
set my fork down, “Nah, I just want to be alone. I think I’ll go take a bath.”

I
got up from the table and headed to the bathroom. I turned the water on and
poured a capful of bubble bath in its stream. I twisted my long blonde hair up
and clipped it to prevent it from getting wet. I climbed in the bubble filled
tub and slid down until my head was resting on the bath pillow behind me. I
laid there, closed my eyes and tried to think of a plan, but I was to grief-stricken,
and I needed the proper amount of time to wallow in self-pity before moving on
with my life as a single female.

By
the time I got out of the bathtub, Peyton had everything cleaned up. She had left
me a text message saying,
“Elle, get some rest and call me if you need
anything. I’ll call you tomorrow, love you always.”

 I
smiled for she was about the only family I had left. My mother passed away from
cancer when I was six, and my father died right before my eighteenth birthday.
I had an aunt and uncle back in Michigan, but I have not seen or heard from
them since my dad died. I always considered Kyle’s parents my family, but now
that we’re broken up, it would be more than awkward to talk to them.

I
made sure the door was locked. I turned off the lights and snuggled in my bed,
burying my head under the covers to escape the reality of my life, at least for
tonight.

Chapter 2

 

The
next few days I did nothing but stayed in my pajamas and concentrated on finishing
my paintings. I called work and told them I had the flu. They told me to take the
rest of the week off, which was something I didn’t have a problem with. I was afraid
I couldn’t afford it, but I needed to get my paintings finished and off to the
art gallery. I wouldn’t have been good company to anyone anyways.

I
made my third pot of coffee of the day and checked my phone to see if I had any
messages. Kyle had not made any attempt to contact me since he left. How does a
person just forget about someone after being with them for four years? A fire
stirred in my blood just thinking about it. The way I saw things I had two
choices; I could sit in my tiny apartment and let my life die out, or I could
suck up what happened and go out into the world and live. I opted to go out and
live. I was not ready to die yet; I had too many things I wanted to do.

I
frantically cleaned my apartment, which was long overdue, and I was ashamed
that I let it get that way. I took a garbage bag and started tossing everything
out that reminded me of Kyle. I was determined to rid this apartment of any
sign of him. By the time I was finished, my little home was practically bare.
The shelves in the bookcase that housed pictures of me and Kyle now sat empty
reminding me of the emptiness I felt in my heart.

I
finally showered and stood in front of the bathroom mirror. I took my hand and
wiped the steam that formed over it. I looked at myself for the first time in
days. My ice blue eyes, which Kyle used to tell me, reminded him of the sea,
looked tired with bags that formed underneath them. I ran a brush through my
long blonde hair, and then fingered mousse through it, so it dried wavy. I put
on some makeup to try to hide the fact that I’ve been depressed and locked in my
apartment for a week. I stepped into my favorite jeans and was surprised they
were loose in places they never were before. My 5’7” size 4 body appeared to
have shrunk a bit since the breakup. I tore through my closet for my favorite pink
shirt. Once I was ready, I took in a deep breath and called a cab. It was time
to step out into the world and start my life again.

BOOK: Forever Black
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