Imperfect Love
Authors: Isabella White
Tags: #romance, #erotica, #pregnant, #contemporary, #couples, #soul mates, #love at first sight, #new adult, #heart ache
Imperfect Love: #1 The 4ever series
Copyright © 2015 Isabella White
Photography: Regina Wamba from Mae I design and Photography
Cover design: Sandra Valente
If you purchased this e-book from anyone other than Fire Quill Publishing or a licensed FQP reseller, you should be aware this e-book is stolen property.
This e-book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Fire Quill Publishing
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All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
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Manufactured in South Africa.
First Fire Quill publishing edition July 2015
ISBN
:
978-0-9946536-3-
5
CONTENTS
DEDICATION
To my best friend, Thea Smith-Richards; the inspiration behind Holly’s character. Your light shines even in death. You taught me so much in your short time here on earth, and you inspired me. I will miss you till the day when we’ll see each other again.
xoxoxo
Isabella
First and always, thank you to my Father who lives in Heaven, Who once again guided me through yet another story. I couldn't have done this without You. I will always, always love You, until the end of time.
To my family; Heinrich, your love and patience with me while I spent endless hours writing these words has made me only love you more. I couldn't have done any of this without your loving support.
To my two beautiful girls, still too young to delve into mommy's world―one day you will know why some of the play dates had to be postponed. Love you beyond what words could ever describe.
To my mom, sister, mother-in-law, dad, and Vinique―my twin in so many ways―thank you for your support and words of encouragement, for listening to all my ideas and helping me to carry on when things got too much.
To Hillery, my ghostwriter/editor/friend. Although the stories are mine, your words make them so much stronger.
A special thanks to my content and copy editor, Sandra Valente. Where have you been all my life, woman! Your love for words, sentence building, descriptions, and emails after emails with questions upon questions has definitely made me a better writer. I absolutely love your ability to look beyond an editor's perspective and see what the reader would question and want to see more of. Your descriptions have made Imperfect Love, better, stronger, and a real page turner in my opinion. I will treasure your friendship forever and look forward to working on more projects with you.
To all my proofreaders. A big thanks for diving head first into another story of mine.
To Fire Quill Publishing, and the team, you are simply the best and your hard work and endless support will always be treasured.
To my cover designer/photographer, Regina Wamba from Mae I Design, and the models who gave an amazing visual to my story, Ripp and McKenzie, it was a real honor to work with you.
Thank you all so much. Words cannot express how I truly feel.
To Dr. Morgan Clond who is currently working in Israel, a new journey for me has started and I’m so glad that you are going to be part of it. You really made the medical side of this novel so much more. Thank you so much for taking the time out of your busy schedule and delfing into this make believe world of mine. If only there was something like the P47 then so many women might not have to suffer.
Lots of love,
Isabella White
OTHER NOVELS IN THE 4 EVER SERIES
SECRET LOVE (2016)
ENDLESS LOVE (2017)
Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.~Emily Brontë
HOLLY SCALLANGER LOOKED AT THE EMAIL IN HER hands.
That son of a bitch.
How could he do this to me, and only a week prior to our wedding?
She had given him everything. Had stood by him in his time of need, having fulfilled the vows she hadn’t yet made before God. And what had he done? Her fiancé had slept with the woman he’d promised never to speak to ever again; Donna Sinclair.
That little stunt had ripped her heart out and tore it into a million pieces, like a wolf with a fresh kill. He had decimated her without a second’s thought.
Their relationship was the price demanded of one tramp in a push-up bra, and paid with the wink of an eye.
Donna had always been a thorn in her side, the kind that wedged in deep like a tick, burrowing in deeper and deeper the more you tried to remove it.
She should have left him when that bitch first made her appearance in their lives, but she had innocently believed his rotten tongue.
Not only that, she had taken into her heart the poison he’d fed her with every “I’m sorry” and “It will never happen again”. She’d believed that he loved her more than anything in existence, and that he’d made a mistake.
Tears welled up in her eyes and her stomach knotted.
But if he loved me, why'd he sleep with that skank only a month ago?
A part of her knew that Brandon was aching for Donna. They were the same, both liars... cheaters. They belonged together. She just wished Brandon had had the balls to break up with her. Maybe she could have saved all the money she had poured into their farce of a wedding.
Better now than too late,
she thought.
She should have known that Brandon Morgan would never change his ways. There was a saying her mother always used: “A fox may change its fur, but never its color.”
Holly sat in front of her computer and began composing an email to Donna. She pounded away at the keys until the screen before her illuminated a vicious, scolding letter. Pausing, she deleted it, re-typed different cuss words, but eventually deleted that, too.
“You’ve won,” she said out loud, as her fingertips tapped with resigned beats on the letters that spelled the two words on her keyboard and pressed the send button.
Composing herself, she gazed around the polished wooden desk that housed her computer. As her eyes swept over the books and various notes, they rested on the small, black device like a beacon of her misery. Her phone was going to ring in the next couple of minutes and she knew who it would be. Brandon, of course.
Holly wasn’t stupid, knew the two secretly messaged each other, but she’d been too in love and blind to truly see Brandon’s weakness.
As she looked around the small bedroom, her eyes focused in on the dark wood of the closet door. Her suitcase was pushed way to the back.
Unable to control herself, she kept running over and over in her head what the hell she was going to tell her mom. God knew, Jane Scallanger didn’t have money but had nevertheless spent—more like wasted—a fortune on a wedding that would never take place.
Pulling her legs up to her chest, she silently made a promise to herself and to whatever god happened to be listening. She would repay every penny, even if it took the rest of her life to do so.
Holly got out of the plush chair and gingerly walked across the soft carpet. Grasping the metal handle, she opened the closet door with a flourish and pulled out the suitcase. Flapping it open, she began arranging all her clothes haphazardly. Lucky for her, it was a big suitcase. When she bought it, she’d known the size would come in handy one day, she’d just never thought that it would be used for the situation she now found herself in.
Pausing in her frantic packing, she fell back onto the white carpet, letting her hair swirl around her, reflecting the tornado of emotions swirling within.
How could he have done this to me?
They’d had so many dreams. They could have been such a great couple, if he would have just kept his dick in his pants. Heaven knew she loved Brandon, but she refused to marry Donna, too.
Tears began streaming down her cheeks, leaving a hot path that burned into her very soul. She inhaled deeply, trying not to lose it as she pushed her hair back. She knew that as soon as his Audi pulled into the driveway, he was going to start with his begging again. Especially now, a week before the big day.
She had to stand her ground. She owed it to herself and deserved so much more than that two-timing whore. Yes, Holly was sick of double standards; if women were called whores when they slept around, men should be labeled in the same manner.
Suddenly, her phone began buzzing frantically. She reached out a hand to grab it off the floor, where she’d placed it when she started packing, and looked at the polished glass screen. A beautiful picture of him and her smiling, greeted her.
Damn... we look so happy.
“Yes?” she answered.
“Hey, Holls. What are we going to eat tonight?” his deep honey voice asked.
Just hearing his voice caused a wave of emotion to roll through her body, which almost sent her phone flying toward the closet’s door. She knew he wasn’t calling about the evening’s menu. Donna had probably called him as a result of the message she’d sent half an hour ago.
“You know what? Eat whatever you want to eat. Hell, eat Donna, for all I care.” Angrily, she punched the red disconnect button on the screen.
Her phone rang again a second later, the same picture flashing on the screen. “What do you want, Brandon?”
“You okay?” he asked.
“Am I okay?” She gave her ‘you’re unbelievable’ snort, wanting to hang up on him yet again.
I’m so sick and tired of playing this game with him
.
“No, I am not okay, but I will be, Brandon,” she bit his name out with pure venom.
He cussed. “Is it that time of the month again?”
“You know what? Go fuck yourself. I can’t do this anymore… you, you sleazeball, and two-timing piece of shit.” She took a deep breath. “I’m leaving you. And I think it’s better we do this now, rather than waste two years of our lives with each other.”
“Wh-what? Just wait for me, Holls, okay? I’ll be right there. I love you, baby.”
She knew the minute she spelled it out for him that he’d cottoned on to the fact that she knew he’d slept with Donna, and then the lies would start all over again. He would begin by telling her his soppy version, and ultimately manipulate her into staying by telling her that it would never happen again. Except, that this time, she had proof.
The dead line signal beeped in her ear before she could tell him not to bother.
If she wanted to be rid of his sorry ass, she had to move fast. Where he worked was only a twenty minute drive to her place, and in an emergency, ten.
Holly got up off the floor, grabbed the rest of her stuff, shoved it into her suitcase and hauled it to her pathetic little Beetle, unceremoniously chucking the suitcase into it. She didn’t own anything else, because he had everything. Another thing he’d manipulated her with throughout the years.
She backed out of the garage of the million dollar mansion her now-no-longer-to-be-daddy-in-law had bought them as a wedding present three months earlier. She knew she would never find that kind fortune again, but money couldn’t buy happiness, she knew that now.
Her phone was on the passenger seat.
She had no idea where to go, except to Bernice’s, her best friend. They’d had a falling out a month ago, and although Bernie had warned her to not go crying when he hurt her, she knew her friend hadn’t meant it in that way.
They had been friends since they’d been in diapers. Bernie would understand. She’d tried and failed to tell Holly, repeatedly, that Brandon was a dick, but Holly hadn’t listened. At that time, the reality of not being with him had been unbearable.
Now the only thing she saw whenever she closed her eyes, was Donna on top of Brandon in some classy hotel he’d never taken her to.
Holly resolutely dialed her friend’s number, thanking God she hadn’t deleted it when he’d asked her to. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway, as Holly knew Bernie’s number by heart. The phone rang three times before Bernice answered.
“Never thought I'd hear from you again,” Bernie huffed in an unimpressed tone.
“I did it,” Holly blurted without a greeting, and then promptly began to cry. She’d kept most of her tears back for way too long.
“What?” Bernie sounded surprised. “Where are you now? Shit, I hope you’re not driving.”
“I had to get away. I only have my suitcase and no idea what I’m going to do!” she bawled.
“Calm down, okay? Pull over, or better yet, go to the mall. I’ll meet you at Madley’s. Just don't drive, please,” Bernie begged.
“Okay,” Holly uttered, so softly it was barely audible. She disconnected the call, dropped her phone onto her lap and quickly wiped the tears from her eyes and face before she ended up causing an accident. Thankfully, the mall was a five minute drive from their home. She didn’t think Brandon would go looking for her there. At least, she hoped he wouldn’t.
Holly ordered a regular coffee, since Madley’s was a non-licensed coffee shop, and waited for Bernie. She went over in her head how she was going to beg her for forgiveness and ask to be given another chance, and possibly a room until she was able to save up enough money to afford a place of her own.
The waiting was crucifying. For Bernie, it wasn’t a five minute drive to Madley’s like it was for Holly. It was more of a half an hour drive.
As she waited, her mind wandered back to the day she’d met Brandon. She remembered how his blue eyes had set her heart on fire in a downtown bar. Neither of them were supposed to have been there that night, but fate had intervened. And as far as Holly was concerned in regards to fate—it didn’t fucking exist.
She should’ve seen the signs. She wasn't even fond of blond guys, but for Brandon she had made an exception. His personality had transformed all his flaws right before her eyes and turned him into her dream guy. At the time, she never had a clue he was a living, breathing replica of her father. Just thinking of the comparison upset her.
Charles Scallanger
, she whispered, the name leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. She hated men like her father, yet there she’d been, on the verge of marrying his carbon copy.
Growing up, Holly’s mother had worked two jobs, one to put food on the table and pay the bills, the other to pay her father’s ass through university so that he could fulfill his dream of becoming an architect.
These weren’t men, they were boys who never grew up. And what had Charles done when his ship finally sailed in? He’d dumped her mother and married his blond bimbo secretary, Gabriella, who he’d known for less than three months.
No, Holly didn't want a life that remotely resembled theirs. In the end, her mother hadn't gotten her father, and to this day still lived alone.
Maybe there was no such thing as a good husband. Maybe they were all cheaters, and there would always be a
Donna
.
The two men she once loved and worshiped had proved that. What was said by many was true; you always ended up marrying your father. She almost did.
Feeling herself being pulled down into a spiral of depression, Holly forced the good things about Brandon to the front of her mind. He had really made her feel like a million dollars at times, but the reality of those emails to Donna quickly made her feel like she had never been worth a dime to him.
How could I have been so stupid?
As much as Holly hated Donna, she had to admit that the bitch was really good. She’d had her sights set on Brandon ever since the day they’d met on that stupid website everyone was making such a big fuss about. Perhaps, stupidly, Holly had thought love would prevail and conquer that devil spawn. Thank heaven she found out sooner rather than later that love didn’t have that kind of power. It didn’t conquer all if there was no respect and trust.
She pulled the printed email out of her purse and read through it again. There wasn’t any forwarding email address with her name attached to it. And it wasn’t from Donna either, but somehow it had managed to get to her, a week before their wedding. There were even entries that went way back, even after he’d promised he would never speak to Donna again. She’d read through those a million times.