Two marriages, a bucket full of dreams and a pile of broken hearts.
She’s not sharing her name. She’s been judged enough.
Once, she had it all: a supportive husband, lovely children, and a prestigious career revitalising failing businesses in the wake of Ireland’s recession.
When her friend Isobel suggested she take on a new job in their tiny rural community, she didn’t expect to fall in love.
Now she has become the other woman, the marriage wrecker, the cheat, and the betrayer.
When the illicit relationship ends, she’s stuck between the ruined affair and a crumbling marriage. Jobless and bereft, she must try to salvage what remains.
Will talking to Isobel help pick up the pieces or shatter their lives forever?
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EXCERPT:
I wonder whether Isobel would be sympathetic to me if it were anyone else I had fallen in love with. Either way, I feel a need to say to her, however far she runs or wherever she runs to, it will always be the same. Even across the sea, even in her own safe homeland, someone somewhere is sleeping with their friend’s husband, or their wife’s friend. She can’t hide from this. It is strange how I am still so shocked to hear of every other story.
As the friend I used to be to her, before I wanted to take her husband for my own, I want to warn her:
Dear Isobel,
Even over there in your homeland, in America, Land of the Free, you are not safe from cheats and liars. They are in every corner of the world. Even there, even where you feel safe on your home ground, there will be men who ‘take up’ with their wife’s friend, and break hearts, and make promises and break them as quickly. For when one promise is kept, another is broken.
I want to warn her also that, if, as she seems to want to hear and Charles seems to want to say, it all meant nothing to him at all, then,
Dear Isobel, dear, dear Isobel, surely, if it meant nothing, he will do it again.
I believe it is better to risk everything for someone who means everything than to risk everything for nothing—for a mistake. I became my best friend’s biggest mistake, for which he has said he is sorry, but sorry, by that point, is just another empty promise.
Dear Isobel,
If he could hold me in his arms and tell me how much he loved you; if he could kiss me; and tell me how much he loved you; if he could take me in his arms after a weekend away with you, kiss me, hold me, touch me, and tell me his weekend with you has shown him how much he still loved you, then why, oh why was he holding me in his arms?
Author Bio:
Jinny was first published in Horse and Pony magazine at the age of ten. She’s striving to achieve equal accolade now she’s (allegedly) a grown up. She secured a publishing deal in December 2020 and her first two novels will be released by Creative James Media in 2022.
Jinny teaches English as a foreign language to people all over the world, which gives her an endless source of new inspiration for stories. Her home for now is in rural Ireland, which she shares with her husband and far too many animals. Her two children have grown up and flown the nest - mostly. She quite likes to shut the door on them all and write.
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1 comments:
Sounds like a good read.
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