Never Without Hope (Sacred Vows Book 1) (19 page)

I clung to her words. If anyone could make it through, I could. I
’m strong.

Now if I could just believe that and put it in to practice in my life.

As if she read my mind, Jenna said, “Remember, Hope, you can do all things through Christ who gives you strength.”

In the middle of her sentence I heard that familiar beep from the call waiting service. Since I had no way to know who called on the other end, I decided to not chance it. I couldn
’t deal with another angry outburst right now.

But I peered at the number anyway, since my curiosity won out. The area code came from a Rochester number. I didn
’t know anyone who would call me from Rochester, unless it was James. But wouldn’t that be too soon after surgery? I decided to not check and let the call drop.

“
What’s that noise, Hope? It keeps cutting in to our conversation.”

“
Just my call-waiting.” I groaned inwardly. What if it was James calling? I couldn’t take any more criticism right now. I was already feeling overwhelmed.

“
Are you going to get it?” She sounded anxious.

“
They’ll call back.” Though I sounded confident, I wasn’t sure at all.

Truth was, I didn
’t want to know who called. I wasn’t ready to deal with James yet.

But in His time, God would make me ready.

He had to.

Chapter 19

I talked to Jenna for another hour as the maids zipped through my house and cleaned what they could. God bless them, they tried. I know because I watched them.

I popped in every few minutes while I spoke to Jenna on my cell phone, just to see what they were up to. Those ladies didn
’t even stop and take a break. At least I knew I’d get my money’s worth from their labor.

As our conversation wound down
, I started to say goodbye. The call waiting feature on my cell phone interrupted us again. This time I just decided to get the call. It was a local number and it wasn’t Tony’s. That much I knew for certain.

“
I’m gonna take this call, Jenn. Thanks for being there for me again.”

“
No problem. You know I love you.”

She hung up and I clicked over to the other line.
“Hello?”

“
Hope? It’s Pastor. I tried calling you from James’s hospital room earlier but you didn’t answer and I hate leaving voice mail messages.”

“
Sorry. How’s he doing? Is he going to be okay?”

“
He had angioplasty surgery. The surgeon gave him a stent to open the blocked artery. He needs to watch his cholesterol intake from now on. That blockage could’ve killed him. Anyway, they said he’s going to be released in a day or two. I talked to him and we both agreed that it would be better for him to stay with one of the guys from the church for now. I assumed you’d be okay with that.”

I hadn
’t realized I held my breath until I exhaled in relief. “Yes, that would be great. Thanks for talking to him about it. How did he sound to you when he talked…about us?”

“
I wish I could be more positive. He’s still hurt and angry. I’m sure you understand. But when he’s ready are you going to let him come home?”

I hadn
’t thought that far ahead. “I don’t know yet. I don’t want to live with an angry husband who won’t forgive me. We’ll just have to wait and see, I guess.”

“
That’s good enough. James was talking like your relationship had no hope of making it and I assured him that you both just needed time to work through things. He seemed to agree with my suggestion. I’ll keep in touch.”

“
What about Jimmy? Did he ask about him?” My throat tightened with emotion.

“
He couldn’t without crying, Hope. This whole thing has really torn him up. But I know his relationship with Jimmy is very important to him. Rest assured that he’s not giving up just yet. For your son’s sake, he’s willing to get counseling. From there anything can happen.”

“
Yeah, I suppose. What did he think of the flowers we sent?”

The pastor sounded genuinely surprised.
“You sent flowers?”

“
Yes. Didn’t you see them in his room?”

“
I saw some flowers in the trash can. Did you send them? I wonder if he knew.”

“
He’d know. I put from your…your…” I couldn’t finish the sentence. Loving family just wouldn’t roll off my tongue. In fact, I choked on the words. “I’m sorry, but it’s hard for me to talk about.” I sniffled and reached for a tissue.

My husband had thrown my peace offering in the trash. Our marriage, tossed out like the flowers I
’d sent. That hurt to think about, so I forced my mind to block it out.

“
I understand. I won’t mention it to Jimmy.” Pastor sighed. I could sense his frustration with our situation. But James could be stubborn when he made his mind up about something. He’d obviously made up his mind about me.

Jimmy stepped up behind me.
“Mom? Who’s on the phone?”

“
I’ve gotta go, Pastor. Thanks for calling.” I hung up and turned around. “Hey, Bud. Did you get a good nap?”

He shrugged.
“I guess. So the pastor called? Did he say how Dad was doing?”

“
Yep. Looks like your father is on the mend. He’ll be leaving the hospital in a few days to stay with a friend from church. He’s not ready to come home yet.”

“
Okay.” Jimmy smiled, then peered around the room. “Hey, this house looks a lot better already. Are those ladies still here?” He stepped into the back bedroom and answered his own question. “Yep. Looks like they’re almost done.”

I sighed and wrote out a check for the maids. Since they
’d finished in record time, I added a tip. After I paid them, I ordered a pizza and asked that it be delivered. I wasn’t ready to go outside or drive into town. Not with Tony still out there somewhere ticked off at me. I would rather be run over by a Mack truck than see him right now.

So I checked my e-mail as I waited for the pizza to arrive.

A message caught my eye. The sender was MAD AS HELL WIFE.

I knew I should just delete it, but my curiosity got the best of me, so with trembling hands I clicked on the message and opened it.

I feel weird writing to you after calling you so many names, but I have to know if Tony ever told you he loved you. That’s all I want to know. Should I be worried about my safety and that of my son? From one woman to another, please answer this question and I’ll try to put this behind me.

Though she didn
’t sign her name—and I still didn’t know what it was—I knew exactly who’d written the e-mail. Part of me felt sorry for her and wanted to help reassure her. I know. Sounds crazy, but I’ve always suffered from “nice guy” syndrome. Though in my case it was nice girl.

I also thought that maybe if I played the game with her then she
’d move on and leave my family alone. I just wanted this to be over.

That was wishful thinking, I know. But I had to have hope, and responding to her request gave me a glimmer. I
decided it was worth a try.

So I wrote back.

You have nothing to worry about. Tony never told me he loved me. I don’t think he ever did. I think he cared, but I know he loves his son, and though he made some poor choices, he would never do anything to hurt his child. Please don’t divorce him. If you have any more questions, you know how to reach me.

Within minutes I got a reply.

Thanks for writing back. One more thing. Tell me the truth. Did Tony go over to your house today to see you? He said he doesn’t know where you live, but I don’t believe him.

I wondered why she asked. Was she worried that he might try to see me again? And what about the note? I thought she wrote it. Did he just deliver it? That made no sense
…unless he wrote it himself. I reflected on what happened and remembered something. At first I thought I’d seen nothing but anger in his eyes, but now I realized he looked more sad than angry at first. For a split second he had even looked vulnerable.

Maybe that was why I felt the urge to hug him at first. I think my slamming the door in his face was what set him off. Maybe he
’d planned to talk to me but when I shut the door on him he’d gotten defensive. I guess now I’d never know.

The horrible name
—bitch—that he’d called me in heavily accented English resounded in my head over and over. Hurt or not, that was a terrible thing to call me. I’d never been referred to by so many degrading names in my life as I had in the past few days. Of course, I’d never done such a degrading thing with my heart and body before either, such as sleeping with someone else’s husband. At least Tony and I hadn’t done anything kinky, not that knowing that fact provided much comfort.

It was still wrong.

All of it.

Sometimes I still didn
’t believe I’d done it—didn’t feel like it was true. Like that wasn’t me, couldn’t be me doing something so obviously morally wrong, and enjoying it!

Not me, but the sin that dwelled in me, I guess. Because as I looked in the mirror I didn
’t understand how I could do that to myself, my husband, or anyone for that matter.

Yet,
regardless of what I’d done, it still amazed me how two people whom I’d shared my most vulnerable, intimate moments with could turn around and curse me out with such hostility. Call me a bitch—and worse.

I guess when you have strong feelings for someone
, betrayal would make you hate them all the more intensely. But knowing that didn’t provide me any comfort. My husband hated me, and Tony hated me. Heck, I even hated me at times. If not for God and Jimmy, I wouldn’t even try to work things out.

With a sigh, I pondered how to respond to her latest question. Might as well tell her the worst of it. I had nothing more to lose.

Yeah, he stopped by my house. But don’t worry. He just did it to call me a bitch and tell me how much he hated me. Why do you ask? Weren’t you waiting for him outside?

In less than a minute I got a response. I still couldn
’t believe I was having this conversation with his wife. It was almost surreal.

No, he got angry
, stormed out, and told me he was going to the store. Just like he had before. I was afraid he’d come see you again. So, please, just tell me the truth. Is it over between you and my husband? I need to know.

I tried not to read into what she
’d said. I didn’t need to entertain the notion that Tony still wanted me. That provided too much temptation. So I gave her one last reply.

Yes, it
’s over between us. I’m sorry I ever let it happen. When Tony told me you weren’t interested in sex, I felt sorry for him because the same thing was going on between me and my husband. I know you probably don’t believe me, but I truly am sorry.

She wrote back.

I believe you, but that doesn’t mean I’ll ever trust either one of you again. So I had lost interest in sex. That’s true. But that gave him no right to cheat on me. I don’t think I can ever trust him again. He hurt me too much this time.

This time? Had Tony done this to her before? Oh boy.

I’d rather not know, but something told me that I had not been Tony’s first romp outside of marriage. That notion made me feel like a real sucker. He’d duped me. Then I remembered how he hadn’t worn a wedding ring on his finger when I met him on the airplane. I’d bought his charm hook, line, and sinker. He’d known that we lived in the same town the moment I gave him my card.

I remembered when he
’d said, “I can’t believe you do this with me.” Like he’d planned it. He had mentioned going to my website and reading about me. Now I knew why. It wasn’t mere fascination with me as  writer. He wanted to know if he could bed me. And I’d fallen for it.

My eyes filled with tears. I couldn
’t believe I’d let him suck me in to an affair. That I was so needy that I’d believed him when he told me I was beautiful.

One thing I knew for certain, though, was that he
had
wanted me. His body wouldn’t lie. And I’d wanted him, too. If I was honest with myself, I still did. Better that he hate me than seek me out. I knew by shutting the door in his face that I’d done the right thing.

Now I wish I
’d never met him. Or talked to him. The ramifications from our sordid affair would never end. Over time they might lessen in intensity, but the stain would never be completely gone. And that grieved me.

Well, I
’d talked online to his wife way longer than I should have, so I let her know this would be our last conversation. Ever. My nice guy syndrome did have limits.

I
’m sorry that you can’t trust Tony. Obviously I can’t either. But don’t worry, I won’t be seeking him out. At first I thought maybe you should give him another chance, but now I’m not so sure. But please, don’t hate God because of me. And don’t expect me to keep talking to you, either. I just want to get on with my life. I don’t care to be friends, so please don’t write me. If I have to, I’ll change my e-mail address.

I hit send, then logged off. Any new messages from her would have to be deleted immediately. I could only take so much pain.