All Roads Lead Home
All Roads Lead Home
Copyright © 2015 Mary A. Wasowski
Cover Design by RE Creatives
Editing by Joe Marron
Formatting by JT Formatting
All rights reserved.
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products, bands, and/or restaurants referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
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Sometimes you will never know the true value of a moment until it becomes a memory.
Other Books by Mary A. Wasowski
I’M A RUNNER. Not an athlete who competes in races. Not one who does it for exercise or enjoyment. No, I’m the worst kind of runner, you know the type. The kind that fled her life in the wake of a family tragedy, an unbearable loss that can weigh you down. What am I saying? It still does. It’s a kind of loss that binds suffocating chains around your heart. Feelings cut off and numbness set in, all of which left me empty.
I chose to love my family from a distance. I chose to shut down and compartmentalize my feelings. I wrapped them up in a pretty box tied with a bow on it. I chose selfishly, and my grief paved the way to my new life. I never considered what my leaving did to my family and friends, who all remained behind when I ran and never looked back.
I said I would move forward and carry on with my life. Be happy. Marry the man of my dreams. Have babies and become a mom. Just move forward. Not carry the pain of losing the one person who knew me best and I loved the most. I promised I wouldn’t live in the past and struggle to change the things that can never be changed.
I lied.
I broke my promise to him.
Yes, I promised you all of those things, but you lied too.
You promised to fight and never give up. You were getting better. I felt it when I looked into your eyes. You had a future waiting for you beyond those cold, sterile hospital doors. What did you know that I didn’t? You always protected me from anything that would bring me sadness. You knew this would break me, so you made me promise to not fall apart like a jig-saw puzzle. Shattered pieces of me would never heal, never allowing me to be whole again. I would be left alone without you.
When I shared my feelings with you, you laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. I smacked you on your arm and told you to stop making jokes, but you continued to laugh. In the end, I gave up and joined in. I could never stay angry with you, not even for five minutes. We were always connected, you told me this often. It was a sibling thing.
You said no matter what happens, I would always have mama and daddy, Wendy, and of course your best friends, Shane and Jagger. They were like brothers to me, but then our circle of friendship changed when Jagger and I found love. He was your best friend and my first love.
My only love…always.
I never really knew if in fact that was true, because I ran. I ran across the country and convinced myself I was doing the right thing for my future. I left broken hearts in my wake. I was consumed in my own loss that I never cared to look beyond my own pain. I channeled it and used it for strength. I focused on graduating from law school and being the best at what I worked so hard to accomplish. I couldn’t fight for something that was beyond my control, like cancer…your cancer.
It was a Monday. The sun had not risen on the new day yet. I remember having a restless sleep the night before, haunted by your image over and over again. Your handsome face was dancing around in my dreams. I wanted to reach out and touch you, but yet, you were so far away. As I laid asleep to hold onto you, I could feel your spirit leaving the physical world and preparing for what’s next to come. I could hear your voice so vividly clear, but also felt your pain. Not a physical pain, but more of an emotional one. Something that no one could ever be prepared for.
I awoke and jolted out of my sleep with the piercing sound of my phone ringing. Instantaneously, my heart began to pound. I knew what I was about to be told and who was on the other end of the line.
This was my Monday, five years ago. To most it meant the beginning of a new work week. A new day.
When the life I was so certain of having just died along with you.
I hate this day. It is the one day I allow myself to feel your loss. As I clutched your picture to my chest, my tears broke through the barriers I had so carefully put in place. They simply fell, and I did nothing to stop them. I was alone and lost in the memories of you. I felt the walls closing in around me and I needed to get out of here.
I’m a runner.
The worst kind.
The type that says…
I’ll see you soon, I’ll call you later
, but really only uses those lines to be polite.
I’m sorry I didn’t keep my promise to you.
I’m sorry I ran, but you lied too.
You left me.
“WHAT ARE YOU doing here this early on a Monday?” my assistant shrilled at me as I lifted my head up from the mountain of legal briefs I was reading through.
“The last time I checked, this was my office. You see the name plate on the door?” I replied sarcastically and my tone was sounding borderline bitch.
I took a breath before speaking again to her, “Good morning, Roxy.”
She half smiled back at me. Roxy, being the amazing assistant she was, read my mood before another word was spoken.
“The usual, Ms. Fairchild? No calls or visitors until you say otherwise?”
“Yes, I just need a few hours to myself. Court is at nine thirty. If all goes according to plan, we will be celebrating by lunch time.”
I knew this case was already won. I worked my legal assets off for months and dazzled the senior partners. They all knew the hours I clocked for this trial, and so did I. There was no way I wasn’t going to reap the benefits from all of my hard work.
“Understood, boss. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Roxy…” I called out.
“Yes, Ms. Fairchild.”
“I’m sorry. I would love a cup of coffee…and please call me Tenley.”
She nodded to at least two of my requests, but I wasn’t sure if she would be addressing me by first name anytime soon. She was openly chastised in front of many lawyers by one of the senior partners a few months back. When I made partner, my title and stature changed here at the firm. I was friendly with most of the staff, but when I received my own personal assistant, I thought I could still maintain the same easygoing pace I always had. The higher ups frowned upon that and wanted me to behave like them. Cut and dry, black and white, no color in between. My assistant works for me, not the other way around.