Forgotten Sweethearts - Bestseller

Chapter One

Quietly, my knuckles rapped against the wood before I reached down and turned the knob. Pushing the door open, I began to walk inside his office. My husband sat behind his large wooden desk, a soft glow against his face from the dimly lit lamp close by. His office filled with bookcases and family photographs. A couch pushed against one side of the wall and a TV in the corner for the nights he spent in here.

This was his usual spot when home, working and away from everyone.

He looked so handsome with those blue eyes I wanted to lose myself in and dark brown hair. For a moment, it was easy to forget that we were in a war against each other most days.

"The kids are asleep. I'm going to bed now," I said, interrupting him with a heavy sigh as I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned against the white wall.

Brody didn't bother looking up. "Good night."

I lingered, wishing things were differently. How I wanted to go over there, walk across the timber flooring and pull his swivel chair around; to sit on his lap with my arms draped over his shoulders and kiss or just talk about our day; and, to be close to him once again.

Paperwork scattered all around, his eyes were narrowed as he concentrated hard on whatever was on the screen. His fingers typing furiously on the Mac keyboard stopped. His head stayed bowed as his dark eyes glanced upwards. "Yes?" His voice low yet still held authority over me.

I felt uncomfortable in here. Awkwardness filled the room as I stood by the door. "Did you need anything before I go?" I asked, swallowing the dry lump in my throat as he just stared.

"No." Short and curt came his reply, and just like that, he was back typing away.

We rarely spoke about anything else other than the children or what our week entailed. As I went to close the door, I heard a disgruntled sigh. There was no need to say anything else. I left the room, making my way down the hallway to the children.

Lila was fast asleep, clutching her doll against her cheek as I pulled the light pink bed cover up over her shoulders to keep her warm during the winter's night. Her dark brown hair curled and splayed out against her pillowcase as she mumbled something incoherent and rolled from her side to her back. I couldn't help but just smile, wanting to sit in here forever and watch her.

At seven, she was determined but stubborn at the best of times with a huge imagination. Her daddy was wrapped around her fingers, his little princess. Noah, who was a year older, was the opposite. He was very laid back and easy to keep happy. He'd gotten that from his father. The children were both often mistaken as twins with their age so close. Noah wasn't much of a talker, either reading a book or outside riding up and down the driveway on his bike. Lila loved to talk about anything and everything.

I kissed her good night and then made my way across the hallway to Noah's room. The second book of Harry Potter on his face as he had fallen asleep reading again, I laughed softly to myself, placing the bookmark on the open page and leaving it on his bedside table.

I couldn't deny it. Brody and I made beautiful children. Biased or not, they were my life.

Kissing his forehead as my fingers combed through his dark, almost black hair, I stood up straighter, leaving his bedroom and making my way back to ours. I paused momentarily and stared at his office door once more. I almost went in again. He was in there, shutting me out and blocking me away. Deciding against it, I left.

Slipping into the shower, I began to lather body wash into my olive skin and clean myself. I loathed the way my body looked after having children. Twenty-seven and I loathed my body. I could lie and say that I kept my figure or lost the weight, but I hadn't. I had leftovers from Lila, probably some from Noah too. It was too easy to eat and enjoy the sugary sweet cravings from being pregnant, convincing myself that I'd work hard to wear it off once they were born. It just never happened.