SEVER, Jane, Melissa [e book reader .txt] 📗

CONTENTS

Blurb

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Epilogue

Arrogant Fiancé

Other Books by Melissa Jane

Other Books by T.L Smith

SEVER

T.L Smith & Melissa Jane

Copyright 2019

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, real people, and real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the Author’s imagination and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, organizations or places is entirely coincidental.

All rights are reserved. This book is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the express written permission of the Author. All songs, song titles and lyrics contained in this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.

Editing by Swish Design & Editing

Proofreader by Contagious Edits

Cover design by Sarah Paige at Opium House Creatives

Cover image Copyright 2019

BLURB

One man’s wife is another’s obsession.

 We had a love I thought could never be broken. But I was wrong. We weren’t as strong as our vows once promised.

 Dark secrets and vicious lies, they tore us apart.

They cut too deep, leaving open wounds.

Pain is something that should never come from the man you love. Forgiveness, understanding, tenderness, yes. But never pain.

But the fact remains. He is my husband and I am his wife. Perhaps he should have remembered that a year ago when he committed his first sin against our marriage. And perhaps then, I wouldn’t have fallen for the devil.

A devil who had me in his sights from the very beginning.

A devil who swore to never let me go.

1

H e looks at me with an apathy that causes my hands to ball into tight, white-knuckled fists. His stare, loaded with contempt, has me itching to slap his five-o’clock shadowed cheek. But worst of all, the ever-formidable look of indifference has me pulling the sheets higher while I allow my already hurting heart to further break into tiny, irreparable pieces.

If I could count all the ways I love this man, I would. But it’s tiring, so fucking tiring, because I can’t bring myself to want to remember the reasons why I still love him.

So, I’ve given up.

But let the record show, he gave up first, and I hate him for it.

He let the love we’ve shared turn sour, and it’s all by his own doing. He took all I had to give, my heart, my passion, my life, and he held it in his hand and squeezed his long fingers around my vulnerability until everything oozed between the cracks.

I miss the feel of his hand resting on the small of my back, a gesture to let me know we were a team no one could challenge. How his lips would crush mine with a primal urgency he’d barely contain throughout the day.

And now?

Urgency is a thing of the past, and my husband is no longer a team player. He exited this marriage over a year ago when he concluded we no longer required the fundamentals to make it work.

There are no tender moments.

No kissing.

No fucking.

Not even a whisper of his fingers brushing mine.

We simply exist.

He ignores my efforts to regain his affections. My perfect hair and makeup go unnoticed despite being to his particular taste. My lasered, smooth body remains unseen by his now dispassionate eyes. I can’t recall the last time my husband lusted for me. His hunger to claim my body and mind was once uncontrollable, and his desire to bring me to my knees craving more until I fell limp at his side came to a crashing halt. Like a light flicking off, so did his taste for anything me.

No explanation.

No remorse.

He left me cold, unsatisfied, and unloved.

And now I’m left to wonder what had gone so terribly wrong that I deserved to be abandoned in the dark without a hint of a clue. Not only did he switch off his love, but his communication became non-existent.

When it first happened, I remember the many nights I broke down at his feet, pleading for answers, and he would look as though the words were on the tip of his tongue, like he wanted me to understand. I even saw anguish, his own hurt, a pain I knew nothing of before he’d shut down. And then his eyes would glaze over and indifference set in.

It was then I stopped pleading.

My desperation turned to anger and my anger morphed into my own indifference. One he didn’t question or care for.

He hasn’t asked for a divorce. The word has never left his perfect lips.

Despite everything, I still love him.

I went through our seven-year marriage thinking he would be my last love, but now everything is crumbling around me and there’s fuck all I can do to stop it.

Shawn steps out of the shower, a towel wrapped low around his waist revealing perfectly sculpted abs and a V-line I used to love running my tongue over. There isn’t an inch of him I haven’t explored and vice versa. Water glistens over his tanned skin, and when he eventually turns to me, he catches my roaming eyes. Perhaps my own indifference is a work in progress because he still has the ability to suck me in.

His eyes lock onto mine and I hold my breath as he moves to his side of the bed. His