From the Journal of Debbie Evans

In the evenings, I’d put together some dinner and do some work I usually brought home from the office. The only person I still really knew was Simon. My priorities didn’t involve getting out much and snapping up friends right and left. I didn’t have time for that. Sometimes it would give me a pang because I missed having a true friend. For years, it seemed my work was my only friend, but I secretly wanted something more.

At times when I just couldn’t hack it, I turned on some TV and searched for something good to watch. I hate to admit it, but I’m an avid watcher of The One, which is this Reality TV dating show. I always loved the show, but I was completely hooked during its last season. My favorite bachelor was Caleb, who found what he was looking for. Some of the couples don’t work out but strangely enough, many do. I hoped Caleb and his wife would be one of them.

It was a bummer when it was announced that the show wouldn’t be renewed again. Shortly thereafter though, a new show called Soulmates was set to air in its place but at a better slot in Primetime. It was being totally hyped up because of who the debut bachelorette would be.

I was totally stoked and addicted when it was Lenora Atherton on the show. Being a shameless bookworm, I’ve read every single one of her books and loved them all. Being one of my favorite authors, I always followed her and was quite familiar with her biographical details. She’d lost her husband and son in a plane crash and had left the public eye for a while to grieve and recover. I could only imagine how this poor woman must’ve felt. Recover, she did! She seemed to exude peace and compassion throughout her entire being. I know that sounds so corny, but I could sort of feel it as well as see it. I can’t explain it, but it’s true. Lenora was always so larger-than-life and seems to be even more so now. There is something about her that is…different.

I met her at a book signing one day after she’d finished with The One. We got to talking, and I felt like I was chatting with an old friend. She relayed a few stories about her lost husband and son, and I almost felt as though I knew them. I laughed when Lenora told me they were referred to as “The L Train” because all their names started with the letter “L.” She was a cheerful and funny woman with this lovely Irish lilt I loved listening to. After she autographed the books I’d purchased for that specific purpose, I impulsively hugged her and fangirled all over her again. She returned my hug, then, the strangest thing happened. She looked at me intently, said that my guitar would never fail me, and that we would meet again one day. Had anyone else said something like that to me, I’d have wondered if they’d recently escaped from Bellview or a similar place. But with Lenora, what she said somehow seemed…well…right, for lack of a better word. Yet another thing I couldn’t explain.

Her work after her husband and son’s deaths changed. Oh, she could always spin a wonderful yarn, and there was grit to all her stories. However, after dealing with such a tragedy, the tales held a bit of darkness while the couple struggled to finally unite in the end. Some character or another would also experience a devastating loss, and I could tell she knew how it felt by the way she wrote the scenes. I can honestly say I cried a lake of tears every time I read her later work.

As Lenora went through her season on Soulmates, I silently rooted for her to find what she was looking for. Apparently she did when she chose handsome Tyrone Landgraab as her soulmate. My heart went all soft when I saw them together. He was truly gone over her, and it seemed she felt the same but couldn’t admit it until the end since she had to keep things fair. Their wedding was televised, and I blubbered all the way through the whole thing, especially when they spoke their vows. I had a sense it was some sort of ritual, but then, I’m no expert in the paranormal. I’m just a regular woman trying to make her way in life. Still, it grabbed me, and I couldn’t forget it, nor could I forget the beautiful music they made together.

I heard they live in Aurora Skies, but I don’t hold out much hope in ever running into them even though Lenora had once told me we would someday meet again. Tyrone, being the son of the legendary Amadeus Mozart Landgraab and Lenora being who she is, would certainly be bookended by bodyguards when they went anywhere. Still, it was rather interesting to know there were very famous people living in the same town as me.

A few weeks into my new job, I was elated when I could finally afford to buy a sculpting bench. I’d had to sell my old one after my divorce from Shane was done because I needed the money. I screamed in joy when it was all set up, and I got right to work. It had been a while since I’d done any sculpting whatsoever, so I started off in clay to see if I still had the knack. As it turned out, it was like riding a bike, and I found I hadn’t lost my touch in the least.

When I next looked at my watch, I couldn’t believe how much time passed while I sculpted. I grinned at my current project, did a little dance around the room, and grabbed some beer. I wanted to celebrate, but I sure hated to celebrate alone.

I

I knew I probably should have left well enough alone, but I couldn’t resist calling Simon and telling him my exciting news. “Hey, kid, that’s great! Did you start banging something out yet?”

“Oh, definitely,” I said, laughing. “Feel like coming over for a beer and some friend time?”

“You bet. I’ll be right over.”

As I waited for Simon’s arrival, I recklessly gulped down some more beer and was on my way to being quite plowed by the time my doorbell rang. He came inside and greeted me with a bouquet of yellow roses. “I stopped at the florist’s and got these. I thought they would look nice on your table,” he said, grinning at me.

“They’re lovely. Thank you,” I said. I sniffed deeply of their fragrance, hugged him hard, kissed his cheek, and then found a vase to put them in.

“So, show me this work in progress, kid,” he said when I came back into the living room.

I grinned like a five-year-old who’d had twenty straight days of Christmas and pointed. “It’s not much right now, but it’s coming along.”

“You’ve got real talent, Debbie,” Simon said seriously. “I’m impressed.”

I blushed and smiled a little shyly. “It was always a hobby, a way for me to let off steam.”

“You ought to think about maybe selling some of your pieces,” he replied.

I blushed again and ducked my head. “Oh, I don’t know about that, but I thank you for the compliment.”

Simon let it drop, and we moved on to other things. “So, how about another dance lesson?” I asked him.

“Works for me,” he said jovially.

I was proud of how much he improved since our last lesson. “You’re doing great, Simon,” I encouraged. He still stepped on my toes once in a while, but he was definitely getting better.

Before I knew what was happening, Simon’s lips were on mine, and we were kissing passionately. My first instinct was to pull away, but I just couldn’t. My arms held him tighter, and I responded to his kiss, parting my lips to give him further access.

It was Simon who pulled away, causing the fireworks to abruptly cease. He stepped away from me as if my very presence burned him. “Debbie, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

I turned away to hide my own embarrassment. “It’s okay, and you’re right. It shouldn’t have happened.”

“I should leave,” he said, but there was no conviction in his voice. It was as if we were magnets irresistibly being pulled together. His lips claimed mine again, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, holding him desperately to me.

I honestly can’t recall us going into the bedroom, but that was definitely our next stop. Simon took me with such a fiery passion I had never known before, and I returned fire with fire. I cried his name as we came together, our desire no longer able to be held back. He was like a drug to which I constantly needed a fix. When it was over, I drowsed in his arms, feeling completely sated. At the time, neither of us considered any kind of consequences to our actions. We just knew we needed each other, and coming together was unavoidable.

Some time later, I felt him stir. I cried out when he moved to get out of bed. “Debbie, I’ve got to go,” he whispered.

I sighed in regret, threw the covers back, and got up to stand in front of him. “Simon, I know what you’re thinking, and…I take full responsibility. If I hadn’t guzzled so much beer and invited you over, this wouldn’t have happened. I…”

He put a finger over my lips. “It’s not your fault alone. I’m partially to blame, too. What we’ve got to try to do is put this behind us and keep our relationship strictly platonic.”

“Yes…yes, of course,” I said.

Promises of being platonic went out the window when we leaned in for another kiss. I was a moth drawn to the flame that was Simon. This time, it was I who pulled away. “Listen. I’ll make you something to eat real quick and then maybe you’d better go.”

“Okay, yeah, you’re right,” Simon said.

We were silent as we sat at the table with our food. Simon ate thoughtfully while I picked at my meal, feeling like the lowest form of life ever to exist. Simon was married and had a child on the way. We shouldn’t be doing what we did. I know I’m not exactly the nicest person in the world, but there are things I swore I’d never do. One of them was to have an affair with my boss and another was not to be a home wrecker. I couldn’t believe I’d gotten myself into such a predicament. Yet, now that I was there, part of me didn’t want to extricate myself from it even though I knew what we were doing was terribly wrong.

We held hands and kissed again after we cleaned up the dishes. “I really should go, Debbie. I’m sorry.” He hurried to his car, and I felt utterly bereft. I wanted nothing more than to just throw myself on my bed and weep endlessly.

I knew sleep was out of the question, so I took a shower and went back to work on my sculpture. I went at it like a woman possessed, trying to forget the irrevocable deed Simon and I had done.