Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Wynter
I ’m on cloud nine , I think to myself as I sit on the patio, drinking water with orange slices for flavor. The afternoon sky is as blue as I’ve ever noticed, and the cotton ball clouds look strategically placed for a painting. And all I can think of is how lucky I am.
Lucky to have a husband like Scott.
Lucky to have parents who have loved me and supported every wild whim.
Lucky to have a baby growing inside me.
Lucky to have a career as a freelance writer and photographer.
Wrapping both hands around my water glass, I breathe in and just relax in the glow of the spring sunshine. At first, I thought having a baby meant I had to quit doing the things I love. I just have to find things safe for our baby girl but that still gets my adrenaline pumping.
Sex wit h Scott always does the trick.
I’m writing a book about Kissing Springs, the romance capital of the South. Southern Charm Magazine hired me to write an article last year and when I did, the response was overwhelming, so Scott talked me into publishing a coffee table book.
I’m working with all our friends to highlight their businesses such as Barron’s Bourbon Distillery that Beau and Vanessa own. Axel and Ali own a little bed and breakfast by the Springs. But there are so many places—The Two Fourteen Restaurant, Love Lock Bridge, the caves at the gorge, the wedding venue at the distillery, the horse farms, and the drive in. I can’t stop thinking about everything Kissing Springs and the surrounding areas have to offer. Our little town is truly a hidden gem.
Leaving this town has never been a consideration for me. I love everything and everyone here. On the other hand, since Scott took a job with a pharmaceutical company, he is rarely in town since he travels all over the state.
My phone rings, and it’s one of our best friends Drake. “Hey.”
“I’ve been knocking on the front door. I brought you a turkey and avocado sandwich from Magee’s.”
“Does it have cheese on it?”
“What?”
“The only way I’m letting you in is if it has cheese.”
“You want me to go back and have them add cheese? You hate cheese.”
Chuckling, I walk back inside to the front door, and I see Drake through the glass. As I open it, I say, “Not anymore, but you’re lucky Scott bought cheese last night.”
He hugs me, then hands me the bag. “Do you think after the baby is born, you’ll hate cheese again?”
I snort. “I hope not because I was missing out.”
“We tried to tell you.”
I grab him a Coke and refill my water, as I grab a piece of cheddar cheese from the fridge and layer it on my sandwich. “Have you already eaten?”
“Yeah. Had lunch with my parents today. They… umm… well, they’re getting a divorce. Married for twenty-nine years and are getting a divorce.”
His words hang heavy between us. Our parents have been best friends since they were in high school. “Oh God, I’m so sorry,” I say, as I surround his waist with my arms and bury my head in his chest.
Drake and I were always forced together when our parents had dinner parties and cookouts when they played card games like Rook or Euchre. And I’ve always felt like he was a little brother to me, being two years younger. Now, he’s part of our friend group.
He strokes my hair as he strains to say, “All my life, they were my definition of the happy couple. Always were together, supporting their children. They admitted the last few years have been rough because they don’t have anything in common anymore. Somewhere along the way, their life became about their kids.” His voice trembles, and I can’t shake the feeling that he’s about to break down. I know I would.
I wish Scott were here. He would know the right thing to say. I’ve always been the funny one, and Scott’s the responsible, empathetic one.
We’ve endured several tragedies in our young lives like when my best friend Jessica’s boyfriend died. We wer e overwhelmed with pain and now, I do know how to be a good friend, but Scott is quintessentially better in these situations.
I tilt my head up to look at him, and he leans his forehead down to mine. It feels awkward, but I don’t know how to react.
“I feel so… alone.”
Whispering back, I say, “They’re still your parents. Plus, you have me and…”
Before I can get the word Scott out of my mouth, his mouth drops, and the plump flesh of his lips presses against mine. It’s soft and gentle.
And wrong.
I push him away, touching my lips.
Stepping backward, he says, “God. I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry.”
I cross my arms over my baby bump, unable to process what just happened and how I’m going to tell Scott or if I should tell him. My heart feels like it’s dropped from the world’s tallest building, and I feel sick.
He’s just hurting, right?
“No, I’m not going to lie anymore. Whatever happens, happens. I won’t live a lie like my parents. Wynter, I’ve been crushing on you since fifth grade, when you wore that striped halter top to poker night. God, I’m such a jerk. You’re my best friend’s wife.”
I look down at the floor, swiping my foot over the dark-mahogany hardwood. My voice is barely audible because I never think about what I want to say… I'll just say it. “You’re confused. And you’re one of my best friends too. You’re hurting and need someone, but Drake… I love my husband , and nothing will ever change that.”
Unable to look him in the eyes, I lift my chin and say, “Umm, I have to take some photos.”
Scott told me years ago that he thought Drake had a thing for me, but I waved him off like a referee waving off a basket. Nerves prick through my body and not in a good way.
Nausea rolls in my stomach.
Why didn’t I leave earlier to take photos? If I did, then none of this would have happened.
Then I recall the incredible sex I just had with my man.
“I need to go.” I walk into the office, unzipping my camera bag to check the batteries, then I swing it over my shoulder and inhale.
“Wynter,” Drake says in a low and brittle voice as his fingers skim my hand.
“Thanks for the sandwich.” I slink by him, reaching across the kitchen island for my purse, discouraged and desperate for some fresh air. Clicking the remote, I unlock my Toyota Highlander and head straight for it. I can’t look at Drake.
As I back out of the driveway, Drake leans against the stone column on the front porch. His head, hanging low. If he had worked nightshift at the distillery, he wouldn’t have been stopping by the house.
I shouldn’t feel guilty but for some reason, I do. I didn’t lean into the kiss or melt in his arms, but I froze when his lips touched mine. There was a split second—a brief, hanging breath—before reality slammed into me, and I pushed him away.
Am I a terrible wif e?
It’s the first time my lips have touched another man in five years. As gentle as it was, it did nothing for me. Not one thought of wanting more. My knees didn’t wobble, proving I love my husband more than anything in the world, because believe me, Drake is one beautiful man.
Before I realize it, I’ve stopped at Love Lock Bridge, The French Kiss, and the gazebo to take photos. Then I drive out of town, heading to the gorge to get my photos of the Blue Mountain Gorge at sunset. I roll down the windows and let the sweet Kentucky air shred my hair. When I reach a spot to park, I type out a message to Scott.
Hope the surgery goes well. I love you. There’s something I need to talk about when you get home. And since you’re in Lexington and are going to pass Bojangles, I wouldn’t be mad if you brought me a chicken biscuit for my midnight snack. You’re the best man I could ever ask for. So glad you waited on me to figure it out.
I read it before I hit send, not wanting him to think something is wrong. Scott said he would be home late so he’s probably still in surgery.
Drake’s kiss invades every part of my brain as I hike through the trail toward the most picturesque spot of the gorge. Once when we were in high school, Scott, Jessica, Mark, Vanessa and Beau and I hiked to this exact spot. It was hard to reach, but I remember Scott saying, “Let’s interlock our arms like the Barrel of Monkeys so no one slips as we go down.”
I scoot my butt onto a smooth boulder about six feet wide, removing my camera and lenses from the case. No matter what I do, I can’t concentrate. Finally, I pick the wide-angle lens. My intention was to photograph the forest, and the river, capturing the colorful shadows at sunset. But right now, I need to get lost in the horizon.
The setting sun transforms the gorge from the greens and browns to a colorful pastel painting. Leaves drip with gold, and the shutter of my camera is the only sound I hear. I wander down the trail to capture the magnificence of these hills from below. The yellows turn orange and pink within minutes, and I push the kiss to the back of my mind. I steady myself with my back foot on a rock while I tilt my head back and take the photos from a rare angle.
Looking at the images on my camera, I tweak a few of the settings and hike a few hundred feet since the amber hues have moved, now dancing across the rugged cliffs. These majestic hills soothe my aches. It’ll be hard to tell Scott that one of his best friends kissed me, but I’ve always been honest, and I’m not keeping secrets from my husband.
The nature of the gorge whispers the answer to my problems. I sigh, completely absorbed in the breathtaking beauty of this gorge. My word of the day flashes in my mind.
Lucky to have this gorgeous view.
Lucky to be the one who captures its essence.
Lucky to be in a marriage where we tell the truth.
I adjust my lens to catch the drifting streaks of the sunset. My camera clicks, finally getting the money shot, as a strand of purple sneaks between the trees. I smile as I review the photo, and my foot slips on the mud. I tumble backward, and my hands desperately reach for anything to stop my fall. My camera momentarily wraps around my neck, and panic rushes through me. “Scott. My baby,” I yell.
The landscape and sky spins around me as branches and brush rip at my clothes and skin. My heart pounds in my ears, a wild drumbeat of fear, as I frantically grasp for anything to stop my fall.
A pain so sharp pierces through me when my head meets the unforgiving ground. Birds flock against the lavender sky, swirling above me. Then they fade out to black.