I always wondered what it would be like.

To see her again. To inhale her intoxicating scent of wild berries with a hint of chocolate.

I tried to imagine what it would be like to have her an arm width away. All I needed to do was reach out and touch her. Feel her soft skin against my calloused palms. To taste her sweetness. Catapulting myself into my addiction that is her and exploring all that I've missed. All that I've been aching for, longing for.

All I needed was to capture her soft lips and explore every ounce of alluring perfection she has to offer.

Lastly, all I really need is for her to look at me like I'm the man she loves. All I really need is her arms wrapped firmly around me - she gave the best fucking hugs. I'm sure she still does.

But my imagination was - is - wilder than I could have ever anticipated.

Touching her, tasting her, kissing her, holding her is forbidden.

Nefarious.

She belongs to another.

FUCK!

My wife belongs to another man!

My. Fucking. Wife.

"Telana, as in your wife Telana?" Dale Smith asks, quirking a surprised red brow. "The same girl that ran drunk and naked down the street in front of the police Chief on a dare?" He asks, chuckling.

I glare at him, remembering the time when we were sixteen and we all participated in underage drinking.

Some hot shot thought it best we play truth or dare and Lana being the wild firecracker, she chose dare. Some random hoity toity bitch had it out for Lana and dared her to do dumb shit which would get her arrested.

What bitch tits failed to remember is Lana knew these streets better than the fucking Chief.

I chuckle, remembering the astonishment on the Chief's face as we watched him. "Chief Wilson was so confused."

"Telana always confuckulated him," Dale chortles, taking a swig of his beer.

"She has that effect on people or she used to," I mumble before chugging my beer.

"How are you holding up?"

"I'm good," I lie, taking the last beer out of my fridge.

"She's moved on, man. Is she even aware of everything you've done to win her back?" He asks, running a nonchalant hand through his red curls.

"Fuck, it doesn't matter, and she'll never find out. Got it?"

"Got it," he raises his hands in surrender. "I'm not the one you should be worried about," he snorts, pointing at his gold wedding band.

"I never even thought of that. I forgot Sarah-Lynne and Telana were as thick as thieves," I sigh, practically inhaling my beer. "I need something stronger," I drop my empty bottle in the trash and grab my truck's keys.

"Then I'll need to remove this," Dale shrugs, adjusting his Chief badge proudly. "Heading to Tracey's?"

"Yeah."

"I'll see ya there," he salutes me, patting Hades on the head on his way out.

I lock up behind me and walk to my red truck, leaving Hades inside. A chilly breeze rolls in off the water, biting my exposed skin. As it nears eight PM, the night sky is a deep velvety blue canvas with a blanket of stars stretching far and wide, igniting a flicker of a memory to flit through my mind.

Lana and I used to search the skies for constellations while we laid side by side with our hands intertwined. We spoke about our wants, our dreams, and our future.

We made all these plans like we have been since she came riding into my life on the promise of forever. Stealing my world from me. It's been clear for years that my world no longer belonged to me. She stole it. Every inch, every molecule, every atom of it.

With a deep sigh, I run my hand through my tousled hair. I turn the key in the ignition, my truck rumbling to life. I put on the lights, and they illuminate my yard, reflecting off the wings of multiple bugs and I reverse.

I drive slowly past her parents' home and lo and behold. She actually listened. Shocking.

I attempt - keyword - to disrupt the trajectory of my thoughts from going further down the rabbit hole but I can't.

'Cause all I've ever known since the age of five, is Telana Ellis.

Her eyes - the bluest I've ever seen - captured the very essence of my soul.

My dad died serving his country when I was five, I was too young to fathom the pain and emptiness I was enduring. I was unable to comprehend the gravity of the dire situation. I couldn't make sense of my loss.

I was too young, but I know my world shifted. My role model, my hero, was missing and he was never coming back. That much I understood.

But Telana, she made my grief more bearable. She came skipping down the sidewalk ahead of her parents with her brown locks in pigtails and a woven basket on her arm. Her pink dress flowed behind her as her white sparkly shoes produced a tapping sound with every skip.

Her smile shone brighter than the sun that morning while the moving truck rumbled to life next to a flabbergasted, five-year-old me.

In that moment, my already tilted world shifted back into its natural rotational orbit expect it orbited her.

I know how this seems, how could a five-year-old possibly understand emotions so complex but I didn't. Not really.

All I knew at that stage was, she was my world. Her smile, with two missing front teeth, made my bad emotions dissipate. Seeing her, being around her made my hurt and emptiness much less noticeable.

Her folks welcomed us into their lives like we were already family.

Nathan Ellis became the father figure I was missing, and Jodi Ellis became like a second mother to me.

My point is, Telana had a massive impact on my life from the mere age of five. She made me believe in forever. She made me long for it.

She came riding into my life on the promise of forever. She vowed for better or for worse and she broke her promise.

Maybe it was I who pushed her over the edge.

Perhaps it wasn't her who broke the promise.

I can't fully place the blame on her for our demise. We're both at fault but I was willing to fight. I've been fighting. For her. For us.

I've fought to become the man she deserves and to provide her with the life she's always dreamt of. I'm still fighting.

Every.

Fucking.

Day.

I never gave up.

But she did.

She walked away from us. She gave up on us.

She moved on and got engaged. Fucking engaged.

But she's still my wife and I don't intend on signing the divorce papers. Not yet.

I pull to a stop in the parking across from Tracey's in Strand Avenue, located right next to a newly owned department store for locals and tourists alike.

I get out, lean against my truck, and inhale the salty air through my nose. I close my eyes, listening to the sound of the hypnotic waves crashing against the shore. One after the other.

The sound is enough to bring peace to my raucous mind but not my unstable heart, thundering excruciatingly with unease against my ribcage. I'd do anything to stop the unpleasant emotion of pain and uncertainty nestled deep within my heart.

Her presence has me shook but it also has me feeling almost complete again.

I've never felt like this before and it's scaring the fuck out of me.

Going forward, I don't know how to cope with any of the unknown emotions creating chaos on my already exhausted heart and mind. I'm afraid...

I'm afraid I'm going to fuck it all up by being a cunt. By being myself.

But that's the thing about Lana, she brings out the best and worst in me. Her presence both destroys me and restores me. And I'm willing to be destroyed a million times over if it means I get to fight for my wife.

I'm willing to shatter into a billion pieces if it means I stand a fighting chance. The odds seem to be stacked against me before I even begun but I've had seven years to fight every day to be better.

I've had seven years to train for this war. Every day in between was a battle, but it's all been preparing me for this moment. A moment I've dreamt of ever since she walked away.

I'll be damned and severely fucked in the head if I allow my wife to leave me for a second time without a fight.

"Alec, my man!" The loudest of the Turner twins Asher, hollers from across the road, blocking the entrance and exit to my mama's bar. "You gonna stand there all night like a lost fart or are you coming in to drink?"

I don't respond, taking one last look at the horizon. The illusion of endlessness spreads as far as the eye can see where the dark ocean meets the sky, bleeding together.

I breathe the salty air deeply in through my nose before I cross the road.

"I'm drinking," I say once I'm before the threshold. His hazel eyes spark with victory as he runs his fingers through his golden strands.

"Well, what're you waiting for?"

"For you to step aside."

"Right," he chuckles, stepping aside.

I hold the tinted glass door open before it closes behind Asher, and I walk into the bar. The lingering smell of various perfumes, colognes, and liquor wafts to my nostrils, tickling my senses. The hum of music and laughter fills the space, creating a lively ambience.

A lot of the people I see around on the daily occupy some of gleaming dark wood tables lining the left wall decorated with old signs ranging from alcoholic brands to Spanky's.

I nod in greeting, making my way to the old-fashioned bar. The wood is light, rimmed with gold and still shining as if it were new. Behind the bar is stacks of alcohol bottles lining dark shelves reflecting in a large mirror spanning the bar.

Hanging from racks is glasses - glasses I made - of all shapes and sizes for an assortment of drinks and cocktails.

Above the mirror, in the centre of the wall on top, is neon blue letters spelling out Tracey's. The neon lights illuminate the bar in a soft hue of blue, reflecting off the mirror.

Behind the bar is a middle-aged woman with ash blonde hair clipped back. The years have been generously kind to her or perhaps it's her genes.

Her grey eyes have fine lines in the corners from all the smiling she's been doing over the years; light frown lines linger on her forehead from all the days she couldn't distract herself from the thoughts of her deceased husband.

Light freckles dust across the bridge of her sharp nose, spilling onto her cheeks.

Her gold wedding band encrusted with small diamonds glints under the gentle lights hanging down from the wooden beams that make up the ceiling.

Her grey eyes soften when I approach her, a small, sympathetic smile curling her lips. "I heard," is all she says, grabbing a bottle of scotch. "Jodi called."

"Makes sense. You're as thick as thieves."

"Yes, we are," she beams. "How're you holding up?"

"I'm good, mama. Determined to fight for her but deterred by her moving on with her life."

"You still love her," mama states, replacing the empty bowl of peanuts.

"I've never stopped. I doubt I ever will."

"I know, Alec. But there's a line which can't be crossed with her. She is engaged to someone else."

"But she's my wife," I gulp down the scotch. It burns its way down my gullet, settling in my stomach.

Mama refills my glass, mulling over an answer. I can see the gears turning in her grey eyes.

"Don't make your wife into a cheater," mama says with a pointed look.

"Isn't she already a cheater? She's a married woman engaged to another man."

"I can't argue with that but y'all are separated and have been for seven years, darlin."

"Separated, not divorced," I say, sipping my drink. "Legally, we're still married."

"The gang is here!" Asher exclaims, interrupting our conversation and drawing the attention of every person here. Not that it's busy. The bar is quiet for a Friday night with a few regulars.

"Where's Jackson?" Dale asks, scanning the bar as he shakes Kaden's hand.

"Everyone's here except him," Asher smiles sheepishly.

Dale and Sarah-Lynne - his wife - approaches us and I stand, engulfing her in a warm embrace with a kiss to the cheek. Her chestnut brown curls tickle my nose as I pull away, her deep green eyes filling with hope and sympathy.

"Let's drink!" I say in the hopes of deflecting Sarah's look, motioning to Asher and Kaden Turner.

I hate fucking sympathy.

A/N: I know, I know. This isn't a very long chapter. I apologize for that. I try to make my chapters longer than this but I really struggled with this chapter. I don't know if it was the POV or where I am, mentally. But I'm getting there.

But truth be told, I judge myself way too harshly when it comes to my writing. I've recently started a new chapter and I've rewritten the beginning like four times already because it wasn't good enough.

I never want to give you guys shitty chapters. If it isn't good enough, I'm going to write and write until it is.

Anyhow, enough about me.

How are you guys doing? What's happening in your life? And is it just me or ever since lockdown eased and life started getting back to normal after covid, life is super busy and chaotic? Like there's just not enough time for anything?

Thoughts?

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Till the next chapter🤗