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He knew. He knew about his son. Hell, that son of a bitch had an entire family living somewhere else! And from the look of them in that picture, they sure as hell look a lot more intimate than we were.
I consider yelling at this woman and making a scene. I consider questioning her until she answers all my questions about whether she knew he was married. Hell, I even consider punching her in the face.
But I don’t do any of those things.
Instead, I hold my head up high and make a B-Line straight for the door. At that moment, I vow to never cry another tear for my deceased husband or any of his secrets, which unlike him, didn’t stay buried.
Chapter Two
Andi
Ibelt out the words to my favorite Bon Jovi song with the windows down as I fly down a country road.
Usually, I would worry about the judgmental stares I’d get from people in other cars who could hear me. But I haven’t seen another car for probably about an hour now. Besides, around here, no one knows me, so what the hell do I care?
That’s a great way to make a first impression, Andi.
Needless to say, after the funeral, I was upset. No, I waspissed.I went home and immediately started throwing all of Michael’s shit in trash bags. Either I’d pitch them, or his mistress whore could come to get them. Either way, I wanted it all out of my house.
A few hours after the funeral ended, Michael’s mother knocked on my door to see if I was okay. Cheryl and I had always been close. When I was a teenager living in a group home, Michael and I became friends, and she took pity on me enough to become a foster parent so that I could move in with them.
She was the mother I always prayed for, but I had no idea how to greet her at that moment. Michael was still her son, after all.
When I let her in, she told me all about what she had found out about my husband’s double life.
His “sales” job, which forced him to travel all the time, turned into a work-from-home type of job years ago. He just lied to both of us, telling us he was always on the road.
Even after getting rid of all of Michael’s things, everything reminded me of him. Our home. The park I see every day on my way to work. The movie theatre we would go to all the time.
Everything.
My mind was always asking what was a lie and what wasn’t. Was any of it real? Did he stop loving me at some point? Did I do something to push him away?
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed something new. I needed a change.
So, I threw the names of all 49 states (I left out California since that’s where I was running from) in a hat and pulled one out.
Tennessee is what the tiny, white slip of paper said. I pulled up rentals in “The Volunteer State,” and one stuck out to me.
It’s in a small town called Grady. Grady happens to be my maiden name, so it seemed like fate that I would find a cute rental in a place sharing the same name.
So, here I am, driving across the country to get to my new home. I packed a few things in a duffel bag, and the rest will be arriving later today via a moving truck.
With every mile that I drive, my stomach gets more and more knotted. Andi Nicholson is not impulsive, and the fact that I just uprooted my life to start over completely is practically giving me an ulcer.
But I need this. I will never be able to truly live my own life with the thought of Michael hanging over my head. I wouldn’t be able to move on living the same way we once did.
“In two miles, turn right,” My GPS says, pulling me from my thoughts.
It’s about damn time. I’ve been on this same road for who knows how long. The listing said Grady was a small town, but I’m wondering how small exactly. I mean, I haven’t seen any mention of it on any road sign.
I turn right in two miles, and it tells me my destination is less than a mile down the road on the right-hand side. I see a bunch of cows out my window, which makes sense since the house I am renting is apparently on a cattle ranch.
A laugh escapes me at how ridiculous that sounds even in my head.
Andi Nicholson is going to live on a cattle ranch.
Before I moved to California with Michael, I spent my childhood in Chicago. To say I’m a city girl is the understatement of the year. Now, here I am, surrounded by nothing but nature. There are fields everywhere, wide-open skies, and the view of the Smokey Mountains in the distance.
