A Corner of Her Heart (Begin Again Book 1) Read online




  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  A Corner of Her Heart

  By Claire Yezbak Fadden

  Copyright © September 2016

  by Claire Yezbak Fadden

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For permission, contact the author at www.clairefadden.com

  ISBN: 978-0-9976141-4-5

  Editor: Melissa Ringsted, There for You Editing

  Book Cover: Diolinda Monteiro

  Published by: Amaris Publishing LLC in the United States

  Disclaimer

  This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Dear Reader,

  I often found myself in tears as I wrote (and read) A Corner of Her Heart, the first book in my Begin Again series. Monica learns that the answers we pray for aren’t necessarily the ones God sends. I hope you enjoyed Monica’s story enough to want to meet her sisters Julie Rafferty and Kate Wylie, each with her own unique story of inner strength, family bonds and deep faith.

  Email me at [email protected] for book discussion questions and to share how Monica’s story touched your life.

  Dedication

  Always for Nick.

  My family Shawn, Jake, Seth, Lisa, Rachel and Windley. Inspiration, enthusiasm and unconditional love was never in short supply.

  Acknowledgments

  I've read many authors’ acknowledgement pages and wondered why they thanked so many people. Could there really be that many folks who helped them finished their tome? I now know the answer is a huge YES.

  The road to publishing this book started many years ago with family and friends having more faith in me than I had in myself. Some people provided large chunks of the puzzle, other folks' pieces were smaller, but just as critical. Without them the final picture would be incomplete. My first thank you goes to Sharon C. Cooper, who, I believe is in the business of making dreams come true. This would-be novelist would have given up long ago without Sharon’s gentle prodding, endless support and occasional kick in the butt.

  I’m indebted to my earliest reader and truest fan Kim Yezbak. Margaret Mary Stevenson More, thank you for your insight, opinions and tireless faith in my quest. Carol Schoenherr, you are all right by me. Esther Pearson, my thanks for you just being you. Elaine S. Payne, I'm finally using the Waterman you gave me so many years ago "to autograph" my books and Laura Moore Vickery, at your suggestion, I’m still reading, voraciously. I’m especially grateful for my friend Judy Herbert who lived on Lantana.

  Sending appreciation to Yolanda Barber whose original enthusiasm for this project kept me going and to Sharon Bay--that writers conference you sent me to so many years ago has finally paid off.

  Lastly, this novel is a work of fiction. Any errors, mistakes or missteps are my own.

  About the Book

  Monica Morgan finally lands the job she covets—stay-at-home mom to her four sons. Her joy is short-lived, however, when a casual comment leads to the discovery of her husband’s infidelity. The news sends her reeling, grasping for understanding and skeptical of everything she once thought she knew. While she struggles with the deceit and questions her faith, her youngest child receives a devastating diagnosis, plunging her into deeper despair.

  Unsure of how to move forward, Monica must reevaluate her options and determine what truly matters most. But will her decision ultimately destroy her family or will it make them whole again?

  Prologue

  Monica Morgan spied her husband, Brad, chatting with his boss, Greg Baylor, BayRock Tech’s owner and CEO. In moments, Greg would announce Brad’s promotion to president. Catching Brad’s eye, Monica winked. He smiled and lifted his glass as she sipped from her champagne flute, soaking in the festive atmosphere.

  Am I really here in this beautiful place? An oversized chandelier glistened in the soft light of the Phoenix Grand Ballroom, and a harpist played gently in the background while she made small talk with Greg’s wife, Margaret.

  Monica could hardly believe this day had finally come. The endless weeks Brad spent out of the state, away from her and their sons finally paid off. This was their night to celebrate.

  “Have you met?” Margaret said to a young woman hurrying past their table, interrupting Monica’s blissful thoughts. “Monica, this is Samantha Stewart. She works in our New Mexico location.”

  Monica placed her glass on the table. “Nice to meet you.” It was as if the room instantly turned quiet when she accepted the perfectly manicured hand extended in greeting. She swallowed hard, struck by how the young woman’s hazel eyes contrasted against her curly, chestnut-colored hair. This woman had never changed a dirty diaper or scooped nacho cheese sauce at a little league snack bar. Suddenly the slinky black dress Monica had slithered into ninety minutes ago, tightened in unflattering ways.

  “Pleased to meet you,” Samantha said, diverting her gaze to where Brad stood.

  There was something about this woman. Something …

  Her name seemed familiar. Could she be the co-worker Brad referred to as Sam? He never mentioned she was a woman.

  Monica suddenly knew why.

  “She’s about to become a bride,” Margaret remarked. “Show her the ring, Samantha.”

  “It’s lovely.” Monica studied the solitaire diamond resting on the woman’s finger. “When is the wedding?”

  “In a few months,” Samantha replied, her gaze searching the room.

  “Congratulations. So you work with Brad?” Monica glanced at her husband. He stared back. Was that panic in his eyes?

  “Yes, I do. Please excuse me,” Samantha said quickly. “I need to find Jeff, my fiancé. The program is about to start.”

  “Of course.” Monica smiled weakly and reached for her champagne flute.

  Calm down. Brad would never cheat. There was a reason why he hadn’t mentioned that Sam was a beautiful, young woman.

  Monica raised the glass to her lips, but the flute slipped through her fingers, spilling into her lap.

  “Oh dearie.” Margaret leapt into action, patting Monica’s lap with her napkin.

  Before Monica could form her next thought,
Brad was at her side. “Are you okay?” He placed the empty glass on the table.

  “I’m fine. Let me go to the ladies’ room to dry off,” Monica said in a rush, her throat feeling as if someone had their hands wrapped around her neck. “I’ll be right back.”

  Instead, she headed toward the parking garage, pausing long enough to yank off her stiletto sandals. She ignored the ache caused by the wire-like straps that had cut into her ankles.

  “Monica, wait up.” Brad trailed several feet behind, pleading for her to slow down.

  She lengthened her gait, ignoring the garage’s uneven pebbled floor poking the soles of her bare feet. Why did I even purchase the stupid shoes? she thought, now angry at her plan to accentuate her legs. Brad’s eyes had popped when she first arrived, pleased at her sexy appearance. Now Monica wondered if other reasons had caused his surprised expression.

  She should have worn sneakers. Sneakers were stable. High heels made you wobbly. That’s how she felt—wobbly.

  Monica’s chest heaved, her breaths coming in short spurts as she kept up her rapid pace. She had wanted to look special for Brad. But who was she kidding? Sexy wasn’t the look for a mother of four. Samantha made that obvious. Samantha Stewart. The person her husband had been referring to as “Sam” for the last four years. Her heart ached as she swiped at the tears streaming down her cheeks.

  “Monica, for God’s sake, stop!” Brad yelled.

  She heard him gasping for air, getting closer. She scurried between the parked cars, her pulse pounding in her ears. She couldn’t talk to him right now. Maybe never.

  “Monica.” His hand clasped her arm just as she reached their car.

  Jerking out of his grasp, she dug in her purse for her keys. When she looked up, she hardly recognized Brad’s face. Lines of tension creased his forehead, his mouth taut, as though awaiting a prison sentence.

  “Some surprise, huh, Brad?”

  Brad grabbed Monica by her shoulders and pulled her to face him. “Baby, what is going on?”

  “You know what’s going on. So don’t play stupid. Let go of me.”

  “Not until you tell me what’s wrong. What are you running from?”

  “Not what. Who.”

  “I don’t understand.” Brad shifted his stance. He understood.

  “I’m running from Sa-Samantha.” The name caught in Monica’s throat. “You call her Sam. I call her your mistress!”

  “It’s not what you think.”

  Tears filled Monica’s eyes. That’s what they all say. “Just get away from me!” she ground out.

  Brad stepped closer and reached for her arm.

  Pulling back, Monica swung her hand across his face, her palm stinging. “I said, get away!”

  Chapter One

  One month later

  Monica gazed around the marriage counselor’s office immersed in bright colors and whimsical art. Four weeks ago she would have never guessed she would be there, discussing her husband’s affair. Hoping to repair the irreparable.

  The music of Miles Davis, Thelonious Monk, and Duke Ellington played in the background. Laura Ekker, the therapist, had taken great pains to avoid the sterile, professional trappings of her profession. Still, the relaxed atmosphere did little to relieve Monica’s pounding heart. She slipped a lock of hair behind her ear and stole a glance at Brad.

  Her husband fidgeted in the chair next to hers, checking his wrist watch as though he had somewhere to go. He was freshly shaven, his straw-brown mustache trimmed and his haircut tailored above his ears fell to the side. Some of Brad’s friends were beginning to bald, but his thick, straight hair generously covered his pate the same as the day they first met. He had put on a few pounds, but still possessed the height and agility of a football receiver.

  The couple faced Laura Ekker, waiting for her to begin their first session. The fiftyish marriage and family therapist sat across from them in a matching upholstered wing chair, furiously jotting down notes. Monica’s younger sister, Kate, recommended Dr. Ekker, whose Ph.D. in clinical psychology qualified her as a specialist in life after adultery. Or so her website claimed:

  Adultery is the result of a long trail of unresolved underlying issues. It is a serious problem in a relationship, but it is not the cause; nor does it have to be the end of the relationship.

  Monica hoped the affair wasn’t the end of her seventeen-year marriage, but she couldn’t see how she would overcome Brad’s betrayal.

  Dr. Ekker cleared her throat, finally turning her attention to Monica and Brad. “You’ve taken the first step, probably the hardest step, in reclaiming your marriage.”

  Monica’s lips stretched, like taffy being pulled, revealing a nervous smile. “I can’t believe we are here. Under this circumstance.” Monica diverted her gaze to Brad then back to Dr. Ekker. “We have problems, like every married couple, but I thought we’d worked through them.”

  “What kind of problems?” Dr. Ekker asked.

  “Life really sped up about six years ago.” Monica twisted the wedding ring on her finger. “When BayRock opened a new facility.”

  “Bay Rock?”

  “The company I work for,” Brad volunteered. “We manufacture electronic components.”

  “This is when your marriage began to change?” Dr. Ekker grabbed her pen but didn’t write.

  “For the better, I thought,” Monica said. “Brad accepted a promotion as operations manager for the new Arizona-New Mexico region. And I quit my job.”

  “Is that something you wanted?” Dr. Ekker asked.

  “I wanted to be home with our sons. Our youngest, Bodie wasn’t born yet.” Monica’s stomach churned at the image of her five-year-old complaining of achy legs as she dropped him off at kindergarten that morning. “With Brad earning a higher salary, I could stay home, take care of the kids and maybe even find a little time to paint.”

  “You’re an artist?” Dr. Ekker clicked open her pen and wrote a short sentence.

  “Wanna be,” Monica said.

  “She’s too modest.” Brad glanced at his wife with pride in his eyes. “Monica’s paintings are inspired, especially her plein air works. A full-time job and chasing after three rambunctious boys didn’t leave her much time though.” Brad paused. “Not until I brought in more money.”

  “You took the promotion so Monica could—”

  “That was part of it,” Brad interrupted. “She wanted to be home. I wanted to provide for our family. The promotion was great, except for the travel.” He dropped his chin to his chest.

  “You live in Avondale, right?”

  “That’s correct,” Monica replied. “Every other week Brad flew to New Mexico. He was always busy training employees, monitoring inventories, increasing sales …”

  “I had to make the region successful. Otherwise, management would have closed us down.” Brad raked his fingers through his hair. “My promotion and my larger salary would have disappeared.”

  Monica continued. “He was gone a lot. More than I expected. That’s when everything blew apart.” Tears filled Monica’s eyes. “That’s when Brad’s affair started.”

  ***

  Brad Morgan let his gaze cut to his wristwatch. Geez, another thirty minutes of this. He glanced at Monica, but she didn’t seem to notice. Her brown eyes, fixed on Dr. Ekker, widened every time she heard the word adultery.

  He leaned against the chair back even though the fabric itched his neck. His gaze floated to the office window. His mind wandered alongside, recalling a phone call with Monica a few months earlier when his life was filled with a different chaos, the kind you glean raising a family. While they had discussed the day’s events, Brad had imagined his five-foot-five wife without clothes, tossing her head so that her shoulder-length dark hair cascaded to the side. Those days on the road had been tough. How happy he’d been once he arrived home each night.

  “I’m glad to see you so relaxed and smiling, Brad.” Dr. Ekker’s voice pierced his thoughts and he straightened in his seat
. “Are we thinking about the same thing?’

  “I doubt it,” Brad replied, no longer grinning at the memory of Monica waiting for him. “I was thinking about how beautiful my wife is and how sorry I am that we’re here.”

  Dr. Ekker leaned back, her face blank.

  “I don’t mean here with you. I mean that because of me, we have to seek marriage counseling. I’m sorry.” He turned to Monica. “I’m truly sorry.”

  ***

  “Everything changed about four years ago,” Monica explained, without responding to Brad’s apology, “when my husband hired Sam Stewart.”

  When Monica grew silent, Dr. Ekker gestured for her to continue. “Brad said this new employee would relieve some of the demands on his time. He wouldn’t have to travel so much and put in so many long hours.” Monica closed her eyes tightly. “Instead, Sam needed more and more of Brad’s time. I kept telling myself that this Sam fellow would be up to speed soon, and Brad would travel less.” She opened her eyes and stared at Brad. “But that didn’t happen. Those routine two-to-three-day business trips stretched into four and five days.”

  Dr. Ekker prodded. “How does Sam play a part in your current situation?”

  “Sam is short for Samantha. Samantha Stewart. Brad’s lover.” The truth spilled out like shattered crystal. Brad loved another woman. Monica’s temples pounded, and her heart sank at the cacophony of emotions competing for attention inside her soul. Anger. Humiliation. Hurt. Guilt. Was she the cause of Brad’s affair? Was all this pain somehow her fault?

  Monica forced herself to continue. “I started wondering if something was wrong the night I suggested a family vacation to New Mexico.”

  Brad had been silent and somber.

  “Do you recall the event Monica is discussing?”

  “Yes.” Brad quickly glanced at Dr. Ekker then back to the floor. “Why are you making a big deal about this? I thought the kids would rather go somewhere else. That’s all.”