Free Second Chances: The Seahaven Series - Book One by Heather Rossi

is a hard pill to swallow.
    There was nothing wrong with staying home and having babies, and I thought that I might want to do that someday, but not then. That much was crystal clear to me. But Paul was non-stop about it, and pretty soon, partly because he was feeling inadequate at work, he descended into being emotionally abusive towards me. It's hard to recognize emotional abuse in your own relationship sometimes, like what really constitutes abuse rather than just nit-picking or nagging or put-downs, but when you see it so much on a daily basis at your job the signs are easier to spot.
    But I always held out hope that he would find whatever strength and confidence he needed to get back to being the way he was when we met, and that's what I kept clinging to and why I stayed. I even stayed after the Irene situation at dinner that night. It was the first time I had solid proof that something was very wrong with us.
    It was after we'd all eaten, and my brother and I were alone at the restaurant table talking about customers at his coffee shop and how crazy they were. Paul had gone out front to smoke and Irene was in the bathroom.
    “If I can't remember a guy's name after he's been coming in for a week, he'll stand at the register and give me hints until I get it. They want to be recognized so bad.” Cesar was laughing, drinking a beer, back when he could stop after drinking just one.
    I said, “I have a lady like that who calls 9-1-1 just to hear someone say to her, 'Is that you, Mrs. Parker? Are you okay today?'”
    “People want to be seen,” he said.
    I looked around the table and realized Paul and Irene were still gone.
    “I'm going to the bathroom. When Paul comes back tell him we should get going in about fifteen minutes,” I said. “Early morning tomorrow.”
    Cesar nodded. “Coffee?” he asked.
    “Decaf,” I said.
    I put my napkin down and headed toward the back of the restaurant to the bathrooms. On the way I passed a private dining room with old wine bottles lining the wall. Pretty room, probably lovely for a small party. As I passed I saw a flash of red inside, and a hand. Dark hair.
    I went around the bend to peek in, and inside I saw Paul and Irene pushed up against the wall together, mid-grinding kiss, his hand up her dress. I was so surprised that I let out a small cry and I stepped back, knocking into a table.
    A set-up water glass fell to the stone floor and smashed into a thousand pieces, and Paul and Irene looked up and saw me.
    Paul immediately came toward me, his hand outstretched to pull me in, not caring about the giant erection in his pants. Irene smoothed her skirt and her hair and walked toward me at the same time, apologizing. “Don't tell Cesar, Ellie. Please. I love him.”
    I was too astonished to say anything to either of them. I turned and walked fast to the front of the restaurant, past our table, and right out the front door into the night.
    I heard Paul behind me calling, “Ellie. Eleanor! Stop!”
    I heard Cesar asking, confused, “Sis?”
    I couldn't even think of what was soon to be my brother's pain, I could only think of mine.
    I got in the car and I drove away without thinking twice or looking back.
    And then, two weeks later, after much pleading and sorrowful tears and apologies from him, I went back to Paul. We saw a therapist, we read books that were supposed to make our marriage stronger, we looked each other in the eye when we were talking to each other. I tried to learn to respect him and have faith in him again, and he tried to be good. He really did try.
    But his being good didn't last long.
     
     

Chapter Thirteen
    After breakfast I drop my brother off at his apartment, and I ask him to give me any drugs he has so he won't be tempted.
    “I don't have anything,” he says. “It was just that one time with a friend. It was his stuff.”
    “Get rid of that not-a-friend,” I say. “Stay as far away from that non-friend as you can.”
    He promises he will, and