Hope's Last Chance Read online

  It’s times like this when I question our decision to marry so soon. Surely we could have raised the baby without being husband and wife. We are often asked why we didn’t wait a little while. In my heart it felt right. I would have done anything to be with Chance, and the beginning of our relationship was less than a rocky situation.

  My father was dating Chance’s sister, Buffy, and he’d moved into their pool house after being falsely accused of a heinous crime. He was twenty one, while I was only seventeen, just having graduated high school. To say our relationship was forbidden wouldn’t even touch the surface, but it only created a love that neither of us could deny. Trust me, we both tried. Chance wanted to do the right thing, even if it was breaking my heart. Back then I would have fought anyone who tried to stand in our way. I was fearless and determined. Now that we’re married life has settled. I’ve changed.

  Losing my mother to cancer crushed me. There are no words to explain what it feels like to be raised by a beautiful, strong individual, only to have her battle to live on a daily basis. It took a long time for me to be able to come to terms with the fact that she’d never hold her grandchild. She’d never see me walk down the aisle, or spend another summer with our toes in the sand. She’d never be that phone call away when I was having a terrible day, or the comforting hug when I felt like life was overwhelming. Since she raised me without much help from my father, it’s difficult to assume he can ever take her place, but it doesn’t stop him from trying.

  We’ve worked hard to rebuild everything we lost when he abandoned me. He’s a different person, and perhaps I can appreciate that I got to have my mother all to myself in her last years on this earth.

  His new wife Buffy is my best friend. At first I thought she was a money hungry floosy, though past events only proved I couldn’t have been more wrong about her. She’s resilient and loving, a perfect match for my father.

  I’m in tears as I scan the dark room knowing he’s no where in sight. This can’t be good. Either I left him at the stadium or he’s gotten himself into some kind of trouble. This wouldn’t be the first time his temper has resulted in him doing things he’ll later regret.

  Instead of getting back in my vehicle and searching for a needle in a haystack, I slump down on the living room micro fiber couch and run my hands over the soft fabric in hopes it will help keep my mind distracted enough to relieve the worry. When it doesn’t help, I stand and pace. My eyes focus on our family photo, taken just weeks before. Chance is holding Faith. She’s looking up into her Daddy’s eyes with a bright matching smile. The man in this photo seems to be dwindling away, and I can’t, for the life of me figure out how to help him overcome this. Chance used to have goals aside from baseball. He was in law school, hoping to be a part of a firm my father uses for his business purposes. His determination is what helped me further my own education to become a teacher. I don’t attend full-time on account of having a toddler, but within the next two years I’ll have my degree.

  The point is, we both had a shared vision about where we would be in the next five years. As each day passes I’m concerned we’re no longer on the same page, and it hurts to know we could be headed down different paths. My focus is on my family, caring for our daughter and taking care of the large house Chance purchased for us with his professional baseball salary. It’s nothing lavish as far as other athlete’s home, but more to our taste. The cape cod is homey with the master bedroom on the lower level. The nursery, office and large bonus room above the attached garage, which will eventually be a playroom for Faith, are all located on the second floor. Our house has a partial finished basement that Chance has been working on in his free time. When we first moved in it was all he focused on, but now I don’t think he’s been down there in the past month.

  Chance and I inherited some furniture from my father and Buffy when they remodeled, but most we picked out together. Going with a neutral color scheme, we decorated each room to flow with the other. Our bedroom is done in blacks, reds, and grays, with large white crown molding trimming the walls. I feel like a princess in our four poster bed that used to get plenty more action than it sees now.

  Thinking about it depresses me more. As time ticks by I can’t get over the emptiness I feel wondering what he’s doing, and why it’s keeping him from reaching out to me. I once thought I was his rock – that he could come to me with any problem and we’d find a solution as a team. It’s disheartening to know he hasn’t reached out, so my mind wanders on the possibilities of why.

  He’s been drinking entirely too much, sometimes becoming so belligerent it’s a miracle he makes it back to where he’s supposed to be staying each night on the road.

  I have my doubts, some I hate admitting. In my heart I want to believe I’m all he could ever need, but I’d be a fool if I thought that were true. At the end of the day I’m just one female in a world full of many.

  Chapter 4

  Roxy drives a little Volkswagen Jetta. She’s the one with the large blue eyes. Her friend, Becca sits in the backseat taking selfies where the back of my head is visible. I’m not against getting in a photo with her, but if she’s too scared to ask I won’t offer it.

  We’re a few miles out of the city of Baltimore before we stop at a pub. I’ve never been here before, but Roxy assures me she knows the owner and they don’t officially open for a few more hours. I’m unsuspecting as we enter the establishment, but once we’re in inside I realize this isn’t a running business, at least not during the types of renovations that are currently ongoing.

  A few construction workers are busy framing up a wall that’s been severely damaged by fire, while another guy carries boxes of what I suspect are his stock of booze toward a set of stairs.

  “You sure we’re allowed to be in here?”

  Before I get a reply, I see the same guy with the box stop and head in our direction. “Hey sweetie. I wasn’t expecting you to bring friends to help out today.”

  Roxy turns and sort of flashes a guilty grimace. “Yeah, so I forgot to mention it was my father’s bar. Just go along with it and he’ll let us hang out. He probably won’t even recognize you, so use a fake name,” she whispers.

  My cell phone starts to buzz and when I pull it out of my pocket to find it’s Hope calling I turn it on silent. I can’t talk to her, not right now, not while in this awkward situation. She’d get the wrong idea.

  Roxy’s father stands in front of me and looks me up and down. “Who might this be?”

  I extend my hand. “Pete, sir. I’m friends with your daughter.”

  “You know anything about construction?” He questions.

  If he only knew I spent a good amount time in that occupation. I shrug to play it off. “Maybe a little.”

  “For now you can help me carry this liquor upstairs to keep it from getting smashed. I can’t afford to lose anything more than I already have.”

  I take a nearby box and begin to follow him, while Roxy and Becca begin sweeping. After my third box I take a break to see if Roxy can point me in the direction of a drink; the whole reason I came along with them. She hands me a bottle of scotch, top shelf, and trails her fingers over mine. I can already tell she expects to throw herself on me, so the object of the game is to get drunk as quickly as possible and find a way home, before she’s able to make her move. Chicks like this are predictable. They want five seconds of fame. Some even hope they’ll get knocked up in order to force us men into being their sugar daddies.

  I’m being an asshole by taking advantage of her generosity, but for the sake of argument, I haven’t had to talk about baseball, money, or even the wife that’s probably going to cut my balls off when she finally catches up with me.

  Nearly an hour after we arrive, Roxy’s father heads out. He’s a local firefighter and due for an overnight shift. As soon as the door shuts Roxy leads Becca and I upstairs where we’ve carried all the booze. She doesn’t waste time getting started with her private party, handing us both our own bottles and
clanking them together in celebration. “Here’s to a night we’ll never forget with Chance Avery.” They give each other an ornery glance then both bring their attention to me. I simply smile and raise my brows while chugging down the hot lava of liquid she’s generously provided me with.

  They carry on with each other while I explore the room, noting the damage is minimal on this level. The exposed beams tell me the spot is structurally sound, and with some work it will be in tip top shape again. I’m sure this guy wants to get his business back up and running. He’s in a great location, right on the edge of South Baltimore and Anne Arundel County. The downstairs has a ton of room for large groups of people, and even a band or DJ. The smell of fire still resonates from time to time, but it’s obvious he’s paid a company to come in and treat everything they were able to.

  Before I know it I’ve finished an entire bottle of scotch. The two females sit in pub chairs and chipper up as I approach. Roxy has a cigarette in her hand and takes a drag before offering it to me. “Want a drag?”

  I used to be a smoker, but quit when I started seeing Hope. Lately I’ve been thinking about picking it back up, so I take the cigarette and suck hard on the butt. The smoke fills my lungs with a familiar feeling, making me relax even more then before. I know my problems will weigh heavily on me when this is over, but I’m calm and composed. My phone has stopped vibrating in my pocket, which tells me it probably died a while ago. I’ll have to accept the punishment my wife will give me for making her worry, but hopefully she’ll understand why I ran and hid, at least eventually. Since she’s always mad at something, I know this won’t be taken lightly. Repercussions of my being with two strange women will cause her to question her trust in me. She’ll accuse me of cheating, and I’ll have to work hard at earning her forgiveness. All these risk are still worth it to feel somewhat normal for a little while. I’m tired of everyone knowing my business and expecting things I’m unable to provide. For once I want to have a good time and forget who I am.

  Halfway through a second bottle I’m stumbling on my words. I’ve told the girls about my daughter, and how my wife will cut off my balls when she finds me. This entertains them. They’re also pretty tipsy, becoming more hands on as the evening progresses. At first it was light taps when I said something funny, but then it seems to get more intimate. Roxy keeps trying to stroke my arm. When I don’t give her the attention she seeks, she decides to up the ante.

  First they whisper to one another. When they’re in agreement they inch forward and kiss. In college I experienced two women at the same time, so my dick remains calm. When they start really going at it, I struggle not to watch it unfold. They’re groping one another now, Becca’s hand traveling down Roxy’s pants. Every few seconds they both peer in my direction to make sure I’m watching them. She’s rubbing her friend off, Roxy’s eyes rolling in the back of her head as she cries out and orgasms. I’d be lying if I said this wasn’t interesting. I can look up porn all day, but this is live action entertainment, all for my benefit.

  When their shirts fly off I know I’m in trouble. I try to look the other way and pretend it isn’t happening, but it’s damn near impossible. Knowing how bad this will look, I promise myself I won’t get involved, no matter how tempting they make it.

  Soon they’re naked and taunting me to join them.

  My fists are clenched in my pockets as I contemplate how to get out of this horrible situation.

  A part of me wants to throw caution to the wind and seize the opportunity, but my conscious won’t let me make such a grave decision that could surely end my marriage.

  Then it hits me like a ton of bricks.

  I have to get out of there, and I’m going to use anything I can to make it happen. I do my best to act interested, while still keeping my hands from wandering places they don’t need to explore. “Let’s go somewhere else and party. I have a better place in mind.”

  Roxy and Becca stop what they’re doing. Their very naked bodies are too close for me to be comfortable. I need air and it has to happen fast.

  I’ve put myself in a terrible position, and without a life preserver I’m afraid I’ll drown in my own stupidity.

  The girls need to think this encounter will bring them some kind of five second fame. They have to believe I’m into them. I need to convince them that we’ll carry on at my house, but that’s not what will happen once I arrive. I need to get home before I do something even more damaging. This looks bad. I don’t even know if either of them have snapped incriminating pictures. The thought of losing Hope sickens me. I know that once I’m home Hope will save me from myself. She’ll be furious, but at least I’ll be there, safe, and still highly intoxicated, but with her where I belong. I can only pray she’ll be able to overlook what I’ve already done to myself and our future.

  By the time we reach the front yard I’m stumbling. The alcohol in my system won’t let me gain any sort of composure. I’m laughing at my two new friends, forgetting why this is a bad idea. Everything starts to get blurry and what comes next will most surely dig my early grave.

  Chapter 5

  Time keeps moving forward and there’s still no sign of my husband. I’ve been in touch with several of his teammates, getting nowhere fast with each call. Now it’s time for me to consider calling hospitals. What other choice do I have? He’s missing, and since it hasn’t been forty eight hours I can’t go to the police.

  I manage to pull up the number for the closest facility, my fingers are punching in the digits as I hear commotion coming from outside. I slam the computer shut and amble toward the door hoping and praying he’s in good shape.

  What I find is nothing more than a train wreck with all my fears crashing together.

  Chance is being escorted toward our front door, down our newly paved sidewalk, by two blonde bimbos, dressed in attire I wouldn’t be caught dead in. One of them has her top halfway unbuttoned, giving me the impression it’s been put on recently.

  He’s laughing and leaning on one of them, while I come out and stand waiting for him to notice me.

  I’m enraged, flabbergasted, but mostly heartbroken. This is my greatest fear. He’s in the limelight because of his occupation. I promised him I wouldn’t get upset at the women who fawn over him, but this has taken me over my threshold of acceptance. I will not stand for this type of behavior, and as soon as our eyes meet he knows it.

  Chance manages to wriggle away from the two baseball tramps and stumbles forward. “Hey, baby. I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  My attention isn’t on my belligerent spouse. I’m directing all my anger towards the strangers that have obviously been occupying my husband for the past few hours. “You have two seconds to get the hell off my property.”

  Chance is trying to grab me, probably to help steady his own body. “Hope, it’s cool. I told them we could all hang out.”

  “Over my dead body,” I threaten.

  “Come on,” he continues to argue.

  I point to the street in the direction of the red convertible sport car with the lights still on and motor running. “Get out of here, now!” My disgust eludes me as I order it. I’m fuming and ready to give my husband a piece of my mind, before finding a private place to weep because I fear he’s done the unthinkable.

  I don’t watch to see if the females leave. Instead, I’m fixated on getting him inside before he wakes the neighbors and makes a mockery of the beautiful family they all complement us for having.

  We’re no sooner inside when he turns to face me, his eyes are heavy and unfocused on anything in particular. “It’s not what you think,” he manages to slur.

  My eyes roll as I motion to the couch. “Sit down before you fall.” I can feel tears forming, the burning telling me it’s only a matter of time before I’m a blubbering mess. This is my life. He’s my future, my partner, my everything. I’m in shock that this is happening, and I don’t know where to begin, because I’m too afraid the truth could destroy everything we ha
ve with one swift blow. “How could you do this to me? To us? To Faith?”

  He’s rubbing his face with his hands like it will wash away my accusations. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Hope.”

  “Oh really? What would you call it then? I show up at your game, all while anticipating seeing you after being apart, only to discover you’ve left the park without me. Do you know how ridiculous I looked waiting for you? How many of your friends knew you weren’t there?”

  He shrugs and starts laughing. I’m irate. This situation is escalating by the second. I want to scream, throw things, and say words I’ll never be able to take back. At this point I’m not going to believe a single thing that comes out of his mouth. “You think I fucked those two chicks?”

  My hands sit on my hips as if it makes me more serious. “You’re drunk, Chance. You’re always drunk. I wouldn’t put it past you, but I know I’ll never get a straight answer so I’m done talking tonight. Don’t you dare try to come in our bedroom. Stay out here and sleep it off.”

  His tone is even as he speaks. “Hope, be serious. I haven’t been home in days.”

  “It’s taking everything I have in me not to kick your ass out. Don’t talk to me for the rest of the night. Don’t come near me. I can’t look at you without feeling disgusted. You’re not the man I married. You’re a mess, and right now I refuse to share my bed with you in this condition.”

  I’m walking out of the room when I hear his last words. “I missed you, baby. I miss us.”

  I grit my teeth and forge toward the bedroom door, where I lock myself on the other side of it and sink down to the carpeted floor. My face is buried in my hands when the first set of tears strike. I’m lost, heartbroken, and shaking profusely. My body feels exhausted and weak, while my emotions won’t allow me to consider rest.

  This isn’t how I saw my night going. It’s not how I saw my future heading. I thought we could handle any situation, but this is inconceivable. This is my worst nightmare.