Broken Dreams Boxset Read online

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  SHATTERED DREAMS

  PART ONE

  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

  PART TWO

  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

  SIX MONTHS LATER

  EPILOGUE

  BROKEN PROMISES

  COPYRIGHT

  DEDICATION

  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

  Shattered Dreams

  Copyright © 2019 by Rebecca Barber. All rights reserved.

  First Print Edition: November 2019

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

  For everyone who’s struggled, men and women alike.

  Sometimes life sucks and there’s not much you can do about it.

  The moment when the dream of what you think your future is going to look like shatters and you’re left holding the fractured pieces, know you’re not alone. You can survive. You will survive. And maybe, just maybe, there’s a bigger and better dream out there waiting for you.

  PART ONE

  CHAPTER ONE

  MAGGIE

  PRESENT DAY

  Squished in the too-small seat, I tucked my feet under my butt and prayed the sleeping tablets I’d swallowed would hurry up and kick in.

  “Would you like anything to drink?”

  Would I ever! “A white wine please.” As much as I wanted something stronger, needed something stronger, I’d have to settle for a wine.

  A moment later with my plastic cup half-filled with warm white wine and the teasing bag of pretzels in my hand, I watched as the air hostess nudged her heavy cart further down the aisle. We were only an hour and a half into a torturous eleven-hour flight. I hadn’t thought this through obviously, but it was too late to change my mind now. We were mid-air. In the row behind me, the annoying little red-headed kid kicked my chair, and it took every ounce of self-control I possessed to restrain myself from turning around and giving the little shit a piece of my mind. Beside me, a guy who was a little too large for his seat shifted, his elbow colliding with my boob. Again. I was positive by the time we landed I’d be covered in bruises. Gulping down my wine, I tucked the pretzels into the seat pocket, grabbed my ear phones and eye mask. It was time for me to check out. The last couple of days had been rough.

  MAGGIE

  THREE DAYS EARLIER

  Standing at the window, I shoved the curtains aside and watched as Drew backed out of the driveway. It was still dark out, yet he was already leaving. Even though it was only Tuesday, he wouldn’t be home until late Friday, he reminded me as he closed the door. Drew was an IT guru and a pretty good one at that. It wasn’t unusual for him to spend a couple of nights a month away working. He was often at conferences as an attendee or even a speaker or he was off helping large companies try to untangle their issues with little to no notice. It was just the way it was. I didn’t like it but, somewhere along the way, I’d just learnt to live with it. It was who he was and what he loved doing. Sure, it meant that I spent more nights than I’d like alone in a bed that was way too big for one person after scrounging up another healthy dinner of toast smothered in Nutella and ice cream, but it’s what it was.

  This time though, this time it was different.

  Everything about it was different.

  This time I wasn’t watching him leave, already anxiously awaiting his return. This time I felt nothing but numb. With the light drizzle splattering the window my head was resting against, I felt nauseous. Even though I was completely alone in this huge house overlooking the bay, I felt like the walls were closing in on me. Suffocating me. Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe. There was no air. Forcing open the sliding door, I stepped out into the frigid morning. Even though I knew the bay was in front of me, a sight I’d woken to every day for years, this morning it looked like I felt; smothered. A heavy fog blanketed it, and I could only imagine the havoc it was causing at the airport which should be to my left. Instead, there was a dull, grey sea of nothingness. Tugging my cardigan tighter, trying to ward off the cold, I shivered realising the cold wasn’t seeping in with each rain drop that touched me. The cold that was causing my skin to pebble and my teeth to chatter was coming from within.

  Gasping for breath, I grabbed hold of the rail, staring down at the concrete driveway below. Our house was everything everyone expected us to have. It was a house, not a home. A two storey, four-bedroom monstrosity which was barely lived in. I don’t remember the last time we’d sat and shared a meal at the dining room table, but it looked perfect. Expectations had weighed heavily on us in the early days. The days before I knew any better.

  With the expanse of grey stretched out before me, I wondered how much damage I’d do if I jumped. The thought alone scared the shit out of me. It was enough to have me backing away from the edge and scrambling inside. If I was having those types of thoughts, even if it was just a fleeting one, then I needed help. And I needed it now.

  After slamming the door shut, I raced up the stairs and found myself standing in the walk-in robe. Everything was exactly as it should be. Drew’s shirts hung perfectly pressed and lined up by colour, while my sensible knee-length dark-coloured dresses were lifelessly taunting me. Without pausing, I grabbed my oversized handbag, stuffed my feet into a pair of shoes, pausing barely long enough to check they matched, and hurried out the door.

  Twenty minutes later, I pulled into the carpark of my best friend Kristie’s apartment complex with a screech and wiped my eyes. I hadn’t even realised I was crying. Outs
ide, people were running across the asphalt using anything they could get their hands on to shield themselves from the now pounding rain. Some used their bags, others their coats. I just stayed where I was, unmoving, hypnotised by each fat drop splattering on the windshield.

  “Maybe I should just go home,” I said to the empty passenger seat. There was no one there. I was alone. Completely and utterly alone. The problem was I didn’t need someone sitting in the car with me to point out the fatal flaw in my plan. I didn’t have a home. At least not anymore.

  Showing up at Kristie’s unannounced this early in the morning without a bucket of coffee and her favourite blueberry muffin could be considered more dangerous than attempting to negotiate peace in the Middle East. But this was bigger than her bed hair. I needed her so desperately that I was willing to risk her morning wrath. Grabbing my stuff, I slammed the door shut and headed for the stairs. Even though there was an elevator in the building, I thought climbing the three flights might help me find the words I was trying to grasp.

  It didn’t.

  Staring at the brass numbers on her door, I hated the fact that I still had nothing. But it wasn’t just the words I’d lost. My confidence was shot to shit too. Kristie and I’d been friends since I’d moved to town when I was thirteen. She’d found me sitting alone, eating my boring sandwich in the shade on the edge of the football field, my nose buried in a book. The next day, when she’d shown up with the sequel, our friendship was cemented. Since then, I couldn’t recall a single life event that didn’t include her. Together we’d been through everything. I guess this was just another storm for us to weather together.

  Even though I had a key to her apartment, I couldn’t bring myself to use it. Instead I raised my nervous hand and rapped on her door.

  “Just a minute,” she garbled. At least that’s what I thought she said. There may have been a few muttered curses thrown in for good measure.

  I had to remind myself to breathe.

  I was shivering.

  I was officially freaking the fuck out.

  Before I had a chance to turn and run back to the car, the door was flung open and standing before me was someone who almost resembled my best friend. Wrapped in a robe, a towel turban on her head and a toothbrush dangling from her mouth, she was barely recognisable. At least I wasn’t waking her. Finally, something in my life that had a silver lining.

  As soon as her eyes met mine, I broke.

  Reliving the moment Drew drove away shattered me. In reality, it was nothing. Not really. All it took was seeing the surprise written all over Kristie’s concerned face for my carefully constructed walls to disintegrate.

  “Maggie?”

  I let out an ugly snort sob. It’s all I got out before Kristie reached out, grabbed my wrist and tugged me through her front door, slamming it closed behind us.

  “Give me two seconds.”

  In typical Kristie style, she didn’t give me a chance to object before she ducked back into the bathroom, and I wiped my snotty nose on my sleeve as I tried to pull my shit together. I’d barely managed to dry my eyes when Kristie reappeared, this time looking slightly more put together in yoga pants, an oversized t-shirt and her wild, red curly hair piled in a messy bun.

  Flopping down beside me on the lounge, she took my hands in hers, looked me dead in the eye and didn’t waste a second. “Right. Spill.”

  And that’s exactly what I did.

  For the next two hours.

  I cried and I got mad. Then I cried some more. Even when I thought I’d run out of tears, another flood happened.

  At one point Kristie had been so cranky at me. Not that I could blame her. I told her everything. And I mean everything. It was the first time I’d told her how unhappy I’d really been. It was the first time I’d told anyone. If I was being honest, it was probably the first time I’d even admitted it to myself. I’d been miserable and lonely for a long time. Longer than anyone should live like that. It wasn’t until I saw the disappointment written all over Kristie’s face that I realised how incredibly stupid I’d been.

  When I finally managed to claw my way out of my own pity party, I found a moment to think about someone else. “Shit! Shouldn’t you be at work?”

  “Nah. My bestie needed me, so I called in.”

  “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “Yeah, sweetie, I did.”

  I don’t remember crashing but it didn’t really surprise me that I had. Crying until my eyes stung, pouring my heart out, it sapped the life right out of me. I hadn’t intended to fall asleep, but by the time I managed to get my shit together, there was nothing left. I had no more tears to cry and had run out of swear words to use. I’d laid my head down just for a second. When I woke up, I felt like I’d been hit by a bus then it’d backed up over me again. Twice. My neck had a crick in it and my mouth felt like it was stuffed full of cotton wool. It was like waking up after a great night only to face the mother of all hangovers. Kicking the throw rug off my legs, my feet touched the ground and the room spun.

  It took a moment before the black dots blurring my vision cleared and the fog started to lift. Checking my phone, I saw that it was nearly lunch time. It didn’t escape my attention that my phone was eerily silent. No one had called. No one had sent a text. Drew had shattered my heart and walked away, not even bothering to look back. This time though, instead of crying, I hiccupped and hoisted my arse off the couch and followed my nose towards the mouth-watering scent of bacon.

  “Smells good.”

  “Here she is. Right on time too!” Kristie beamed as she took the frypan from the stove.

  Seeing what she’d been up to earnt her a growl from my empty stomach. For someone who couldn’t cook, or someone who would let you believe she couldn’t, the pile of pancakes was looking fluffy and delicious.

  “Someone’s been a busy girl.”

  “No, I’ve been hungry. Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to wake up, Sleeping Beauty?”

  “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to…”

  “Oh, shush! You obviously needed it. Now, do you want bacon?”

  That was the best part of having a best friend. Someone who understood you. Someone who loved you. Someone who didn’t judge. Or they did, but only ever to your face. Slipping onto the bar stool, I filled a glass with juice. “Do you even have to ask?”

  Once our bellies were full and I was lulled into a false sense of comfort, Kristie asked me the one question I wasn’t ready to answer. One I didn’t have an answer for. One that I knew would come, but there was no way I could ever be prepared for. “Any idea what you’re going to do next?”

  “Ah, isn’t that the million-dollar question? I can’t go home…”

  “Why?”

  “What do you mean why?”

  “Why the hell can’t you go home? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “I know I didn’t. I just… I don’t know, it’s weird. The house I’d spent the past few years trying to create, it doesn’t really feel like a home. Not anymore.”

  “Did it yesterday?”

  “Huh?”

  “Yesterday. Did it feel like your home?”

  “I guess.”

  “That’s ‘cause it was. It was the home you built, Maggie. That didn’t change overnight. And it hasn’t changed in the past few hours either. But yeah, I agree. You need a break. You need to get away.”

  “What’s a holiday going to fix? I didn’t smash a mirror or back the car into the fence. My husband wants a divorce. My marriage is over. Running away isn’t going to change that.” I was so wound up I had tears streaming down my face, every emotion from anger to frustration to disappointment engulfing me.

  As I swatted away unwelcome tears, Kristie shifted into the seat next to me and took both my hands in hers. Immediately, guilt filled me. She wasn’t the one who’d asked for the divorce. She wasn’t the one who’d shattered my heart. She wasn’t the one who was walking away from the life we’d spent years buildi
ng, destroying the dreams we’d shared.

  “Sweetie.” One word was all that was needed before the pain stole my breath. “Oh shit! Come on, Mags. He doesn’t deserve your tears. And I know a holiday isn’t going to magically fix all your problems. Hell, if it did, I’d be sleeping on a pile of money from all the issues I solved sending people to tropical paradises or exotic locations. But it will let you take a step back for a second. Take a breath. And think about what you want. I know you can do that here, but why not do it somewhere you’ve always dreamt of?”

  “You may have a point,” I agreed with a sniff.

  Kristie jumped up and dashed down the hallway. I had no idea what she was up to. Right now, it wouldn’t surprise me if she was running away from me. I wanted to run away from me. Instead, she reappeared with a box of tissues, a hoodie tossed over her shoulder and her laptop already loading.

  “Here you go, snot face. Clean yourself up and then we’re going to send you to your dream destination.”

  After cleaning myself up, I tugged on the hoodie not realising how much comfort it would give me. It was like being wrapped in a big warm hug. I gave Kristie’s out-of-the-box suggestion some thought. Maybe she had a point. I wasn’t naive enough to believe that running away would make everything okay, but perhaps it would buy me some time to figure out what my next step was. What it could look like.

  From the day I met Drew, he’d been the centre of my world. Everything he’d wanted to do, anywhere he’d wanted to go, that’s what we did. All of his goals became my goals. His dreams became my dreams. Everything I’d wanted for myself didn’t seem to be as important as putting Drew first. It’s what a good wife did. It’s what I did. Now I was left standing here. Alone, lost and more than a little confused.

  “Now, are we thinking Pina Coladas on a deserted beach? Getting lost in the hustle and bustle of one of the world’s busiest cities? Dancing the nights away in the arms of your sexy Latin lover…”

  “Kristie,” I chastised. Right now, the last thing on my mind was getting caught up with a new guy.