Page 2 of Richard

“Our food is here.”

They waited until the waiter had left before resuming. “I am sorry for hurting you like that. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“You were thinking that I was not good enough for Trevor. You kept harping on the fact that he was so handsome and had such a good job.” Collette dug into her salad and wished she was anywhere else. She had managed to put all the sordidness behind her with months of therapy, but she still woke up in coldsweat, her heart pounding.

“And I was wrong. He blames me for taking him away from you.”

She gave the girl a surprised look. “As I recalled, he went willingly.”

“I seduced him,” Janice whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek. “And now I am getting just what I deserve.”

“You wouldn’t have been able to seduce him if he was not open to the idea.” She said dismissively. After years of blaming her sister for the entire situation, she came to that conclusion . But the fact remained that Trevor had been a willing participant. It had been painful to acknowledge that much.

Janice was five years younger and had always been prettier. Both women had flawless caramel skin and thick dark brown hair. As the older sister, Collette had always looked out for her. And their parents had spoiled her rotten, allowing her to get whatever she asked for.

Collette had been overlooked, something she had not minded at first. “You are so responsible, honey,” her mother always said. “You don’t need looking after. Your sister, on the other hand, is so frivolous and sometimes foolish. And adorably reckless.”

And beautiful. Collette had never envied the younger woman, who had always garnered a lot of attention. Janice had never lacked for male companionship, so when she started after Trevor, the bewilderment and pain had been real.

“Why?” she had asked Janice after realizing that she had been the reason why Trevor had called things off.

“I love him. I am sorry, Collette, but Trevor and I love each other. We didn’t want to hurt you, but we cannot deny ourselves any longer.”

The betrayal by her sister, her only living relative, had pierced her like a sword, cutting through skin and bones and extremities. She had never been one for female friends; yes, she had a few, but she considered Janice her best friend. So, she had not only lost a sister but her best friend as well.

Taking a sip of her iced tea with the lemon wedge, she studied the younger woman and would not be human if she was not pleased with the haggard look and the lines on the formerly flawless face.

She had heard rumors of the marriage disintegrating, of course, and Trevor had called several times asking to meet her. She had refused and told him not to call her again.

“Why are you telling me this?” she asked quietly.

“I am trying to cleanse myself; come clean with my conscience.” Janice played around with her salad listlessly. “Our marriage was rocky from the beginning.”

Collette wanted to say something spiteful but managed to curb the desire. It was not worth it, and besides, she had learned to get past the hurt and pain over the years. It had also taught her a very valuable lesson. Never to love or trust anyone again. It had been a painful lesson, one that had made her bitter and almost a recluse.

She was forty-two without a husband and children. She had planned for two, hopefully, a boy and a girl, and a happy ending, but that had not happened. Now her work was her sole focus.

Oh, she had been out on dates several times, but nothing meaningful. She had tried having an intimate relationship or two, but no one had been able to get past the barrier she had erected.

“You are allowing that bastard to win,” her best friend Babs said accusingly, and she was right. But after what she had gone through, Collette was not willing to open up her heart so that it could be shattered to pieces.

Her work was her therapy, and had become a panacea, and she thanked God that it was so fulfilling. She was at the top of her game and failing in love had made her ruthless in business.

Her clients received her very best because she was not encumbered by a family. At least, that’s what she told herself. She shied away from the term “old maid” and convinced herself that she was a career woman.

Men did this sort of thing all the time and they were not labeled in such a derogatory term. She was successful, had her own parking space, her home was lovely, and her clothes were immaculate. She did not need a man to validate her.

Most marriages ended in divorce anyway, and she had also convinced herself that if she had married Trevor, they would be on their way to the courthouse by now. She had dodged a rather large bullet.

Except for the yearning and emptiness inside her womb, she was fine. Except for the fact that whenever she happened to go to the park, she would find herself staring at a family with children, the yearning could not be ignored.

Other than that, she was fine. But her sister was not.

She noticed how ragged the sweater was that she had on. Collette was wearing designer threads. The emerald green sweater was cashmere and clung to her upper body, outlining a rather generous bosom.

She had paired it with a long velvet figure molding skirt that met the edge of her knee-high brown boots. Her thick dark brown hair was permed and styled in an elegant chignon at the nape of her neck. Diamond studs winked at her lobes, and her makeup was flawless, not that she needed any.

She wasn’t beautiful in the accepted sense, but she turned heads and noticed that when she stepped into the restaurant. Her watch was the latest smart style, beeping subtly now to remind her of the upcoming appointment.

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