Desperation of Love

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Authors: Alice Montalvo-Tribue

Tags: #Of Love#2

BOOK: Desperation of Love
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Copyright © 2013 by Alice Montalvo-Tribue

 

Published by Alice Montalvo-Tribue

 

All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any form without written permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. All characters and storylines are the property of the author.

 

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or any events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously.

 

 

 

Cover Image by Photography by Monica

https://www.facebook.com/monicamphotography

 

Cover Models, Jared Groff & Stephanie Cogburn

 

Hair & Makeup by Sonia

https://www.facebook.com/Hair.and.Makeup.by.Sonia

 

Cover design by Distorted Edge Designs

https://www.facebook.com/DistortedEdge

 

Edited by Kris Kendall

http://www.final-edits.com

 

Interior Design by Angela McLaurin

Fictional Formats

 

 

Other titles by Alice Montalvo-Tribue

Translation of Love
(Of Love #1)

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

Epilogue

About the Author

Acknowledgements

 

 

To my family for accepting me as I am and always allowing me to be me.

 

 

I don’t want to open my eyes this morning. To face the day after the beauty of the night before seems almost cruel. Keeping my eyes firmly closed, I try to shut out the memories of my past. They always seem to surface at times like these, overshadowing the moments of joy. Being the product of divorced parents is never easy, but when you spend the majority of your childhood being used like a pawn in a vicious chess game, it’s kind of hard not to be at least a little screwed up. On top of that, add the feelings of abandonment that I’ve struggled with for years and now I’m nothing but a mess. Here I am, 32 years old, and you’d think that I’d be over it by now. You’d assume that I’d be smart enough to understand that I shouldn’t let my issues and my parents’ ugly relationship affect me. Well, I’m not that smart, and for as long as I can remember, I have single-handedly sabotaged every relationship I’ve ever had with a man. It’s not that I don’t long for something more, for the kind of love that could last a lifetime, I do. But the paralyzing fear of ending up broken and alone is enough of a motivator to keep me rooted in solitude. My need for self-preservation has become greater than my need for love. It’s not even that I’m afraid to date, I date all the time. I take what I can for as long as I can get it and then I move on. I dated Mark for seven months. That is a new record for me. But when he started pressuring me for more of a commitment, I began to push him away. He knew what I was doing and thought that the best way to combat my commitment issues was for us to move in together. Dumb suggestion on his part. That was the last nail in the coffin for me. Much like my best friend, Elle, I made a decision to close the door on romantic relationships. She had endured a traumatic experience that resulted in many physical and emotional scars. That’s why it was so gratifying to see her walk down the aisle toward Victor last night. Her path to love gives me hope that maybe I can get out of my own way long enough that I might be able to experience it one day. I sincerely doubt it, but it certainly doesn’t hurt to hope.

When I finally decide to open my eyes and face the day, I’m blinded by the sun shining through my drapes. The bright rays are doing nothing to ease my hangover. I partied with reckless abandon last night and I have the headache to prove it. I turn my back toward the window, trying to block the potent morning rays and what I encounter sobers me up pretty quickly. In all honesty, I’m stunned to find the figure of a man lying next to me. A man that with one look can send me spiraling out of control. I knew from the moment I met Alex Garza that, given the opportunity, he would cause nothing but trouble for my heart. I fought a good fight but ultimately he’s gotten his way and somehow has ended up in my bed.
Fuck
!

 

 

Four months later …

 

I haven’t seen him since the morning after Victor and Elle’s wedding when I found him in my bed. The sad part is that I can’t even remember the events of that night. I know I partied and got drunk, well wasted, really, but the moments that led up to me waking with Alex are all a blur. And I sure as hell don’t want to ask
him
what happened. So, I did what any self- respecting woman would have done in my situation. I snuck out …
of my own house
. I did the walk of shame out my front door, slid into my car, and drove to my friend’s house, where I hid out for the remainder of the day. He called me several times that day but I let every call go to voicemail. I just couldn’t face him, and I made sure to avoid him over the last few months. He eventually gave up trying to contact me, but I knew my luck wouldn’t last forever and now he’s back.

Victor and Elle finally found a house that they love, right on the beach, and moved in last weekend. This left Elle’s little cottage empty, and since Alex is Victor’s only brother and they are going into business together, opening up a recording studio, it only makes sense for Alex to move into it. He gave up his apartment in New York and is moving to town this weekend. I’d been hoping to stay far away from him, but Elle insisted that the four of us go out to dinner tonight to welcome him to town. She basically backed me into a corner. If I decline, I’m afraid that she might suspect that there’s something going on between me and Alex. I also don’t want Alex to think I can’t sit through a meal with him especially when he’s done nothing wrong.

That leads me to now, sitting in my car, in the parking lot of the restaurant where we’re all supposed to meet up. Elle sent a text a few minutes ago, letting me know that the three of them are waiting for me inside, yet I can’t move. I’d never admit this to anyone but the thought of seeing Alex again is attacking my system with an overload of emotions. A part of me is actually excited to see him because I’m very attracted to him, but I’m also cautious because I don’t want him to know how he affects me. More importantly, I’m just plain embarrassed for getting trashed, bringing him home to do God knows what, and then bailing immediately afterwards. It wasn’t one of my better plans. Under normal circumstances, I would have no issue with a one night stand. I might’ve even embraced it. But this is different. This is my best friend’s brother-in-law, and it’s all just a little too close for comfort. I’m going to have to see this guy and be around him for years to come, and it’s best to just put that night behind us.

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