Both Sides Of The Fence 3: Loose Ends Read Online Free PDF Page A

Don’t make me use them.” I grabbed my bag and left her in her office to think about her next move.

Chapter 2
     
    Grace
    Uncovered
    April 1st 6:40 P.M.
     
    I sat at my desk and put my head in my hands. “How in the hell did she find this?”
    I looked at the paper that Ashley had sat in front of me and shook my head. My past was resurfacing right before my eyes. Tears watered up in my eyes as I thought about my past. I just couldn’t deal with this then or now. I folded up the papers, walked over to my filing cabinet, and neatly tucked them into an empty folder and closed the drawer back up again and locked it up.
    “I will deal with this later.” I walked over to my coat, on the back of my office door, put it on, then grabbed my briefcase from off my desk, and walked out of my office with my head held high. I was not going to let some wet-behind-the-ears, spoiled brat, run me. Somehow I have to get some leverage on her to even the score. I know it sounds harsh, me squabbling with a barely legal child that is less than half my age, but I needed things to go back to the way they were before I ventured out on this trail of destruction.
    The wind was blowing as I walked across the parking lot toward my car, pulling my Dolce & Gabbana jacket closed with the hand that held my briefcase and fumbling with my lunch bag in the other. I put my finger on the fingerprint reader to open my door. I quickly got in, threw the briefcase on the passenger seat, put my finger on the fingerprint reader to start the car, and pulled off. I looked at the dashboard clock and it read a quarter till seven.
    I was still a little emotional fifteen minutes later as I pulled up to the fancy carryout that my husband and I frequented. Because of our busy schedules as professionals, we often had to eat out or bring something home because our days usually started pretty early in the morning. It was the reason he was overweight and why I was beginning to pick up some extra pounds myself.
    I walked into the take-out side of Benson’s Bistro and ordered some fried chicken, pilaf rice, sweet potatoes, string beans, and a gallon of their peach tea to go. I smiled at the African owner, who knew me all too well. As he slid me my order I put my finger on the fingerprint reader to charge my bank account. I selected the correct account and was done in seconds.
    “Have a good day,” he said as I turned and walked out of the establishment. I hopped back into my car and head toward my home. About twenty-five minutes later I pulled up to my Tudor-style home in Ingleside and parked my car beside my husband’s.
    I grabbed my bags of food, the gallon of tea, my briefcase, and struggled my way up our short, cobblestone walkway. I was loaded down with baggage of pain and secrets, but my husband only saw me struggling with the bags in my hands as he opened the door.
    “Aww, baby, give me that,” he said as he took all the things that cluttered my hands and let me walk in the house freely. I trailed behind him as he scolded me about not calling him on the cell phone from the car.
    “I’m sorry, babe.” I pouted and kissed him on his cheek before I sat down at our dining room table and watched him go into our kitchen and bring back dinnerware for our meal.
    My husband, David, has picked up about eighty pounds since we have been married. He was still handsome in the face, but the extra weight that threw him into 250-pound range, which he picked up over the years, was a complete turnoff for me. We had met when I was in grad school. I was twenty-six years old and he was two years younger. He was this five foot nine, 170-pound, caramel brick house. At a moment’s whim he would pick me up into the air and spin me around like a rag doll. We had a whirlwind love affair for about six months before he popped the question. At the beginning of the honeymoon period in our marriage, we were having nonstop sex, we worked out together in between classes, and we both were toned