Society Wives Read Online Free PDF Page A
Author: Renee Flagler
Coffey.
âDid Angela come with him?â Nadaliaâs face scrunched. She figured if Angela was coming to town, she certainly would have called her so they could do lunch and perhaps a little shopping.
âNot this time. Like I said, heâs here on business. I gotta run. I donât want to get to the golf course late. The last one to arrive has to pick up the bar tab. I have to at least beat Anderson there. No one ever beats Niles or Mike.â Sage gave Nadalia a quick peck on the lips. âIâll call to let you know if Iâm definitely going to meet Coffey this afternoon.â
Nadalia folded her arms and pouted.
âAww babe! Iâm sorry.â
Nadalia waved him off knowing that she probably wouldnât see him again until possibly well into the night, which meant she wouldnât get to spend much time with him during his birthday weekend at all. Sunday, heâd be at the football game, partly for work and partly because he was simply a fanatic who held season tickets.
All this time away from him didnât help to close the gap between them. On the other hand, it did give her some time to conjure up ways to end the negative currents flowing in their relationship.
There was a time when they couldnât keep their hands off each other. Nadalia didnât buy the fact that they were settling into a âcomfortableâ space that couples experienced when sex became lackluster. She didnât want to fall into a groove that felt worn and familiar. They had always been adventurous lovers. She needed the excitement and enjoyed the sparks that flew between them.
Nadalia took sad steps back to her room and crawled into bed. She needed to plan a romantic vacation for them. Maybe they could embark on a quick excursion between the holidays. With their workload, both of them could use the break. One way or another, sheâd find her way back to her husband before it was too late.
Chapter 7
Ryan
The cramping in Ryanâs stomach that kept her awake half the night, now had her crawling from her bed to the bathroom. The pain stabbed at the insides of her stomach like a timed jackhammer. Assuming it was something sheâd eaten at the restaurant, Ryan took antacids in search of relief.
This time she had a real reason to refuse Andersonâs advances before he left to go golfing with the guys. She was sick, but still upset at him for his disappearance, which he had yet to explain. Holding out when he finally got around to wanting to make love to her was her way of getting back at him.
When Ryan made it to the bathroom, she noticed a crimson trail leading back to the bed. She reached between her legs and pulled back a blood-covered hand.
âNo!â she screamed and scampered to the bathroom on her hands and knees.
Leaning her weight against the tub, she tried to stand and a pain shot through her. Ryan howled, folded her arms at her stomach and crumpled back onto the floor. The pain stabbed at her again, this time taking her breath. Beads of sweat rolled along her face, then dripped onto the blood spotted tile.
She needed to call someone, but couldnât move. Mustering up strength, Ryan dragged herself from the bathroom to the nightstand. The tile and carpet resembled a brutal crime scene after a massacre.
With bloodied hands, she pulled the phone down and dialed her mother. Ryan cried out when she had dialed a third time and couldnât get her. Who else was there to call? She wouldnât call Anderson.
Feeling a panic attack emerging, Ryan took deep breaths. She needed to call 911, but she didnât want to go alone. She tried her mother one last time, still no answer. Ryan knew she was losing time. Her breath was growing faint and her hands were shaking. She couldnât keep calling her mother. Chances were she was in an alcohol induced sleep.
As an only child, estranged from the rest of her family because of her motherâs drinking problem, she had
âDid Angela come with him?â Nadaliaâs face scrunched. She figured if Angela was coming to town, she certainly would have called her so they could do lunch and perhaps a little shopping.
âNot this time. Like I said, heâs here on business. I gotta run. I donât want to get to the golf course late. The last one to arrive has to pick up the bar tab. I have to at least beat Anderson there. No one ever beats Niles or Mike.â Sage gave Nadalia a quick peck on the lips. âIâll call to let you know if Iâm definitely going to meet Coffey this afternoon.â
Nadalia folded her arms and pouted.
âAww babe! Iâm sorry.â
Nadalia waved him off knowing that she probably wouldnât see him again until possibly well into the night, which meant she wouldnât get to spend much time with him during his birthday weekend at all. Sunday, heâd be at the football game, partly for work and partly because he was simply a fanatic who held season tickets.
All this time away from him didnât help to close the gap between them. On the other hand, it did give her some time to conjure up ways to end the negative currents flowing in their relationship.
There was a time when they couldnât keep their hands off each other. Nadalia didnât buy the fact that they were settling into a âcomfortableâ space that couples experienced when sex became lackluster. She didnât want to fall into a groove that felt worn and familiar. They had always been adventurous lovers. She needed the excitement and enjoyed the sparks that flew between them.
Nadalia took sad steps back to her room and crawled into bed. She needed to plan a romantic vacation for them. Maybe they could embark on a quick excursion between the holidays. With their workload, both of them could use the break. One way or another, sheâd find her way back to her husband before it was too late.
Chapter 7
Ryan
The cramping in Ryanâs stomach that kept her awake half the night, now had her crawling from her bed to the bathroom. The pain stabbed at the insides of her stomach like a timed jackhammer. Assuming it was something sheâd eaten at the restaurant, Ryan took antacids in search of relief.
This time she had a real reason to refuse Andersonâs advances before he left to go golfing with the guys. She was sick, but still upset at him for his disappearance, which he had yet to explain. Holding out when he finally got around to wanting to make love to her was her way of getting back at him.
When Ryan made it to the bathroom, she noticed a crimson trail leading back to the bed. She reached between her legs and pulled back a blood-covered hand.
âNo!â she screamed and scampered to the bathroom on her hands and knees.
Leaning her weight against the tub, she tried to stand and a pain shot through her. Ryan howled, folded her arms at her stomach and crumpled back onto the floor. The pain stabbed at her again, this time taking her breath. Beads of sweat rolled along her face, then dripped onto the blood spotted tile.
She needed to call someone, but couldnât move. Mustering up strength, Ryan dragged herself from the bathroom to the nightstand. The tile and carpet resembled a brutal crime scene after a massacre.
With bloodied hands, she pulled the phone down and dialed her mother. Ryan cried out when she had dialed a third time and couldnât get her. Who else was there to call? She wouldnât call Anderson.
Feeling a panic attack emerging, Ryan took deep breaths. She needed to call 911, but she didnât want to go alone. She tried her mother one last time, still no answer. Ryan knew she was losing time. Her breath was growing faint and her hands were shaking. She couldnât keep calling her mother. Chances were she was in an alcohol induced sleep.
As an only child, estranged from the rest of her family because of her motherâs drinking problem, she had
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