Forgiven Read online

  FORGIVEN

  BY

  THERESA HODGE

  COPYRIGHT 2018 Theresa Hodge

  Amazon Edition

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, organizations and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Amazon Edition, License Notes

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite e-book retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  DEDICATION

  To everyone, who has ever been betrayed in one way or another and had to learn to pick up the pieces to heal, forgive, and move on.

  Love,

  Theresa

  Prologue

  Sage

  How did I go from happiness to so much pain in a week's time? One moment, Dylan and I were in love. The next he was gone. I vowed my heart would never open itself up to that much pain and heartache ever again.

  Dylan Montgomery was my breath of fresh air. He was the charismatic, blonde-haired, golden guy who had promised to love me to the very end.

  Eight years earlier on a cold winter day, Dylan had called me saying he had something important he needed to discuss with me. I was sure he was going to ask me to be his wife. I didn't care if I had two more years at University. I knew I would make Dylan a great wife and continue my studies for my English literary degree at the same time.

  Dylan had been the one for me. He was the one I had given my virginity to my freshman year in college. Dylan had been a graduating senior with a degree in marketing and business under his belt. He was a genius who came from an influential family with a long line of wealth that dated back for generations, but he never acted as if he were better than anyone.

  I was surprised when he chose me, an average black girl from Brooklyn to be his. I admit it was easy to love Dylan. He was charming, sweet, charismatic, and his eyes were the bluest of blues I'd ever seen.

  I was a junior at NYU when Dylan asked me to meet him at Taboonette in Hell’s Kitchen. Our favorite eatery served the Middle Eastern/Mediterranean food that I had fallen in love with since I had met Dylan. Dylan introduced me to a lot of different things that I wouldn't have tried on my own.

  Other than my parents, Ethel and Paul Wilson, Dylan and Tonya, my best friend, were my two favorite people; and I knew they had my back. She was more of a sister to me. I don’t think I would have made it through my college years without her. She was Dylan’s and my biggest cheerleader. I never doubted that Dylan and I would have a happy life together. He was going to be the prominent tycoon who blazed a path conquering his dreams, and I was going to be a top journalist for the New York Times.

  Dylan used to tell me I was his everything woman who had stolen his heart the moment he saw me studying in the NYU library. He was my heart, my rock, and my best friend. Those words were just a few to describe Dylan, because he was so much more to me. Before Dylan, I had yearned for my soulmate. After he blew into my life, he was like the missing piece of a lost puzzle. We were a perfect fit.

  Well, at least I thought we were the perfect fit, until he decided to manage the newest Montgomery empire in Paris, France. Memories of the past flooded my mind. Memories of our love overwhelmed me, and I let them flow freely.

  “Hey, baby,” Dylan said, as he waited for me outside my dorm room in his brand new Mercedes Benz. “You look beautiful.”

  I was wearing a new outfit that my friend, Tonya, had helped me shop for. I knew I shouldn't have spent the money on new clothes, but I wanted to look nice for him. I wore a maroon sweater dress and paired it with over-the-knee, wine-colored boots.

  “Thank you.” I beamed and wrapped my arms around Dylan's neck as he placed his hands on each side of my waist and pulled me to him.

  Dylan lowered his head and planted his lips on mine. He nipped at my bottom lip and sucked it into his mouth before licking it with his tongue. My insides warmed from his kisses.

  Dylan's hand slid down and gripped my ass cheeks. “I love your ass.” He chuckled and gazed down at me before he kissed me again. "You have great tits, too.” He gave me a one-sided naughty grin. “I can't get enough of you,” he added before attacking my lips again. I simpered under Dylan's kisses. He was such a great kisser, even back then.

  “I think we'd better go if we don't want everyone gawking at us,” I suggested, as other students passed us getting an eyeful.

  “Let them look, damn it. You're mine, and I'm yours,” he stated before letting me go and helping me into his vehicle.

  “I love you, Dylan,” I said, as he left the campus and pulled into the highway.

  Dylan reached over, grabbed my hand, and brought it to his lips. “I love you more than anything,” he responded and gave me a quick look before returning his gaze to the roadway.

  Once Dylan and I arrived at the restaurant and placed our orders, Dylan gazed into my eyes. “I have some important news, babe.”

  “What is the news?’ I questioned, taking a sip from my glass of ice tea.

  “You know I graduate next week, right?”

  “Of course, I do! I have a perfect celebration planned for next weekend.”

  “How do you feel about celebrating in Paris instead of here?” Dylan asked with a look of expectancy on his handsome face.

  “Paris, what do you mean?” I asked feeling confused.

  Dylan reached across the table to take both of my hands in his. My father wants me to move to Paris right after graduation to head up the Paris office. I want you to come with me.”

  “I can't move to Paris, Dylan! I have a scholarship for NYC, and you know my parents won't allow it, since they pay for the expenses that my scholarship doesn't cover.”

  “Don't worry about the money. I'll take care of you, and you can finish your studies in Paris. After you graduate, we will get married. I'll even splurge for that big wedding you said you always dreamed about.”

  My lips trembled and my eyes burned with the emerging of unwelcomed tears. “What about the promises you gave me? You vowed to me that you were going to work for Montgomery, Incorporated, here in New York.” Misery overpowered my words as quiet tears streamed down my cheeks.

  “Why won't you come with me, Sage?” Going to Paris, I get to get my feet wet and run the company. I won't be under my father's shadow. I'll get to call the shots.” Dylan held my hands tighter when I tried to tug them away.

  “You lied to me.” I blubbered as more tears fell.

  “Don't cry, sweetheart. I tell you what; you can stay here and finish college, and I will come back to visit as much as possible. I'll even send for you. Please stop crying, babe; I promise you this won't be the end of the world. Your last two years at University will fly by, I promise.”

  “You promise?" I stared at Dylan with confusion in my heart. "Your promises mean nothing to me.” I finally pried my hands from his. Dylan's news had caused the sweet, perfect bubble I lived in to burst.

  “Don't do this, Sage. Please don't pull away from me when I need you the most. We need each other.”

  “Take me back to the campus,” I demanded. I didn't wait for Dylan's answer; instead, I stood and fled the restaurant in tea
rs.

  “Sage! Sage!” Dylan called my name repeatedly, but I didn't turn around.

  It was just my luck that a taxi was pulling up when I made it outside. I didn't think; I just reacted. I jumped in the cab and ordered the driver to go. I looked back to see Dylan run out of the restaurant after me. A look of pain radiated from his blue eyes, but my anger didn’t allow me to think rationally.

  “Go!” I demanded again, just as Dylan's eyes clashed with mine from the taxi's window. He started running my way, but the taxi had already taken off. I laid my head back against the seat and cried as if someone close to me had died. That night was the end for Dylan and me.

  For a long time after Dylan left, I felt as if I were standing on the outside of life looking in. I drifted through my studies and would have given up on a social life completely had it not been for my good friend, Tonya.

  Then one day, I caught a glimpse of the golden guy, Dylan Montgomery, on one of those entertainment magazines. He had a beautiful Parisian model on his arm at some big business affair. My heart was torn to pieces. Dylan’s image became more visible in the media as time went on. Then I saw him in Essy Magazine with another beautiful blonde-haired woman on his arms. I assumed beautiful slinky blondes were his new preference. I cried for days. My heart broke all over again, because love had called my name once upon a time. I couldn't trust that love would ever be mine again.

  At that moment, I knew he wasn’t pining away for me as I did him. Although he texted and called me religiously the first year he left for France, by the second year, his calls had gotten few and far between, until they dwindled down to a text here and there wishing me a Happy Holiday. But I still dreamed of Dylan's strong arms holding me, even though he held another, instead.

  Then three years later, I met Blake Coleman. I had never thought I would love again. I was at once at peace with everything that had happened before meeting him. At one time, my heart had carried such hurt that I couldn't entrust it to anyone else. Then Blake Coleman swept into my life one crisp spring day. Suddenly, my somberness turned into cheerfulness, my frowns turned into laughter, my tears dried, and the once gray matter of my heart opened up with the prospect of loving someone new. He was like a new beginning—full of energy, yet calm and patient—and he carried a rare beauty with the grace of a true gentleman.

  At one time, Dylan wrote poetry on my heart—now Blake was the orchestra playing beautiful melodies in my soul. He never took my newfound love for him for granted. My heart slowly mended, breaking the spell Dylan had once woven. The love that we once had had been voided. That didn't happen overnight, nor by happenstance. It happened because of Blake.

  Even on the days when I didn't feel love or want to be loved, Blake showed me unlimited love. I finally accepted that I was that woman who needed to know that she was loved. I needed to feel as if I were the answer instead of a problem to be solved. Blake made me his priority. He never made me wonder if I was ever the one. I needed to feel that poetry written in my heart again—the forever type of poetry that could withstand the test of time.

  Blake never pushed me to tell him of my pain. He just stood by my side, penetrating the hard barrier I had cloaked myself in; but his patience, love, and kindness eventually wore me down. I felt happiness bloom inside once again in brilliant shades of love. If love had a color, it would be Blake, in full high definition. With his wind-swept hair, tall muscular frame, neatly trimmed beard, and dark tan, Blake had the air of a confident man who knew what he wanted out of life. And he wanted me. He was five years older than my twenty-four years and was already established as a successful businessman in advertising at his company when we met.

  Blake loved me enough to see me through until I could trust his love. I was no longer on the outside looking in since he had drawn me into his existence. He made me his and burned the love I felt for another from my reality. I became his and Blake became mine one summer day in June, five years earlier when I had become his bride. I promised myself that Blake was the one for me. Almost five years and some months later, I felt our love would last an eternity and beyond.

  Or, so I hoped…

  Chapter 1

  Blake

  Before I laid eyes on Sage, I'd never considered myself a one-woman man. I had my alcoholic father to thank for my way of life before Sage swept into it and took my breath away the first time I saw her. I never imagined that I’d meet my future wife while on a date with another woman. And I definitely never believed that I would fall in love so hard that I would pursue Sage to the point of obsession. I suppose that is proof that a man can’t envisage who his true soul mate will be until fate intervenes.

  When Sage and I met, I was twenty-nine years old with a vision of making it to the top by the time I was thirty-five. I didn’t want any help from a father I hated. I distanced myself from him and his millions the day my mother passed away from a broken heart when I was in my last year at University. Thanks to my upbringing, I had been living my life as a single man who never dated the same woman more than two weeks at a time. Then one day a mocha-brown beauty walked into the restaurant with another woman by her side and sat right in my line of my vision. Her brown doe-eyes met mine, but she quickly looked away. Even in that one glance, I saw the hint of sadness that penetrated the depths of her beautiful, dark-brown orbs. Everything around me ceased to exist from the moment our eyes clashed.

  After the first time I saw her, chance intervened and we met again. Sage had been heading into Starbucks when I was heading out. I almost bumped into her but caught myself at the last minute. I made sure to introduce myself to her that day and even exchanged telephone numbers. Sage was hesitant at first, but I was relentless and on a pursuit to get to know her. Within ten months of meeting, I had convinced Sage to marry me and be my wife for a lifetime.

  My friends were surprised to see me settle down with one woman, but leaving all other women in my past was easy because of my love for Sage. She was loving, kind-hearted, amusing, clever, interesting, and different from any other woman I’d ever met. I found peace and a home with Sage. I was blessed beyond my wildest dreams. Oftentimes, I wondered what I ever did to deserve such happiness. Yes, I was beyond blissful that a woman like Sage chose me.

  I was a fuckup in the romance department until she saved me from a life of misery. Sage totally captivated me and still does to this day. She grew more beautiful, inside and outside, as time passed. A day didn't go by that I didn't realize how fortunate I was to have her as my life partner. My quest in life was to make her happy and never cry the river of tears my father made my mom shed over his inability to keep his dick in his pants.

  Sage was my beginning and ending. I wanted as many little brown babies with her as she was willing to give me. I couldn't wait until the day she became a mother to my children. We hadn't had any luck, though, and the doctors couldn't find a reason that she hadn’t become pregnant, besides the stress of trying to get pregnant. But Sage was scared that she would never become a mother to our future children. I tried to convince her that she was all I really needed in the end. I wanted to grow old with this woman by my side—until the end of my days on this earth.

  Chapter 2

  Blake

  “Good morning, sweetheart.”

  “Good morning,” Sage dryly replied. I could tell that my wife was ticked off in the stiff way she stood at the stove scrambling eggs. I had some making up to do. I never wanted to disappoint Sage, but sometimes when I became caught up in a project at work, it was inevitable. Long days and late nights had me missing my wife, and she undoubtedly missed me, too.

  “I'm sorry I missed dinner last night. I got hung up at the office longer than I should have. Are you angry? I should have taken a moment to call.”

  “Yeah, I am, and yeah, you should,” Sage replied with a pout on her full lips. She turned off the stove and removed the frying pan from the eye before turning to look at me.

  “That settles it then. I have to kiss you until I make it all be
tter again.”

  “No, you have to sit and eat your breakfast so that you won't be late for work,” she said.

  “Work and breakfast can wait. I'd rather have you for breakfast anyway." I stalked over and swept Sage up in my arms. Her arms automatically looped around my neck.

  “Blake, put me down this instant. I'm too heavy,” she stated as I started out of the kitchen and up the stairs that led to our bedroom.

  “Nonsense! You're as light as a feather.”

  “Liar! I tip the scales at one hundred and forty-five pounds, the last time I checked.”

  “More of you to love, my dear,” I growled and plopped her on the king-sized bed once I entered the master bedroom. She squealed as she did a bounce before settling herself on the goose-down pillows.

  “Blake, what are you doing?” Sage asked as I loosened my striped tie and removed it from around my neck.

  “There's only one way to ravish my wife. I'm removing my clothes, darling. Besides, you have on too many clothes. Remove them.” I watched as she removed her white tank top and slid out of her pajama bottoms. Her double D’s made my mouth water, and her hairless snatch made me crave a taste of her sweetness.

  “Assume the position. Spread 'em.” My cock jumped when my wife spread her thighs open wide. The position left her fat mound on perfect display for me to feast upon. Her brown folds were slick with her desire for me. My mouth watered some more. Once I'd kicked off my shoes and divested myself of my clothes, I climbed on the bed to settle my face in direct alignment with her pussy.

  “May I have a taste?” Sage let out a soft moan and nodded her head in an up and down motion.

  “Yes,” she finally voiced. I buried my nose between her slippery, succulent folds and took a sniff. “Fuck! You smell good enough to devour,” I grunted before sucking her clit into my mouth.

  “Oh, Blake, she crooned by the first swipe of my tongue. She grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked when my tongue entered her core. I gripped her thighs and splayed one leg over my shoulder, spreading her even further to feast at my leisure.