Sharon L. Clark, Author

Month: March 2019

romance story, romantic serial, short story chapters, sharon clark, Sharon L. Clark Author

The Path of Least Dysfunction, A Series: Chapter 11

“Wow. You kinda suck.”

I glared at Kelly. But her blunt candor was one of the things I appreciated the most about her.

We were sitting at one of our favorite pubs, unwinding after a hectic week. When I had finished filling her in on the last time Jamie had spoken to me, her jaw dropped open and she told me what I already knew.

I groaned, putting my face in my hands.

“I shouldn’t have called him. I know that now. But I missed him! I wanted to see him so badly. I mean, my feelings for him haven’t changed. But I’m just not ready. I need to see this through.”

Kelly swallowed the last of her wine and shook her head at me.

“Do you, though? What exactly do you think you’ll gain from this little journey?”

Heaving a sigh that carried all the heaviness in my heart, I grabbed our empty glasses and headed toward the bar.

“I’m gonna need at least a couple more of these to try to explain that.

I was lost in my own head while I waited for the fresh glasses of wine – my Moscato, Kelly’s Merlot. It hadn’t escaped my attention that my behavior had been pretty callous. I didn’t think about anything past my own selfish wants and, because of that, I had again hurt the one person I loved most in the world.

After he left, Jamie didn’t take my calls. I tried several times, leaving at least three messages. Finally, I got a text.

I just can’t right now, Lex. I need a minute.

I had cried when I read that.

I’m so sorry.

That exchange had been six days ago. I hadn’t tried to reach him again, and there was radio silence on his end, too.

Maybe I should just drop all of this. I loved Jamie, he loved me – what else did I need to know? I should just plan this wedding and settle into marital bliss with the better half of me.

But I knew I couldn’t do that. Not yet.

I wasn’t just being obstinate when I said I needed to see this through, that it was important to me. There were things in my life I had to face, things I wanted to iron out or tie up or resolve. If I was going to be the wife he deserved and start a life with Jamie that would be forever, I couldn’t walk away.

“Well, well…look what the cat dragged in.”

Shit.

Without looking up, I knew the face I’d see. I didn’t want to turn around. I wanted to will him away simply because he was one of the biggest mistakes of my life.

And because I didn’t have the energy to be civil rather than tell him to fuck off in the middle of a crowded club.

Dark hair and brown eyes leaned across the bar, forcing himself into my line of vision. I pretended that I hadn’t heard him and that I was shocked to find him staring me in the face.

“Doug! What in the world are you doing here?”

romance story, romantic serial, short story chapters, sharon clark, Sharon L. Clark Author

The Path of Least Dysfunction, A Series: Chapter 10

I woke up feeling more comfortable and content than I had in months. Nestled against Jamie’s shoulder, I knew it was where I wanted to be.

He opened his eyes and smiled. I loved that smile: The way the corners of his mouth lifted just a little, sleepy eyes taking in all my bedhead glory.

“Hey.” He kissed my forehead. “Coffee?”

“Yes, please!”

I followed him to the kitchen a few minutes later. He was in just his boxers, two steaming mugs already out on the counter while he scrambled some eggs. It was doubtful I’d ever get tired of that sight.

Jamie had been at my door within an hour of getting my call. I hadn’t realized just how much I’d missed him until he was there in front of me.

He had given me a tentative smile, his hands jammed into his pockets and his shoulders tense and hunched.

“I’m glad you called, Lex. I missed you.”

I had no control over the tears that pooled in my eyes – or apparently over my body. I launched myself at him, knocking him back against the door in my need to be near him. We had peeled our clothes off right there in the entryway, making our way to the bedroom an hour later to do it all over again.

“What’s on the agenda for today?”

He shrugged. “Whatever you want. Want to go see the new exhibit at the Art Center? We haven’t been there for months. Or we could scout out some venues. We should know where we’re having the wedding before we decide on the theme or your dress or anything. It might be a tight schedule, but we could still shoot for the original date – ”

I stared at him, my mug frozen halfway to my mouth.

“What?” He looked genuinely confused. My stomach dropped.

“Jamie, I’m not ready yet.”

Setting the spatula on the counter and switching off the burner, he turned his full attention to me. I hated the tightness around his eyes. Actually, I hated myself for putting it there.

“What do you mean? I thought that’s why you called me last night. You talked to your old boyfriend, didn’t you?”

“Well, yeah, but only one.”

He crossed his arms and leaned back against the cupboard.

“You need to talk to every guy you’ve ever dated before you can marry me?”

Rolling my eyes – so I didn’t have to meet his – I muttered, “Not every guy…”

“Alexis, I understand cold feet or wedding jitters, but this feels like something more than that.”

I cast around for a way to make him understand, but all the words I tried out sounded shitty.

“Lex, it – it feels like you’re looking for a better offer.”

“How could you even think that?”

Throwing his hands in the air, he turned back to the stove.

“What else am I supposed to think? After two years together, I ask you to marry me and suddenly now you need closure.” He was slamming plates and utensils onto the countertop as he served up breakfast. “Your timing is bullshit.”

I had to agree with him.

“Jamie, I’m not looking to start something with these other guys. I love YOU. I want to marry YOU. It’s just…I don’t know how to explain it. This is important to me, to put my past to rest so I can build a future with you. A…forever. And to KNOW it’s forever.”

Leaning over the counter he took both my hands in his. He stared at our hands, rubbing his thumbs over my knuckles. I could see the muscles in his jaw clenching as he tried to work out what to say.

When he looked up, the sadness in his eyes was a knife in my chest.

“That’s all I want too, Alexis. A future with you.” He sighed, his shoulders rising and falling. Releasing my hands, he set a plate in front of me, scraping his into the garbage, and walked out of the kitchen. “I guess I’ll have to wait.”

He reappeared half-dressed, carrying the rest of his clothes. Without looking at me, he blew through the room. The door slammed behind him, but I caught his parting words.

“What choice do I have?”

writing motivation

Strength in Numbers

You would think that writing is a fairly solitary endeavor. One person, sitting at a computer – or typewriter, or notebook – creating a new world and new characters. Authors don’t need people around to distract them – do they?

On a whim, I participated in National Novel Writing Month back in 2017, just to see if I could reach that 50,000 word goal in thirty days. It was fun and challenging and I loved every minute of it. By the end of November I had surpassed the word count goal and “won” NaNoWriMo – but that wasn’t the best thing I gained from the experience.

During that time, I attended a number of write-ins where NaNoWriMo participants in the area gathered at a specified location. The municipal liaison, Mary, set timers and challenged each writer to put down as many words as possible. She was encouraging and funny, teasing those she knew and cheering every single writer who showed up.

I needed that.

It was immediately obvious that there was something motivating about being in a room with other creatives. Is there an aura about writers that wafts into the air and encircles everyone nearby, merging with and energizing the other writers in the room? I don’t have any idea, but I sure dig that visual.

What I do know, however, is that this camaraderie between authors is an essential component to my own creativity. I was heartbroken when November ended and I no longer had a reason to meet up with these people – or to write. I hadn’t finished my story but I couldn’t make myself sit down and get to the end.

That is, until I found out about Camp NaNoWriMo.

I gathered my own group, organizing meet-ups throughout the month of April and again in July. We shared our story ideas, asked each other for advice or how to get out of a sticky scene. Over the spring and summer, I not only finished my story but added more than another 90,000 words! Unfortunately, now I am faced with editing that story down to a manageable length.

It’s harder than it sounds…

Now I meet with a group to write every week and I consider these people my good friends, even outside of writing. I continue to plan and organize writing groups for Camps and I find great joy in encouraging others to believe in themselves and in their writing – to an obnoxious extent. When I go more than a week without a writing group, my creativity and my mood suffer. Writing with other creatives helps to keep me motivated and boosts my creativity.

There is definitely strength in numbers.

What creative boost have you discovered that surprised you? Do you prefer to write alone or with other people? Comment below and let me know what keeps you on your creative path!

romance story, romantic serial, short story chapters, sharon clark, Sharon L. Clark Author

The Path of Least Dysfunction, A Series: Chapter 9

The drive home must have been navigated by muscle memory, because I was far too preoccupied with nostalgia. Memories of Chris flooded my brain, playing like a ‘Greatest Hits’ movie.

I remembered our first kiss, in the laundry room of Kelly’s basement. It wasn’t the first for either of us, but it was ours. Kissing Chris definitely ranked near the top of my list of best things ever.

The first time he told me he loved me, he whispered it softly in my ear. It was a tender and romantic scene – the kind of thing every teen girl dreams about. That is, it was until I blurted out, ‘WHAT?’ because I hadn’t quite caught what he said. He repeated it then – and many times after – but I had already ruined the moment.

At least it was memorable, right?

When I got home, I found my shoebox of high school memorabilia, going for the deep-dive. Some people threw away everything they associated with an ex.

Not me.

I kept nearly everything Chris had given me. Postcards from when his family went on summer vacation; pictures of the two of us from dances or just goofing around; letters he had written me when we were in college. Reading through everything, I was comforted by how kind he had been, how he had made me feel so important. I didn’t want to forget him. I didn’t want to forget the time we spent together. Why would I? Chris was the first boy I ever loved, and part of me would always love him.

Lying on my couch later, staring at the ceiling, I came to a conclusion: While I loved Chris, it wasn’t romantic. My love for him was built of an appreciation for everything we had shared. He was right that our relationship wasn’t supposed to last. That’s not how first loves work.

But god, was I lucky he had been mine.

I picked up my phone to distract myself with some social media stupidity. As the phone came to life, the lock screen picture flashed open and I forgot all about the absurdity of the internet.

Jamie.

His face filled the screen and my heart melted. It had been more than a week since I’d seen him. With one finger, I traced the line of his jaw, the sweep of his bangs over his forehead, the dimples that framed his mouth. He was laughing and reaching for the phone in the shot, trying to stop me from taking his picture.

That was the day he proposed to me.

We had taken a long weekend trip to Scottsdale, trying to escape the frigid Midwestern winter, if only for a few days. Jamie planned a day trip for some hiking and sight-seeing. But before we started the climb, we had been warned by the locals to watch out for snakes. Mainly rattlesnakes.

Jamie had become so paranoid about being murdered by a poisonous reptile that when a rabbit rushed across our path he jumped two feet in the air and screamed like a little girl. I couldn’t stop laughing and had to take a picture of him immediately so I could remind him of that moment long after we had left Arizona.

Laughing almost as hard as I was, he lunged for the phone just as I snapped the photo. I spun out of his reach and he pretended to stumble to the ground. But when I turned, he was on one knee, holding up the most beautiful diamond ring I had ever seen, asking me to share his life.

I couldn’t dial his number fast enough.

romance story, romantic serial, short story chapters, sharon clark, Sharon L. Clark Author

The Path of Least Dysfunction, A Series: Chapter 8

“Why did we break up?”

Oops. I had intended to be far more subtle about bringing that up. But I was having so much fun with Chris I had started to forget why I was there.

Blurting it out in such a ham-handed manner was definitely worth it to get a spit-take and a hearty laugh from him, though.

“What?! Where did that come from?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Don’t you ever think about it? Don’t you ever wonder what went wrong?”

He didn’t answer right away but shifted slightly in his chair. He drummed his fingers on the table – a move I recognized as his standard stalling tactic.

“Nothing ‘went wrong’ Lexi. Things end.”

“We were in love though, right?”

A beat. “Yes.”

“So why didn’t it last?”

Chris leaned his elbows on the table and stared at me.

“Because we were 17…? I don’t know. It wasn’t supposed to last forever. It’s called a ‘first love’ for a reason.”

I blinked. “But how did you know it wasn’t going to last? How is a person expected to know the difference between a fleeting love and…and forever love? Is it even really ‘love’ if it doesn’t last?”

He looked like I had slapped him. Damn.

“You…don’t think it was real love?”

Please, Earth, open up and swallow me. Now.

“I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

“Are you having some kind of existential crisis?” He sat straight up, his eyes wide. “You aren’t dying, are you?”

Our eyes locked and then we both burst out laughing. That, apparently, was the cue for the waiter to bring us our checks. Chris tried to grab both of them, but I slapped my hand down on his.

“Don’t you DARE!”

“Come on, Lexi. What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t pay for dinner?”

I tried to peel his fingers up off the paper.

“The kind of gentleman who is here at MY invitation. This was my idea. I should be the one to pay.”

He shook his head and refused to budge.

“Don’t be a caveman, Chris! I am perfectly capable of covering both checks.”

He glared at me and I glared right back. If he wanted a staring contest, he’d get one, and he would lose.

“God, you have always been stubborn.” He slid his hand out from under mine. “Fine. But you’re not paying for me!”

I grinned and threw my fists into the air.

“Victory!”

He walked me out to my car, showing me pictures of his son on his phone. I didn’t have baby fever – nothing even close to resembling it – but that kid was damn adorable. Curly blond hair, green eyes, chubby cheeks and the biggest smile. The spitting image of his dad.

“He’s almost 5 and he’s my best buddy. I miss him when he’s with his mom, but Angie’s really great with him.”

I handed him his phone.

“Now, I could tell you why that relationship didn’t work out.” He shuffled his feet and smirked at me. “But us?”

Shaking his head slowly, he tucked one of my stray curls behind my ear.

“Chris…”

He took a deep breath. “My mom already told me you’re engaged, Lexi. I didn’t come here with any kind of expectation beyond spending time with someone who was an integral part of my life – of who I am.”

I don’t really know what I was expecting from Chris, but he seemed to know exactly what I needed anyway. He opened his arms and I leaned into him, pressing my cheek into his shoulder while he rubbed soothing circles on my back.

“There’s no way to know when love is forever.” He kissed the top of my head. “You don’t read the last chapter of a book first, do you? If you know how it’s going to end…well, what’s the fun in that?”

I sighed and clung to him for a few seconds longer.