Tag: romantic short story

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

The Path of Least Dysfunction, A Series: Chapter 18

While I had seen and heard of the karaoke club, I was not in the least prepared for the experience of being inside. Generally, a bar has a rough clientele base: it’s a classy sit-down pub for the middle aged; it’s a bass-thumping dance club for the newly legal and almost legal to grind and shimmy; it’s a dark, seedy joint for ancient, lost souls to drown their despair.

This was a mixture of all of the above.

Currently, a 40-something brassy blonde with false eyelashes was belting out Gloria Gaynor’s I Will Survive like it was a church hymn. There was a scraggly eighty-year-old sitting at the bar, using his hands to conduct the music with enthusiasm. Men and women of all ages stood and sat and drank and talked and sang along. I’d never seen anything like it.

The club wasn’t very big, but I still had trouble finding the face that had lured me inside. As I was scanning the crowd Kelly elbowed me.

“Go get us some drinks.”

“What? Why should I buy? It’s your turn, Kell.”

“I’ll pay you back. And for god’s sake, do me a favor and just talk to him.”

My cheeks burned red and I scoffed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She grabbed my shoulders and forced me to look into her eyes.

“Don’t insult me. I’m not stupid. He’s standing at the bar, watching you, and has been since we walked in.”

That information made my stomach start doing flips. Still, I tried to lie to my best friend and hide the fact that I was already smitten.

“Maybe he’s a creep or a psychopath.”

She rolled her eyes and turned me around, pushing me toward the bar.

“I don’t for a second think that you believe that. Please put us all out of our misery.”

Sure enough, he was standing at the bar, trying to be sly about watching me. When our eyes met, he blushed a little but didn’t look away. To the contrary, he stood up taller and grinned a little wider.

Damn. I guess I was buying this round.

Not wanting to be too obvious, I didn’t try to squeeze into the space right next to him. I figured that if he was truly interested, he’d travel that extra three feet to me. Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait long.

“I was hoping I’d get a chance to meet you.”

Goosebumps. Immediately. Keep it together, Alexis.

I looked up at him with a half-smile. “You were?”

“Absolutely.” He held out his hand, even though we were basically pressed against each other in the crowd. “I’m Jamie.”

“Alexis.” When I shook his hand, the contact lasted longer than it should have. It seemed neither one of us wanted to be the first to let go.

“I feel like my whole life has been leading up to this moment, Alexis.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Wow. What a line.”

“Don’t you believe in love at first sight?”

“Is that what you think this is?”

He leaned in close so I could hear him over the noise. He smelled amazing. “I’m struggling to come up with a more feasible explanation for the way I’m feeling.”

“And how is that?”

He wasn’t touching me at all, but his breath on my ear and the side of my neck was oddly intimate.

“My heart is racing, I feel like I’m on fire, I can hardly catch my breath…”

“Maybe you have malaria.”

He cocked his head to the side and gave me a full smile. “Cute.”

“So…you’re telling me you DO believe in such fairy tales as love at first sight.”

Looking down at me, his smile softened. There was so much tenderness in his eyes my knees nearly buckled.

“I never used to.”

Kelly and I did not make it to the final stop that night.

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

The Path of Least Dysfunction, A Series: Chapter 17

By the time I got home, I had declined 12 phone calls and nearly 20 text messages. I switched the cell off.

The rest of the night was spent curled up on my bed, bawling like a child. I knew I had brought all of this on myself, but I had never felt so alone in my life.

Any time I felt this bad, my first impulse was to call Jamie. He was my rock and had been for over two years. Jamie always knew how to comfort me, how to help me work through my problems without making me feel worse. But somehow, I didn’t think he would be super sympathetic to my self-pity.

I held my hand in front of me, where I could admire the ring Jamie had picked out for me. He had spent more than a month shopping for the perfect style for me and, of course, he knocked it out of the park. Somehow, Jamie knew me so well he picked out the ring I never knew I had always wanted. He’d been doing things like that since the day we met.

Kelly and I were downtown that night to blow off steam after a long work week. The days of binge drinking and wild girl behavior were long past, so we were nursing drinks and hopping between bars on the square. We had challenged ourselves to have one drink at every bar before we called it quits. We’d been to the country/western bar, the martini bar, the Irish pub, and the sports bar. The only ones left were the video game arcade and the karaoke club. We were standing on the sidewalk debating which one would be the last stop for the night. That’s when I first saw Jamie.

He was at the back of a crowd of young men walking toward us, smiling at something the guys around him were talking about. He was wearing a Red Sox baseball cap, a white buttondown shirt with the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows, and a pair of slim, dark jeans. I think his smile was the first thing that got my heart racing. Kelly was still talking, probably asking me questions, but her words barely registered.

As the group got closer, Jamie finally looked up and saw us. It sounds so cliché, but I was lost in that moment. A cartoon princess movie would show a montage of birds singing, and rainbows arching across the sky, and flowers blooming just so the butterflies would have somewhere to land. The neon lights and traffic and noisy music spilling from every doorway was, to me, just as sweet and just as romantic.

Jamie fell farther to the back, his steps slowing and stuttering, like he was torn about which direction to go, with his group or a few steps farther – to me. Our eyes stayed locked on each other even as his friends turned into the karaoke bar and he followed them with some reluctance.

“Kell, let’s go do some karaoke.”

“Really? Can you sing?”

I shrugged. “I sound great with the radio. Come on!”

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

The Path of Least Dysfunction, A Series: Chapter 16

Sunday dinner devolved quickly. Dad and I returned to my mom and sisters silently carrying on with food prep. None of them looked up when we came in, they all just kept on viciously chopping, peeling, and sautéing like those veggies had done something wrong, instead of us.

I attempted to apologize, as did Dad. Our pleas fell on deaf ears, however. My presence wasn’t so much as acknowledged, let alone forgiven. Since it appeared that we would, eventually, have a dinner to eat, I decided to sit in the living room with my dad.

Turns out that was the wrong decision. I could feel the piercing stares and waves of disgust washing over me the entire time it took for dinner to be served. Even then, not one of them invited us to join them. We simply saw that the food was done and decided to take our chances.

We were seated around the table, the only sound the clinking and scraping of silverware on plates. It was hard to enjoy the gourmet meal I was putting in my mouth because I felt so miserable. The air felt thick and heavy with judgment of what was seen as my horrible and selfish behavior. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I set my fork down nicely next to my plate and folded my hands in my lap.

“Can we please talk about this?”

There was an immediate lack of movement from anyone in that dining room. After an unusually uncomfortable pause, my mom was the only one to speak.

“No.”

“Judy…” My dad tried to smooth things out with her, placing a hand on her arm and speaking in a quiet voice. She was having none of that, though.

“Don’t you start with me, Jim! Don’t you dare. You’re as bad as she is! Sneaking out without a word to anyone!”

“There was no way to get a word IN, mom! You all were screaming at each other so loud a bomb could have gone off and you wouldn’t have noticed!” My resolve to be calm and contrite was beginning to unravel.

Lisa snorted. “Oh, right. This whole situation is OUR fault?”

“I didn’t say that. But may I point out that its nobody’s decision but MINE when or even whether I marry Jamie?!”

“Alexis, you wouldn’t!” Maggie gasped and stared at me with wide eyes.

I looked around the table at these people I loved – my mom, fuming at everyone around her; Maggie on the verge of tears at the idea that I might not get married; my dad looking like he was trying to figure out how to avoid sleeping on the couch that night; and Lisa showing zero emotion with her eyes glued to some imaginary spot on the wall – and I couldn’t be there one second longer.

I scraped my plate into the trash, thanked them all for a wonderful dinner, and slammed out the door without looking back.

Huh. Seemed I had developed a ‘modus operandi’ of running away from my problems. I made a mental note to see someone about that.

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

The Path of Least Dysfunction, A Series: Chapter 15

After my dad joined the conversation it got exceptionally loud in that little kitchen. Not because of him – my father was probably the calmest, most thoughtful human being I had ever encountered. Jamie was a close second.

No, my mom and my sisters decided that they each knew what my problem was. And they each knew exactly how to fix it.

My mother said I was being silly and overreacting to a case of cold feet.

“Everyone gets them! But that’s no reason to go traipsing around with ex-boyfriends!”

She felt that I should just quit messing around, put on my big-girl panties, and do what I was supposed to do. Judy then launched into a tirade about whiny millennials.

The fix suggested by Lisa was to just call off the wedding. It was glaringly apparent to her that I just didn’t want to get married. I was too young and shouldn’t rush into anything. She also felt I was being tremendously unfair to Jamie, stringing him along.

“The only decent thing to do is to cut him loose and stay single for a year or longer. Marriage isn’t for everyone.

Maggie, with her imagined wealth of experience in all things, said that Jamie and I had been together too long and that I was simply feeling restless. She thought that I needed to get away to Las Vegas for a wild and crazy weekend.

“What happens in Vegas, and all that! Imagine blowing off some steam with an anonymous stranger. Sow some wild oats before settling down – you’ll feel like a whole new woman!”

Not surprisingly, my mother lost her damn mind at Maggie’s suggestion, Maggie thought Lisa was bonkers to think that being alone was the best course of action, and Lisa couldn’t believe that our mother would blindly overlook my feelings and push me into some sexist expectation from the Dark Ages.

Each one was shouting louder than the next and ignoring me, completely. I watched silently from the far side of the kitchen until tears blurred my vision. While Mom, Lisa, and Maggie were distracted, my dad nudged me with his elbow and waggled his eyebrows.

The cavalry had arrived.

It was simple to escape the house. None of them heard anything but their own voices at this point. My dad and I kept quiet until we had turned the corner a few houses down.

“You know they’re going to think I just ran away. Again. Mom’s going to shit herself.”

Thankfully, Jim was not as shocked by foul language as Judy was, and he chuckled under his breath.

“I have a feeling you’re right about that. But don’t worry – I’ll tell them that this time you were kidnapped.” He slung an arm around my shoulders and grinned down at me.

I had so much on my mind, and I had no idea how to express any of it.

“Dad, do you think I should just call off the wedding?”

He squeezed my shoulder. My dad would take his time to answer, carefully measuring each word before it was uttered.

“Kiddo, it doesn’t matter what I think – or what your mom or your sisters think, either. The only people this wedding should really matter to are you and Jamie.”

I sighed and laid my head on his shoulder.

“I know, Dad. In my heart I know you’re right. But I can’t help thinking that Lisa has a point. Jamie deserves better. Maybe the fact that I’m hesitating is – is proof that this isn’t what I want. That I’m just going along with it because it’s what’s expected.”

“Is that how you feel?”

Was it? Everything was such a mess I couldn’t tell what I felt.

“Did I tell you I ran into Doug last week?”

Judging by the sudden tension in his body, I had not. It was no secret my dad had zero love for Doug. And that was even without knowing the whole story. Losing your virginity on a bathroom counter was NOT something you discussed with your father.

“Don’t worry, it was purely an accident. I know what went wrong there. And he’s still an asshole. Hopefully he was drunk enough that he won’t remember he knows me, much less that he saw me.”

Dad shook his head and grunted.

“That kid was a dickhead.” I couldn’t help laughing. “Sorry, Alexis, but he was!”

“Still is, Dad.” I frowned at the sidewalk. “But running into him made me even more worried about the future. I thought I was in love with Doug.”

My dad stopped cold in the middle of the sidewalk and turned me so he could see my face.

“Jamie is NOT Doug.”

“I know. But – ”

“It sounds to me like you’re trying to talk yourself out of getting married. Like you don’t trust your own feelings.”

I groaned. “At this point, I don’t, Dad.”

He tucked my hand in the crook of his arm and started steering us back home.

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

The Path of Least Dysfunction, A Series: Chapter 14

Every Sunday, my sisters and I descended on our childhood home to cook dinner for our parents. It became a tradition after my older sister, Lisa, moved to the other side of town for college. Maggie and I had missed her so much, and she came home every weekend to do laundry anyway, that we just decided it should be a thing. That was almost ten years ago.

This particular Sunday was about three weeks after the bridal shop ‘incident’. Once they all knew I was safe, they hadn’t pushed for more information. The last two weekends had slipped by in pleasant conversation and homemade pie without a scene.

But my mother had reached her limit.

My sisters and I were dancing around the kitchen, working together like a clunky, rusty machine, but still getting the job done. Dad was in the living room watching one of the news channels, giving them back his commentary. My mom was sitting on a stool at the kitchen island, trying to stay out of our way for fear of being trampled.

We were singing along to the radio as we worked, laughing at each other and lost in the music. Then Judy switched off the sound and slapped her hands on the marble counter.

“Okay, that’s about enough!”

Maggie nibbled at the celery she’d been chopping.

“We weren’t THAT bad, were we? I mean, Alexis was a little flat, but otherwise – “

“That’s not what I was referring to, and you know it.”

Tugging at her sleeve, Lisa steered Maggie to the far side of the kitchen. It seemed I was the only one not quite grasping the situation and I continued to root around in the fridge.

“Alexis Marie! I have been patient. I have tried to be understanding. But, by god, I deserve an explanation!”

There was complete silence following her outburst. I even heard my dad lower the volume on the television. That was kind of his thing; listening without obviously listening. Maggie and Lisa were huddled in the corner, well out of reach of our enraged mother – and me.

“Well?”

Well, indeed. Once again, I was faced with the task of trying to explain something I wasn’t sure I understood, myself.

“I am sorry for sneaking out on you like that. I don’t have an excuse. It was rude and selfish – ”

“And childish.” Mom gave me a glare that dared me to contradict her.

“And childish. I should have apologized a long time ago.”

That seemed to soften Judy’s resolve a bit. She raised her eyebrows, crossed her arms, and nodded.

“Thank you. We sat out there for a good hour before anyone realized you weren’t there. Poor Janice thought you had been kidnapped, or something.”

Shoving my hands in my pockets, I leaned back against the refrigerator. All I could do was stare at the floor and hope the words to make things better would materialize before me. Thankfully, my mom couldn’t stand the silence and the tension.

“Oh, sweetie. What on earth made you run away? Was it all just overwhelming?”

I shrugged. “A little. It’s just…I was looking at myself in that mirror and it was all so real all of a sudden. I guess I panicked.”

“Don’t you want to marry Jamie anymore?”

“Oh god Lisa, yes! I do want to marry him! Just not…yet.”

Maggie took the stool next to Mom and slung an arm over her shoulders.

“Can you believe this shit, Judy?”

We all snorted – all except Judy.

“Margaret! Watch your mouth! And since when don’t you call me Mom?”

“Since I am a grown, independent woman.”

“…who raids mom’s kitchen rather than go shopping for herself.” Lisa dodged her sister’s playful swat and wrapped me in a hug.

“I heard you were with Chris a couple weeks ago.”

Everyone perked up at Lisa’s statement, mouths round in shock.

I rolled my eyes.

“Oh my god, you guys! I wasn’t ‘with’ him in the Biblical sense! Is that what you think of me? We went to dinner. That is ALL.”

My dad, showing he was following along with the conversation just fine, thank you very much, piped up without turning around.

“How is old Chris, anyway? I always liked that kid.”

Turning on her stool, my mom was the one to reply.

“Jim, I’ve told you all this before. He’s divorced and lives with his little boy in the guest house on his parents’ farm. You’ve seen them.”

He waved his hand, lazily in the air. “Oh sure, sure. I remember that now.”

After a short silence, Dad hoisted himself from his armchair and wandered into the kitchen.

“Lex, what were you doing going out with Chris? Are things okay with you and Jamie?”

Well now. That WAS a question, wasn’t it?

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

The Path of Least Dysfunction, A Series: Chapter 13

Doug and I only dated for a few weeks, all told. He had wooed me, bringing me flowers, giving me compliments. After being rejected by Chris, it was a nice change to feel wanted and adored.

Our relationship turned physical pretty quickly. Looking back, that was my error; I had assumed that because he was younger than I was, he was more innocent, too. But I learned Doug was very skilled in the art of manipulation.

Chris and I had never had sex. We loved each other, but we just never got to that point – it never seemed necessary. Sure, there was a lot of making out (top of my list of favorite things, remember?) and a fair amount of heavy petting, but we were both still virgins when we broke up.

Knowing what I know now, Doug’s behavior was classic sociopath. He zeroed in on me, sensing my vulnerability and my need to see the good in others. He turned every situation to his advantage, making other people think that when he got in trouble, it wasn’t his fault. I caught him in a couple of lies but he gaslighted me into believing I was paranoid or overreacting.

I liked kissing Doug. I liked the way he made me feel, the things he whispered in my ear. He wanted to have sex, be the first for each other, but I wasn’t quite ready. He was disappointed but ultimately understanding each time I put on the brakes. But that didn’t stop him from trying to push things just a little farther every time we were together.

We had gotten a hotel room to ring in New Year’s Eve with our friends – well, the parent of one of our friends got the room. None of us was old enough. There was plenty of alcohol, the really horrible stuff that got you drunk quickly and made you sick the next day. The whole night, Doug and I hadn’t been actually fighting, but he had been distant and quiet. When I pressed him about it, he shrugged it off. He finally told me that he was so crazy about me and couldn’t stop thinking about touching me, and that I was making him miserable by saying no. Didn’t I love him?

Damn, he was good.

I had been drinking plenty of orange Mad Dog and was feeling pretty amorous. As the night wore on and I thought about it more and more, that addled, drunk teen brain was convinced that Doug really loved me, that I really wanted to have sex – and to have sex with him – and that I was finally  READY.

So, when I whispered coyly into his ear that I wanted him, he unceremoniously pulled me into the bathroom and we proceeded to fuck quickly and uncomfortably on the hotel bathroom counter, with everyone in the other room knowing exactly what was going on behind that door.

Not my proudest moment.

After that night, he became even more and more distant. There was always something else he had to do rather than take me out, or he couldn’t stay on the phone with me for more than a few minutes. There were no more flowers, no more sweet nothings in my ear. In their place arose hurtful criticisms disguised as backhanded compliments. He resorted to name-calling – nothing really hurtful, but instead of calling me sweetie or babe he started calling me dork and loser. All under the cloak of quirky terms of endearment.

I got off work early one weekend and decided to surprise him with dinner. Well, he had a surprise for me, too.

A coworker named Dawn, naked in his bed.

I screamed and yelled and cried and he blamed me for showing up unannounced, for not being more willing and available. He had needs that I wasn’t fulfilling.

What a jackass.

That had been a hard lesson for me to learn. After Doug, I didn’t date for almost a year. When I did, the summer before college, there was very little physical contact. One boy – so sweet and shy and kind – only got hugs on my front porch after our dates. For three months.

The last I had heard of Doug was that he had joined the Navy, following in his old man’s footsteps. I had convinced myself that I’d never have to see him again and had taken great comfort in that thought.

And yet, here he was. Leaning in too close, telling me sexist and dirty jokes. He never realized that I had been giving him the death glare for a solid five minutes.

He stumbled forward, pushing himself up against me and breathing heavily.

“Come on, Alexis, let’s get out of here. Relive some old times? Give me a chance to remind you what it’s like to be with a REAL man.”

Kelly materialized out of nowhere, throwing her arm around me and squeezing herself between me and Doug.

“Lex! Where’s the freaking wine? I’m dying over here!”

She paid the bartender, handed me the two glasses, and steered me toward our table with a high-pitched, “Byeeee!” thrown over her shoulder at a drunk and confused Doug.

His ball sack had been saved by Kelly that night, and he never even knew it.

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

The Path of Least Dysfunction, A Series: Chapter 12

This couldn’t be happening.

Doug had crawled out from under his slimy rock somewhere. I thought I had scraped him off many years ago and had clung to the idea that I’d never have to see his smug face again.

After Chris and I had broken up, I was feeling pretty bad about myself. I turned to my work friends more often – Doug being one of them – and he fit in with everyone pretty well. We had worked together for nearly a year, but it wasn’t until my breakup that we became good friends. We hung out with our work crowd and talked on the phone almost every night. He was a lot of fun and very attentive and, after my devastating heartbreak, was a willing shoulder for me to cry on.

Then things started to change. It was subtle at first; suggesting we go see a movie or that I should come over to hang out. I would always offer to call the rest of our friends to join us, at which point he’d suddenly remember something else he had to do.

One night he confessed that he was in love with me. I laughed it off – he was younger than me, and kind of goofy, even if he was cute and charming. He tried multiple times to convince me we’d make a great couple; we were already close friends, we got along so well, we had fun together – why shouldn’t we take it to the next level? I turned him down over and over. I explained that I valued him as a friend and didn’t want to ruin that. That’s not what he wanted to hear, so he started to withdraw. He wouldn’t take my calls or was monosyllabic when he did.

Soon, he laid down an ultimatum. He wanted to be a couple. If I couldn’t do that, he couldn’t be friends with me. It was too painful for him. At that point, I had been leaning on him a lot for distraction from the sadness of my breakup with Chris, and I didn’t want to lose him. I hemmed and hawed for the weekend and finally agreed to go out on a date.

I cringe every time I think about it. What an idiot I was.

“Alexis, babe, you look pretty good! You’ve definitely aged well…” He sneered at me. “Are you surprised to see me?”

Trying to pass off a grimace as a smile, I hoped the lighting was dim enough he couldn’t tell.

“Doug, if I had a list of the people I least expected to see here tonight, you would be at the top of that list.”

He puffed out his chest and smirked. “Damn straight, I would!”

He would take that as a compliment.

“What have you been up to while I’ve been gone? Hanging around, missing me?” He leaned back and let his eyes wander all over me. I immediately wanted to vomit. “I don’t see a wedding ring…”

“Nope. But I see you have one. Congratulations.”

Like he had just remembered that he was married, he frowned at his hand.

“Oh yeah, that. No big deal. I hung out with Jill for a few months and then she got knocked up when I was home on leave. There was no way I was going to let her raise my kid without me. Marrying her seemed the best way to keep control of the situation and make sure she wasn’t out whoring around.”

My jaw dropped. There was absolutely nothing I could think of to say to that.

The bartender set two shots down in front of Doug and he slid one over to me.

“Come on, let’s celebrate!”

“Celebrate what, exactly?”

He leaned in close so I could smell his cheap cologne and the waves of alcohol on his breath.

“Us running into each other like this, baby. It’s great to see you, but I’d love to see even more of you, if you catch my drift.” He pulled away and winked.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

“Thanks Doug, but my shot days are well behind me. Please, help yourself.”

With that, he shrugged and downed them both, shaking his arms with a loud, “Whoo!”

“You’re married, huh? And with a baby. Is your wife here?”

He smirked and shook his head slowly.

“Nope. I am free as a bird tonight. When I go out, I don’t want the old ball and chain hanging on me. Jill takes care of the kid and I send her money while I’m out on deployment. When I’m home, she does whatever I want, whenever I want it. Other than that, she doesn’t get into my business.”

I didn’t think it was possible, but Doug had become an even bigger misogynist douche.

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?”

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.

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