The Color of Forever Read Free Page A

“I don’t know, but either way, my heart is broken. He’s ruined me for anyone else, because how will I ever trust someone not to do this to me again?”
    “I’m so sorry,” Bailey said with compassion. “I wish there was something I could say to make it better. To take the pain away.”
    “I wish there was, too,” I replied, “but there’s nothing anyone can say.” I fought to collect myself. “I’m just going to have to get through this somehow and hope that in time, I’ll get over him and find a way to move on.”
    We sat in silence for a long moment.
    “Why can’t people just resist the desire to cheat?” I asked heatedly, lifting my gaze. “I understand feeling attracted to someone different—that can happen—but why not just wait for it to pass? Exercise some self-discipline, for pity’s sake. Go home and make love to your wife.”
    “I agree wholeheartedly,” Bailey said with a nod. “You’re absolutely right.”
    “And honestly, what marriage, after seven years, is still as passionate as it was in the first two? No relationship can sustain that kind of madness for an entire lifetime. But if you’re committed to a life together, and you enjoy each other’s company, shouldn’t that be enough?”
    “Absolutely.”
    My shoulders slumped with resignation. “I just wish Mark had been more willing to have a baby sooner. It might have given him something else to focus on besides himself.” I lowered my eyes and shook my head. “Poor Mariah,” I said, regarding Bailey in the warm lamplight. “I hope she knows what she’s getting into. Because you know what they say: Once a cheater, always a cheater.”
    Bailey sighed with resignation. “I wonder if that will be true in his case.”
    “Only time will tell.”

Chapter Five

    The thing I remember most about the crash—besides the strange, unfamiliar life that flashed before my eyes—was the sound of the cyclist’s wheel a few lengths in front of me, clipping the wheel of another cyclist beside him. My awareness of the impact sent my blood racing through my veins with white-hot terror because we were traveling at a tremendous speed downhill, coasting around a bend with nothing but a guardrail to keep us from flying over the edge, into the ravine below.
    Both riders’ bikes began to wobble, and my heart exploded like a fireball in my chest.
    Time stood still as the rider in front of me became tangled in a jungle of spokes and wheels and went flying over his handlebars.
    In a panic, I squeezed my brakes and tried to swerve around the pileup, but everything was happening so fast, it was impossible to avoid it. Another rider went down in front of me and suddenly I was catapulted through the air, over a sea of carnage and mangled bicycles and spinning wheels.
    In that instant, everything went silent and still as I flew toward the guardrail and steep cliff beyond. My husband’s face appeared in my mind, but strangely, it wasn’t Mark’s face I saw. It was another man I didn’t recognize, and yet I knew him intimately. He was a good man, a faithful man, the father of my child, who loved our son as deeply as I did. Our boy’s name was Logan, and he was the most beautiful baby imaginable. After a long, hard labor, I held him in my arms and wept tears of joy and love, while my husband kissed the top of my head and told me how much he loved me.
    Moments flashed by like shooting stars—incredible moments that filled me with exhilaration, euphoria and hope. Our son took his first steps at eleven months; my husband put together the swing set in the backyard; I said good-bye to Logan on the first day of preschool, went home and cried over the loss of his sweet presence in the house during school hours.
    We spent summers in Maine, where Logan played on the beach and caught hermit crabs with his cousins.
    My husband— his name was Chris —gave me diamond earrings for our fifth anniversary.
    I was hesitant to have another child. A part of me was