When your other half leaves you
After her fiancé breaks up with her in their restaurant, leaving her with no explanation other than an apology scrawled on a napkin, Eira no longer feels at home in North Carolina. So she leaves for the Florida coast, hoping that rebuilding her life will be easier somewhere new. But while her new home may hold no trace of the past, life doesnt always turn out the way you plannedand suddenly, a chance meeting turns Eiras life upside down.
how do you know who you are?
Finally faced with the opportunity to ask her questions about love, lies, and the life she thought was hers, Eira realises that hearing the answers is going to hurt. Yet if she is brave enough to listen, finding the missing piece of the past might lead her to a brighter future than she ever thought possible
The Secret of Us is the bittersweet new novel from Liesel Schmidt, perfect for fans of Cecilia Ahern, Lucy Dillon and Jojo Moyes.
Also by Liesel Schmidt
Coming Home to You
The Secret of Us
Liesel Schmidt
Copyright
HQ
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2015
Copyright © Liesel Schmidt 2015
Liesel Schmidt asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
E-book Edition © June 2015 ISBN: 9781474033589
Version date: 2018-07-23
LIESEL SCHMIDT
lives in Pensacola, Florida, where she spends her time writing, drawing, and reading everything she can get her hands on. She is currently working on her next novel and spends most of her days busily writing freelance for a list of local magazines that sometimes makes her head spin in a dizzy attempt to keep all the deadlines straight! When she has a few free moments, Liesel plunks away at her blog, Finding Words (http://fyoword.blogspot.com/), where she posts product reviews and offers her readers a peek at the inner musings of a writer slogging her way through the challenges of living a creative career and early-widowhood.
Having harbored a passionate dread of writing assignments when she was in school, Liesel never imagined that she would ever make a living at putting words on paper, but life sometimes has a funny way of working outWhen shes not writing, reading, or drawing, Liesel likes to indulge her guilty pleasure of watching competition television shows like Top Chef, Chopped, and Project Runway. Follow her on Twitter at @laswrites
Acknowledgements
To my editor, Clio, thank you for giving my words the chance to find life in other peoples hands and in their hearts. Thank you for believing in me!
Dedication
This book is dedicated to my family, who showed so much faith in my dreams of writing and never once doubted that I could do it. I love you and thank God for you everyday! Thank you for believing in me, for encouraging me, and for supporting mein so very many ways. Always always, always remember how much I love you.
Contents
Cover
Blurb
Book List
Title Page
Copyright
Author Bio
Acknowledgement
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Endpages
About the Publisher
Chapter One
November 2005
I burned them all when I got home that day, a thick stack of bridal magazines that were dog-eared and flagged with a rainbow of Post-its that peeked from the edges of the pages. Its strange, the acrid smell that comes from burning magazine pages glossy and slick and heavily coated in ink. The pile seemed to burn painfully slowly as I watched, perched on the couch in my darkened living room, staring unblinkingly until the blaze became an indefinable blur of angry oranges and reds.
It was over. He was gone, and I was alone.
It sounded so simple, but it wasnt. The situation was far from simple, at least for me. For Matt, it seemed the most uncomplicated decision of his life, one even easier to make than his decision to propose. The words slid from his mouth smoothly, almost silkily, as we sat across from each other at the table in the restaurant.
Our restaurant. The one we had eaten at on a weekly basis for the past three years.
Matt looked up from his nearly empty plate of cheese tortellini and said it as though he was telling me he was disappointed by the consistency of the sauce.
I think this engagement is a mistake.
I felt the floor falling out from under me as I sat in my green vinyl-padded cafe chair.
I think this engagement is a mistake. I need some time to figure things out, to know whats best for me.
The handsome man sitting across the table from me suddenly seemed a stranger, a soulless replica of someone I loved and trusted. The face I knew every angle, every freckle, every line etched by time became an unfamiliar arrangement of features dulled by those crushing words.
Words that I didnt even have the presence of mind to answer. How could I? The man I loved, the man who was supposed to love me, was now sitting across from me and saying words that eradicated every confidence I had in that love. There was a sick desperation growing in the pit of my stomach, a roiling mix of panic and anger that seemed to make speech impossible.
It was incomprehensible, this sudden revelation that the past five months of his life of both our lives were a mistake.
A mistake.
The words echoed in my mind like the report of gunfire in a tunnel.
He shook his head and expelled a puff of air, suddenly seeming aware of the effect of his words.
This isnt to hurt you, Eira. Please believe that, he said, almost pleading. He reached out a hand and splayed it, palm down on the tabletop near me. A gesture of supplication, an attempt to bridge the distance between us that now seemed to be thousands of miles instead of the mere inches that it truly was. My gaze dropped from his eyes to his hand as I sat silently, feeling diminished and cold.
A hand that was so capable, so strong, yet so able to communicate tenderness. And so able to destroy things, just as his words had done. His hand continued to rest on the table while I stared at it, my eyes losing focus as tears stung them and threatened to escape. I blinked rapidly to clear them away, thoughts darting through my mind with the sharpness and speed of arrows. And just as painful.
A mistake.
I looked down at my own hands, resting limply in my lap, and saw a glint of platinum from the band of my engagement ring. The room seemed to darken as pinpricks of blackness danced in front of my eyes, threatening to shut out everything else and steal the air.
I couldnt breathe.
Eira? The voice seemed distant, hollow and tinny, as though it was being telegraphed along string between two soup cans.
Eira? It sounded more urgent now, but still so distant.
I shook my head and shot up from my chair, barely clearing the table in my haste to rise to my feet. I had to get out of there, had to get some air. I had to be able to breathe.
Breathe.
I had to consciously think about it as I lurched frantically towards the ladies room, each rasping gulp of air a struggle.
I stumbled into the bathroom, reaching desperately for the nearest sink and clinging to it for support. I fought against the bile rising in my throat, the suffocating absence of air. How could this be happening?
When had the man who was supposed to love me fallen out of love?
How had I missed the signs?
Come to think of it, where had the signs been?
I gripped the white porcelain sink, my knuckles and fingertips turning ghostly under the pressure. I was never going to be able to go back out there and face him. How could I? I shook my head and clamped my eyes shut against the unbidden tears that burned them.
This wasnt happening, I thought again. This was not happening.
Are you okay, honey? a small voice behind me asked.
Uh huh, I managed, sounding unconvincing even to myself. I sniffled and nodded, my eyes still clenched tightly. Ill be fine. It came out like a squeak, resonating harshly off the black and white subway tiles that lined the walls.
Are you sure? Do you need me to get someone for you? the voice offered.
I shook my head silently.
No, I wasnt sure.
And no. No, there wasnt anyone she could get for me. Not any more.
I opened my eyes and straightened up, venturing to look in the mirror. The reflection wasnt me it seemed like a stranger, like a woman Id never seen before. The woman staring back at me looked drawn, her bloodless face punctuated by eyes dulled with despair.
She looked hollow.
Hollow. That sensation of hollowness seemed the only thing I had in common with this strange woman in the mirror, this woman who was really me.
I felt somehow like something had been stolen. Maybe in a way it had.
I shifted my focus to the reflection of the petite woman standing behind me, concern deeply etched on her face. Her eyebrows were knitted so tightly together they formed almost a straight line above her bright blue eyes. Blonde curls had escaped from her ponytail, an odd contrast to her otherwise blunt features. She looked to be about ten years older than me, but I knew from experience that looks can belie actual age. Even though I was twenty-five, most people took one look at me and assumed me to be younger.
I gave her a weak smile in the mirror, then took a deep breath.
Im fine. Really. My voice became a little more determined. Thank you.
She nodded, still looking less than convinced. She hesitated a moment, giving me one last look before she wordlessly opened the door and disappeared, leaving a breeze of spicy, floral scented air in her wake.
The bathroom was empty now, and I was alone. The feeling seemed to echo off of every surface of the harshly lit room. I crossed the tiles on unsteady feet to look for some way any way out of there besides the door that would lead me back to the dining room and the man who sat at my table, waiting with empty plates and broken promises. It seemed impossible, this change that had happened to my life in five seconds.
I had been expecting a quiet evening with my fiancé, an evening in which we left nothing behind at the restaurant other than the tip. Instead, I was leaving all the dreams I had been dreaming since I was a little girl, discarded with the crumpled napkins beside my empty plate.
There was nothing to do, no other way of escape from the bathroom that now seemed like a cage rather than a refuge. I wanted to go home, to crawl into bed and sleep and wake up to find that this had all been a nightmare. I closed my eyes as the room started to spin, my chest feeling heavy with the pressure of all the unanswered questions.
Deep breaths, I reminded myself.
I was going to have to go back out there. I had no choice in the matter. But I did have a choice in how I handled things from this point on.
Maybe Matt was just feeling nervous as the number of days until our wedding dwindled. Normal cold feet, right? Surely thats all this was. Once he had a chance to think this through, he would realize that he really didnt want to call off our wedding. That everything wed planned for our life together was still what he wanted. Nothing had changed between us, so this was the only logical explanation.
Right?
I took another deep breath and opened my eyes, steeling myself to walk out the door. I had to be calm and rational. I had to be the one to keep a level head right now, since Matt seemed to be temporarily incapable of that. Sure, he was putting up a great front and giving the appearance of complete control, but it had to be just that a front. Underneath it all, he was probably just feeling the pressure of the countdown.