Dark Love (The Two Sides of Me Book 3)

All rights reserved. © 2015 Amy Lynn Garcia

No part of this document may be reproduced or transmitted in anything, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission from Amy Lynn Garcia or her legal representative.

Authors Note:

This series contains adult content not meant for anyone under the age of 18. Those under the age of 18 are discouraged from reading this material.

To the people I live and breathe for, the ones who bring me laughter and joy, my daughters Alisha, Saidee, Cayla, Jaylynn and Sophia.

To the person who is always there being silly, encouraging and reminding me to take bathroom breaks and not to wash my face with my glasses on and to rinse my shampoo before drying my hair with a towel, Jaye Hart.

To the person who reminds me when to be where, and what to do when I get there. The one who is always smiling and cheerful drawing my street team together helping them to work together as one. The one who is willing to research and figure out anything for me anytime of the day or night until she’s got an answer, my PA Stephanie Hart.

To the best swag maker, promoter, supporter and most of all great friend my PA Julie Minton.

To the most patient, efficient and flexible editor and formatter ever Brenda Wright

To my beta readers who give it to me straight and put up with my incessant comma use and horrific punctuation. I thank you Jen aka ‘Just Jen’ Rivera, Shannon Pacsuta, Gayle aka ‘Gayla’ Williams, Julie Minton, Nikki aka ‘Nika’ Kusma, Erin Lewis aka ‘Maimeo’s Angels’

To my street team Amy’s Army who I can’t thank enough for tirelessly pimping my books all over social media and attending take over after take over, you ladies are the best!

To my fans who tattooed “You go, I go” on their bodies and will forever have a part of me and my story with them Jenny Ludwig and Gayle aka Gayla Williams. This was the ultimate honor and made my heart burst with pride!

To the person with endless ideas, technical abilities, encouragement and sales strategies, the goofball who is texting me good morning every day and good night every night, my marketing director and friend Kristyn Eudes.

I couldn’t have done any of this without all of you, thank you from the bottom of my heart for helping me bring my baby to life. ‘The Two Sides of Me’ trilogy would be nothing without each and every
one of you and so many more!

“Freight Train” by Sara Jackson-Holman

“All I Feel Is You” by Natalia Safron

The best part of my day is when I open my eyes and for a few blissful seconds nothing is wrong, nobody is gone, no one has died and left me all alone with a broken heart and an empty soul. But moments later, when my head clears, and I blink the sleep from my eyes the pain begins in my chest. It plows through my body like a freight train into every cell, saturating me absolutely. A lump forms in my throat and incredibly, even after such a long time, tears still spring to my eyes.

I lie silently, this particular morning, on my back and take a deep breath. I consider holding it long enough to pass out so I can wake up again and have those few seconds back, but I don’t. I decide that moment isn’t worth repeating, the sadness far outweighs the happiness of those seconds.

When my arms no longer feel like concrete, and I’m able to wipe the tears from my cheeks, I stare up at the canopy of Evan’s bed, our bed, now it’s just my bed. I wait for the crushing hopelessness that I know is coming and squeeze my eyes tight when it does. Just like yesterday and the day before and the day before that I roll to my side, pull my knees up to my chest and sob for the loss of my best friend, my most passionate lover, my husband.

If I thought I was dying when Evan and I were separated, I was incredibly mistaken. This is so much worse than death. This is torture, unending, unyielding all-encompassing agony.

When I ran away from Evan, there was a tiny ember of hope smoldering away in my heart. I had the comfort of knowing he was still a part of this world; he was somewhere tangible; I could return to him if I couldn’t bear the pain anymore.

An ocean of water has been poured on that ember. He is nowhere. His perfect, beautiful body buried deep in the cold ground of the family cemetery. His soul has gone wherever souls go.

I used to believe in heaven and hell, I thought we all left the earth and traveled into the light to be with God. God. How could there be a God? How could there be an entity that leaves one of his children so broken and in so much pain?

I will never again touch or be touched by his strong hands, never feel his warm breath on my neck when we lay in this bed, naked after making love.

How could he leave me? I have no will to live; there is nothing left for me here.

He goes; I go. I told him. He knew. He promised to try, and he didn’t try hard enough. I used to be angry. I screamed and tore my hair out. I hated everyone until there was no hate left. My body hurts. My bones ache. I want Evan however I can have him. I want him, even if I have to die to get him back.

I’m in a bad bad place, and I don’t have the strength to care. I’ve held on for longer than I planned. My family begs me to get out of this bed. I can’t even look at them. The pity in their eyes used to make me sick so I just stopped looking. I don’t know what I’m waiting for, months have gone by now, this is so over, I am done. It’s time to go.

“Mia, Mia, don’t cry, baby, I’m right here. Look at me, honey.” I kneel down next to where my beautiful wife is sitting, why is she crying? What is happening here?

The noise in this room is deafening, alarms screeching, nurses and physicians scurrying around, yelling commands, medication doses. Someone is in trouble over there. Someone Mia cares about. That has to be why she’s crying. It’s so hard to put the pieces of this scene together. I do not feel right. This is not right.

“Mia! Listen to me! What is going on? Who is in that bed?! Damn it, answer me!”

Why is she not answering me? I have never raised my voice to her. She isn’t even flinching. I’m yelling right into her ear. I need to see what’s going on over there.

Standing, I glance toward the beehive of activity surrounding the bed. Gabriella is sobbing just outside the room crouched down against the wall with her hands covering her face. What
the fuck is going on?!

“Doctor, what’s happening?” I ask a physician when he rounds the end of the bed; his focus is on the patient, though. He
doesn’t answer. Somebody in this place is going to tell me what the hell is going on! I approach the bed and peer over the shoulders of two nurses to see another on her knees in the bed with the patient performing CPR.

Fuck, this guy is dying! No wonder Mia and Gabby are so upset, but who?

I don’t remember anyone we know being in the hospital. Actually I don’t remember much of anything at all. I move back a step as the nurses switch places. The one in the bed has sweat dripping off of her face from the exertion. She must have been at this a while.

Another nurse takes her place and when she moves I step in closer to see who the poor soul is in the bed fighting for his life. Who it is that my family is crying over. For a split second, I see the face of the man lying there, it’s me. Me? I’m not in that bed I’m standing right here. How can this be? This is not happening. My vision wavers and my body lightens as the noise around me becomes steadily louder.

I’m floating, weightless, but suddenly that sensation evaporates, and my feet are rooted to the floor. I stand and watch in utter bewilderment as my body stabilizes, a monitor above the bed shows that my heart has begun to beat, my heart.

I have a brain tumor, that much I do know. Maybe I’m hallucinating, that has to be it, just a huge elaborate hallucination.

I turn and see my Mia stand and clutch her chest. She is hyperventilating, I try to go to her, but she still cannot see me, not this me, she sees theme in the hospital bed and the return of my beating heart has blessedly stopped her tears. Gabby embraces her. She is
where I want to be, holding her, comforting her, loving her. I thank God for my twin sister right now more than ever. I have had my differences with Gabriella but since Mia drifted into my life on a whisper and conquered my difficult spirit, I have had nothing but appreciation and love for her.

I watch as they move to my side, Mia lays her head on my chest and reaches up to cradle my face. As soon as I see those delicate familiar hands touching me I feel her here, wherever here is. I feel her damp tear stained face against my chest, her hands on my cheeks.

My God Mia, don’t leave me now, don’t give up on me, I was listening I heard what you said, I go, you go and I am sure as hell not going anywhere.

“Open Your Eyes” by Snow Patrol

I really hate nightmares. They have been a regular disturbing part of my life for so long. I should be used to them, but I’m not. So I take sleeping pills at night to escape, but the effectiveness of the drugs decreases the longer I take them.

Where I used to be able to sleep six or seven hours dreamlessly, I can only now go for three or four. I don’t necessarily wake up when the medication wears off. I just begin to dream again, and my dreams are always terrors, never warm, soft, happy dreams. They’re horrible memories of my own personal accounts twisted into new distorted and mangled experiences.

Today, tonight, I’m not really sure which as there is no window in this room, I wake soaked in sweat and tears, frozen on my back in an uncomfortable cot. It takes a minute to reorient myself to my surroundings and when I do, the relief that washes over me is astonishing, completely overwhelming.