bailey | the why

woohoo, i finally wrote more of bailey’s story – i mean the last installment was only in june 😉
i’m floored that so many of you enjoy reading my ramblings and attempts at fiction, so thank you!
i’m still wrestling through where to take this – how to unfold it – how to tie in all of the thoughts, directions, characters, and emotions i’m having to the plot line. i honestly have no idea how professional authors do this – trying to get out what unfolding in your head/heart while also trying to keep the reader entertained, hooked, and satisfied. whew it is a lot of hard work.
i wrote this while on the road trip – we hit a rain storm while driving through the mountains and i listened to some james bay and everything just flowed.
so, enjoy! 

I would suggest you start this story from the beginning, so you’re clued in.
(go top to bottom on the links)
bailey | the brokenness
bailey | the number three
bailey | speaking
bailey | the call
bailey | echoes


why, she cried, i’ve been replaying all of it – all of us – over and over and i can’t figure it out.
her hand covered her face, defeated – frustrated.
there was a long pause.
it wasn’t that i haven’t been happy bay, i just…i don’t know…i’ve been trying to figure out how to explain…and the only thing i could figure out is that i was curious.
the knife in her heart twisted.
he was curious?
she couldn’t keep him intrigued – her own husband.
curious of what exactly?
he exhaled loudly, attempting to gather his thoughts.
curious of the what if – i never had closure with ash…her…so i wondered what would have happened; and when i saw her again those thoughts were re-awkwaked.
he fumbled with his hands.
i never meant to start something, to even attempt to hurt our marriage, he gestured between them, Bay, this…you…mean everything to me; when i met her for coffee i just lost something – my perspective.
your dignity she thought.
her heart was hammering against her chest.
blood was flooding her ears.
how long? she asked.
how long what? he stammered.
she pointed a look at him, isaac, how long?
8 months he whispered.
the silence hung there, stretching out and suffocating her.
she felt like she was drowning.
8 months. she finally said. 8 months, she repeated.
he looked at her.
we’ve been trying for 10 months isaac – trying to make…to make a… sobs tore from her chest.
he reached for her, his hands skimmed her forearm.
she moved out of his touch.
does she know you are married? she spit out.
that you were trying to start a family with your wife?…not that it mattered, she thought.
yes and no…we didn’t discuss that, he stood so close to her.
8 months she whispered.
do you love me? she looked into his foreign eyes.
forever he responded without hesitation.
then why…how could you do this to me? she hugged herself tighter.
how could you step outside the vows of our marriage?
he paced five feet and turned towards her.
i ask myself the same question – i’ve asked myself the same question since i had coffee with her, how could i be so weak? how could i hurt and betray the woman i love and want to start a family with? how could i even jeopardize this? – Bailey i don’t know why i did this, or at least i can’t give you a justified explination. curiosity is the reason – but it isn’t why i continued. but i am not left un-fulfilled by you.
he paused – tension filling the silence
i am not left un-fulfileld by you kept repeating in her mind.
silence stretched on.
time ran faster.
nothing was making sense.
isaac wasn’t making sense.
this woman didn’t make sense.
do you want me to leave? isaac asked.
i don’t want you to stay she replied.
but i don’t know how to feel, i’m so torn. you have ruined so much she whispered.
i know he responded.
i’ll come over tomorrow to talk more, you need to think. 
he grabbed his keys, brushed her fingers with his and left.


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bailey | echoes

i’ve been so unsure of where to take this story.
i still am unsure – hence the lack of writing. 
but as i sat in the quiet of my room something came to me – so out of the blue i almost didn’t write it down. it’s rough, unedited, and probably a little choppy.
but this is another piece of bailey’s story. 
another moment woven through her heartbreak. 
it is a continuation of her last meeting with isaac, maybe you need to refresh your mind since i haven’t written since february. (whoops)
read bailey’s entire story here.


there was something about the tone of his voice.
she couldn’t quite place it, yet her heart constricted.
it knew.
she had been here before.
his fingertips grazed the inside of her elbow.
will you at least tell me what you are thinking he half whispered.
could she tell him that she wasn’t fully sure what she was thinking.
so clouded with emotion.
so numb from the pain.
so disconnected from anything that reminded her of him.
she had to – otherwise she would crumble.
self-preservation at its finest.
bay…please. his fingers trailing towards her wrist.
his tone soothed her; his tone irritated her.
her body betrayed her, leaning into his touch.
her eyes lifted to meet his.
instead of isaac she was greeted with a man she never knew.
a shell of an honest man.
an echo of a faithful soul.
isaac was gone.
who are you? she demanded.
his eyelashes shuttered.
really isaac, who are you?
she intertwined her fingers to keep from reaching towards him.
his calloused fingers ran through his hair.
she heard the unshaven stubble connect with his hand as it over his
without you…i honestly don’t know.
how cliche.
how lovely.
how hurtful.
you came here to talk to me…i’m guessing to explain, go ahead.
the couch shifted under his weight.
his head in his hands.
he stumbled out, where do you want me to start?


i wish i could give you more.
hopefully with all of the rain falling this weekend i will be moved to write.
bailey is weighing heavy on my heart.

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bailey | the call

after reading kikis new fiction post i knew i needed to get back on the writing wagon.
i just haven’t been feeling inspired lately, haven’t been allowing myself to really process emotion.
so this is raw and was written in one sitting – which means there most definitely are going to be flaws.
flaws make things relatable right? i hope so.

if you haven’t read any of bailey’s story – go here.


::4 weeks prior:: 
the tv was on louder than she normally kept it. 
anything to help drown out the silence while isaac was away. 
this was the fourth business trip in three months.
she knew what she signed up for when she married him, his job took him away here and there, but lately it seemed a little much. 
a bowl of half-eaten popcorn was next to her, her hand mindlessly reaching in while she soaked in another romantic comedy. 
it’s cold in here she thought.
isaac’s flannel shirt hung loosely over her frame. 
she pulled the throw higher over her chest and settled into the couch a little deeper. 
the ringing woke her.
she must have fallen asleep in the middle of the film, with popcorn still in her hand.
she fumbled to find the phone in the sea of blankets.
she was answered with a click.
well that was weird she thought. 
she began to pick up the popcorn pieces, turn off the tv, and glanced at the clock. 
11:24pm, she was normally in bed an hour ago. 
the phone rang again.
hello she whispered.
why was she whispering? 
hello she said again, more firmly. 
bailey? it’s rachel. 
rachel had been a close friend since college, they often went out dancing together.
rachel, is everything ok? it’s late.
she heard shuffling, or muffled voices she couldn’t tell. 
uh, yeah i’m fine, i mean…im ok…where are you?
at home  bailey responded…do you need me? are you sure you’re ok? whats going on?
she heard rachel mutter a curse. rachel never cursed.
is isaac there?
no…why? he’s out of town.
another mumbled curse followed by a muffled i told you it was him.
rachel what is going on?!
she heard what sounded like a door close, the muffled voices were gone.
B, hannah and i drove over to brunswick to go swing dancing – you know that new place we talked about – it’s really awesome – anyways we’re here, dancing, and i swear i thought i just saw isaac, but it couldn’t be him. i don’t think its him but i can’t be sure, it really looks like him.
the flannel shirt slipped down her shoulder.
she pulled it back up while trying to figure out what exactly rachel was saying. 
he’s here B, i’m almost positive it’s him…and he’s not alone.
doubt rose, then anger, then more doubt. 
no, isaac is away on business, not at some dance spot. 
rachel, isaac is out of town on business, he wouldn’t be there…
no…bailey…i’m pretty sure it’s him. i mean i don’t want to be the one to start anything but i’m almost positive its him. 
heat rose up her throat.
take a picture rach, i need to know. or just facetime me and i can see for myself. 
rachel sighed – are you sure?
yes. she muttered. 
ok hold on
the notification came up on her phone and she accepted it. 
loud music pumped through the phones speaker, people were dancing, lots of people hovered the bar.
her eyes kept scanning trying to locate them. 
she saw rachels finger enter the screen and point to a location. 
she squinted but couldn’t make anything out.
that couldn’t be isaac. 
who could tell? 
rachel ended the facetime and called again.
did you see him?
uh – no – it’s all fuzzy. i don’t think it’s him rach, maybe you’e had a little too much to drink
no, B, i’m almost positive it’s him – i have an idea, does isaac know hannah?
she was thoroughly confused, no…why?
i’ll call you right back.
she stared at her phone.
her mind was going 1,000 miles a minute.
isaac couldn’t be in brunswick, he was in decatur for business.
she fumbled through her phone and started a text.
the house is quiet without you here, i can’t wait for you to get home 
she typed out to him.
she waited.
after what seemed like an hour those three little dots appeared…
i miss you too Bay, a boring business trip has nothing on on you babe.
she breathed a sigh of relief. 
isaac was in decatur, on business, and he missed her.
rachel was probably tipsy and seeing things.
everything was fine. 
she carried the bowl into the kitchen and folded up the blankets.
while washing her face she heard her text alert go off. 
B- watch the video.
she opened the box and watched as hannah took the phone from rachel.
all she saw were hannah’s shoes, cute shoes at that, until she stopped at a table.
she couldn’t make out what was being said over the music.
the camera awkwardly moved up. 
her stomach rolled.
isaac was in the frame, smiling and shaking hands with hannah.
the camera moved awkwardly again.
it landed on a woman across the table then went back to hannah’s feet. 
maybe their wrong she thought.
but she knew they weren’t. 
i saw it she texted back.
there’s something else… rachel responded.
i don’t want to hear it she texted back.
she wasn’t sure how much more she could take.
they’ve been holding hands, and kissing B, KISSING, they are looking like they are about to leave…i’m so sorry, but i thought you should know, i’m so sorry! do you want me to come over? 
she sat there.
stared at the phone.
watched the video again.
and felt the vomit creep up her throat.
no, not tonight. thank you for telling me – please don’t mention it to anyone yet, i need…i need to think she hit send and ran for the bathroom.
wiping her mouth she sank onto the floor.
it couldn’t be isaac.
but it was.
and he was with her.
what did this mean? 
happy writing friends.

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bailey | speaking

i have another installment in bailey’s story for you today.
bailey – her story weighs on my heart.
it is continually knocking, asking to be written, to be explained, to be felt.
i’m still at a cross roads as to where this is going to go – but i felt like this moment needed to be shared.
if you have yet to meet bailey, read part one & part two first, backstories are crucial.


the silence consumed the moment. 
his feet shuffled causing the leaves on the rose stems to bristle together. 
such a weird sound to break this weighted silence. 
can i come in? he asked. 
she stepped back, allowing a sliver of space for him to pass.
his steps were purposeful as he made his way through the foyer, turning the corner that led to the den; almost as if he was reclaiming what she forced him out of. 
she stood there, collecting herself, rearranging the features on her face to be set in a neutral – give nothing away reflection. 
deep breath in.
deep breath out.
the faucet in the kitchen was running and she heard the cabinets open and close, with the clink of glass hitting the counter; she knew he was putting the three roses in water, how thoughtful. 
up until this point she was wading through denial and isolation.
there was no way isaac, her isaac, could cheat. the isaac who rubbed her back, comforted her in sickness, took her on surprise day trips, bought flowers and chocolates just because – the isaac she fell in love with. 
no, that isaac would never run after another woman. so who was this isaac. 
she found her way to her usual seat on the couch – leery of the fact that he was sitting only a few feet away. 
he was staring at her.
taking in the damage she assumed.
now she felt stupid for letting the last three weeks waste her away – because she knew what he saw – brokenness. 
she wanted to be strong, to feel strong, or to at the very least – appear strong. 
strength had been the last emotion on her list. 
you look nice…
he smiled.
she winced.
don’t lie to me isaac, we both know i look like garbage
the words felt like acid on her tongue.
full of bitterness and pain. 
she watched him take the snap, absorb it, shake it off, and continue.
no, bay, you do not look like garbage.
anger rose.
words spilt over.
you’ve made me feel like it.
she settled him with a look that could peel paint off the walls. 
his eyes glistened. 
i’m so sorry, he responded.
his palms wiped down the thighs of his jeans, she could tell he was fighting the urge to move closer to her.
you haven’t responded to my calls or texts he half whispered.
she saw a broken man.
but a man still hanging on to pride. 
it took him 3 weeks to come to her door, their door.
why so long?
she had spent many nights restless thinking of it. 
was he with her.
you didn’t respond to the vows of our marriage isaac.
her anger was rising – anger she didn’t realize she had until she saw him. 
him – sitting there – looking, feeling she was sure, hurt and confused. but who was HE to feel that way, she thought, he knew what he was doing, she was blind sighted. 
he sighed letting his head fall into the cradle of his hands. 
Bay, you have every right to be angry.
she noticed the thickening hair on his jaw line – so out of character.
just like everything else. 
the silence continued.
Sam said she hasn’t heard from you.
sam – why would she want to talk to the friend who set them up.
their life was crumbling.
he stared at her. 
as if he was willing the words to escape her mouth.
what did he want her to say? 
i love you? i’ve missed you? i’ve had nightmares with your empty spot next to me? 
tears formed in her eyes. 
you broke everything isaac.


happy writing friends.

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bailey | the number three

i would encourage you to read part one of bailey’s story before starting on chapter two – it would help to not only explain the back story – but set the tone.                    


it had been three days – three days since she fell asleep on the sofa.
three weeks and three days. 
the number three seemed to have an impact on her.
it could never be two. no – apparently two wasn’t his style.
her eyes focused on her reflection. 
dark puffy bags encircled her lids and she could tell her cheek bones had become more pronounced; just as her clothes had gotten a little less fitted. 
it was time to snap out of it and face the world, she thought as concealer was dabbed under her eyes. 
if only she could conceal the hurt. 
bay – just talk to me. i’m so sorry, please let me explain and maybe we can work it out. 
his text message from the night before replayed in her head. 
this was uncharted waters – how do you not talk to your husband?
how do you keep moving forward with your life when the one thing that has been constant is now unfamiliar? 
she was confused and hurt.
she had wanted three to be significant.
to have the third be a pair of tiny feet running down the hallway.
to feel the life inside of her move.
she had wanted three to be a safe number – a growing number – a whole number.
instead three became heartache.
their marriage wasn’t expanded by the blessing of a child – but by the pain of another woman. adding three this way was heart wrenching.
she hated three.
clicking the clasp of her necklace in place her mind wandered back.
. . .
i got you something…he beamed handing her a box. 
the box was large and heavy. 
she opened it smiling what did you get me?!  tearing into the tissue paper only to pull out a few heavy rocks. she looked at him with confusion. he made a “keep going” motion with his hands and she felt another box. tearing into it to find more rocks and tissue paper…and another box. she smiled you and your wrapping skills. she opened that box to see a tiny box cushioned in tissue paper – the size of her palm. pulling it out he smiled i saw this – and couldn’t not think of you.
opening the lid the light hit the necklace at just the right angle. 
laying on velvet was a circle of diamonds and two birthstones, mine and yours he said. his hands cupped hers removing the necklace. she felt his fingertips brush her hair off of her shoulder, she smiled. He fastened the necklace and placed a kiss at the top of her spine. 
. . .
She had forgotten that moment. 
it had begun to consume her. 
tears started to fall again – smudging her mascara and eye liner. 
for better or worse she mumbled. 
taking a deep breathe in she began to pray, 
Lord…i need you. comfort me…help me know what to do
the doorbell rang.
she wasn’t expecting anyone, though her friends had been dropping by more often recently. running her fingers through her hair she pulled her pants higher on her hips. reaching for the door a small thought of what if it’s him? fleeted by, she stomped it down. the light flooded through the foyer, taking the few seconds for her eyes to adjust her breath left her. 
Bay, i needed to see you.
he was holding three roses. 

. . .

happy writing friends.
frankly friday tomorrow. 

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the brokenness of bailey…

sometimes i wonder if certain stories are meant to be shared.
i find myself writing these stories – these lives and wondering if they should be kept silent or spoken.
the stories can be beautiful and sweet, lovely and inspiring – & others i find are heart breaking and empty, echoing silence and pain.
that is how life goes – a balance of joy and sorrow, failure and hope.
we have good times and we have bad times.
i’ve been writing about cayden and james and i love their story, and i’m still figuring out where to take it  and how to develop it; but in the midst of writing about them i’ve found other characters other stories that needed to be written down.

today i wanted to introduce you to Bailey.

. . .

Poison & Wine flowing through the speakers on the counter behind her. 
The warmth of the water grounds her as she washes dishes.
The house is empty…it’s always empty.
She closes her eyes and allows herself a moment to remember – to day dream.
The weight of his hand as it rests on her hip, the smell of pine and bitter coffee, the safety of leaning into his chest. 
hmmmm she sighs.
The hollowness – the ache is still ever present within her heart. 
. . . 
Another night, another slow song, the same man.
Soft shuffling of feet while they slowly dance through the kitchen. The sway of her hips as he pulls her closer. Pine and bitter coffee. His scruff tickling her neck as he nuzzels the spot below her ear. The feel of his lips tugging into a smile in between kisses. 
. . .
Her eyes refocus as she turns off the water. 
Wringing a towel in her hands her feet move towards the sofa. 
Sinking in, wrapping a blanket around her, staring at the pictures on the wall a tear falls from her face. 
. . .
Ice cream bowls sitting empty on the coffee table. 
The movie had been finished for a while. 
Tangled legs and blankets had kept them warm.
Darlin…it’s after 1am …he stroked her shoulder.
hmmm? she curled closer to him. 
We should probably head on to bed…brushing hair from her face. 
We are in bed…she replied.
A soft rumble escapes his lips…no we’re on the sofa.
Ssshhh sleep …she smiled and pulled the blanket higher. 
. . .
Her cellphone screen lit up with a text.
“just checking in, how are you B?”
Her eyes flicked to the empty spot next to her.
It had been three weeks. 
. . .
She threw keys at his chest. 
GET OUT!…she barked between gritted teeth.
He looked broken. Good, she thought, she was broken too. 
Why did he do this to her. 
What made him want to throw everything away? 
Bailey, let me explain …he reached for her.
Her body recoiled from his touch.
How could you? …she whispered.
His hand cupped her cheek, wiping a tear away, i’m sorry Bay…i love you. Will you please sit down and talk with me for a little while? We can figure it out. 
Her shoulders grew heavy and her heart was empty, her mind spent. 
Please….please just leave.
. . .
Another message.
“Have you heard anything? Do you want some company?”
Her friends had been checking in on her regularly since he left.
Since she asked him to leave.
Days later her confusion was still ten-fold. 
Looking around at the stuff they bought together.
The life they had started to build.
She didn’t know where to go from here…what step to take next.
She only knew that the smell of pine & bitter coffee confused her. 
. . .
happy writing friends.
ps. frankly friday tomorrow. <3

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