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One Final Night
One Final Night
One Final Night
Ebook25 pages21 minutes

One Final Night

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Mel and Paul seem to have it all but beneath the thin veneer of their marriage lies a rotten core. She is unreasonable and he is passive - just two of their many problems. Mel doesn't know it yet, but she has this night, and only this one final night, to figure out what the future holds.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateApr 21, 2011
ISBN9781458170019
One Final Night
Author

Wendy L. Young

Wendy Young is a Southern Girl who loves sweet tea, warm summers, and being a Tennessean. She is just beginning to publish the stories that have been kicking around in her head for years.

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    One Final Night - Wendy L. Young

    One Final Night

    By Wendy L. Young

    Published at Smashwords.com

    *****

    Copyright © 2011 by Wendy L. Young

    All Rights Reserved. This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

    ****

    The smell of the uneaten dinner filled the house, but Melanie Chapman paid it little mind as she busied herself cleaning up the mess. Her husband Paul had left on a simple trip to get milk for biscuits but had now been gone more than an hour. No Paul; no update; no biscuits. Any hint of worry was resolutely pushed aside in favor of comforting rage, matching the thunderous storm outside the window.

    They had a comfortable life together. He managed major construction projects, putting together deals and watching bottom lines. She was a nursing supervisor in a cardiac unit. Three kids, a nice house, and twice-yearly vacations showed the world a happy family.

    To the world they seemed perfect, but in reality nothing worked for them anymore. It would be fitting if his car broke too, she thought. That would be nicely symbolic of their marriage.

    Mel eyed dinner. Lemon chicken, wild rice, green beans, boiled potatoes – and the biscuits she couldn’t make – were an attempt at a peace offering. It was the latest in a series of such offerings, from both of them, that seemed fated to fail, as if nothing could possibly bridge the gap between them.

    Deciding dinner could sit where it

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