The Literary Vixen presents… Joining us today is Victoria Monroe! Author of Lucky, in Love which released on July 12th 2020. How long have you been …Interview with an Author Featuring Victoria Monroe
It all started the summer of 1999 when we met and fell in love…
Happy Monday!!! I LOVE Victoria to pieces, make sure to check this out!! #ReleaseBlitz #LuckyInLove #VictoriaMonroe LUCKY, in love by Victoria Monroe…Release Blitz: Lucky, In Love
Five, four, three, two, one—Happy New—
Instead of listening to Auld Lang Syne echo through the streets of mid-town Manhattan, while the eagerly awaiting sea of humanity erupts with hopeful joy, I sit in silence alone in my condo. The remote control falls from my hand onto the empty cushion next to me, as my head rests heavily against the back of the sofa. I can’t watch millions of complete strangers’ sweet nostalgia dissolve while they embrace their ambitious ideas for the new beginning that just presented itself. Something about this time of year leaves me feeling bitter. Maybe it’s because it’s always the same me in a new year.
My phone display continually casts a white glow on the ceiling from where it lays on my glass coffee table. Without looking, I know it’s best wishes for the new year. Probably messages from my sisters and Laken, Emerson, and maybe even the guys, too. They’re all together tonight at a big party at Gage and Laken’s new house. I declined. Just like I declined the invitation to the country club’s New Year’s Eve bash. Historically, I never miss NYE at the club; it’s a great time and the party always continues with whomever I bring home with me. Last year was especially exciting. I couldn’t decide who was the better kisser—the brunette or the redhead—so I brought both of them home. The self-images each of the pretty ladies had of themselves made this bullshit ego I exude seem like nothing at all. But that’s the beauty of the club. We’re all the same kind of people… at least that’s how I make it appear anyway. I thought for sure 2017 would be a fantastic year based on the way I brought it in, and it was. It was a damn good year for everyone around me—engagements, weddings, babies, new homes—I watched amazing things happen for amazing people. I watched.
2017 left me changed—softened by the people who had welcomed me into their lives and made me a friend. People who forced me to realize I was a person who could be so much more than who I had become. The past year also left me hardened toward the people—who in one way or another—shaped me into the cynical son of a bitch I’ve been for most of my adult life. I know the actions of others aren’t really credible excuses for where I am in life. No, I’ve made my own choices that have been—at some point—exactly what I wanted.
Yes, I’ve made my choices and now I live with the consequences. For the second time in my life, I loved someone and I let them go. I convinced myself it was for her own good. I would only cause her pain. I was successful. I’m sure she’s not hurting—not because of me anyway—she never knew how I felt. I’m the one who’s hurting. I live with the idea of what could have been. While everyone looks ahead, especially now on New Year’s Day—all I think about is what or rather who I’ve left behind.
© 2018 Victoria Monroe
Love breaks our hearts and complicates everything, and still—we love. Despite every plan we derive against it—love finds us and we’re powerless to stop its splendor, or its torment.
I’ve grown up hearing the expression, it always happens to the good ones. An innocent, resilient child doesn’t understand that statement. What always happens to the good ones? I’m a good one, aren’t I? Although I didn’t quite understand the meaning in those words, I never forgot the expression. The child in me who always heard those words, could never have fathomed the truth they hold… it’s something that life had to teach me. But, as I’m becoming older I realize the sadness of that truth, it does always happen to the good ones.
There were two amazing people who spent their lives living to raise their six beautiful children, three of whom have physical disabilities. They were philanthropists who helped disabled people get what they needed from medical equipment, to a home they could call there own that suited their needs. They were friends. It didn’t matter if you knew them five minutes, five years, or a lifetime. You were their friend. They’d do anything for anyone. They were in love, after thirty years of marriage they were completely head over heels in love.
But, you’ve heard that expression, right? You know, it always happens to the good ones. It was just a short ride before dinner… they were only going to be gone a few minutes… all they had to do was look at house that might be perfect for a disabled person who wants to live independently and needs help getting a place… a short ride on the bike… all the kids were at the house… dinner is almost ready… we’ll be right back.
It was about six o’clock in the evening… a sport utility vehicle hit them head on.
She died at 7:24 pm. He died at 7:30 pm.
Be kind. Do good things. It doesn’t matter what color we are, what religion, what our goals are… if we only have one thread in common, that’s enough. If we can all be kind, this world will be better because we were here, just like it’s better because they were here.
You see, it happens to everyone… it’s just the good ones who leave an impact.
I know this guy isn’t my biggest fan. Not by a long shot.
“Ashe?” I knock twice on his open office door at Scott Construction.
“Hey, Killian. What’s up?” He looks at me expectantly from where he’s studying blue prints rolled across his workspace and gestures to the chairs on the other side of his desk.
“Not too much. How’re you?”
“Good, Killian. Great, actually. I couldn’t be better, well, I’d be better if I were in the company of the beauty down the hall, no offense.” Ashe smirks and I can see the happiness in his eyes as he thinks of Emerson.
“None taken. That’s great, good for you.”
After a pause, Ashe gestures with his hands, “Well, it was awesome talking to you, bud. Thanks for—”
“I’m into Brinley.” I cut Ashe off and just say it aloud.
“Excuse me?” Ashe appears bewildered, I think, to say the least.
I sit with my head in my hands and my elbows on my knees, “Oh fuck, Ashe, she drives me crazy. It was one thing being business partners with her, now I’m her, her, her fucking boss.” I hear Ashe move his chair, then navigate through his office before he latches the door closed. He sits back down and I lift my head to look at him.
“You’re fucked, man.” Ashe preaches matter-of-fact like its gospel truth. It is.
“Tell me what I don’t already know.”
“Look, Killian, I’ve been there, it’s tough.” Ashe finally shows the signs of empathy I hoped I’d see in him. Coming here to talk to him isn’t easy to do, but despite everything, he’s the one person who can understand.
“How did you do it?” I need a lifeline. I need to figure this shit out, everyday gets more and more difficult.
“Amazingly fucking well, as always,” Ashe responds with a devilish, prideful grin. After a moment, I realize the disconnect in our conversation.
“Not sex, Ashe. Em, your relationship, work… how did you keep it from getting weird?”
“Who said it didn’t get weird? Christ, man, I wanted to fucking devour her for months, since day one when I first laid eyes on her. I used to bring her coffee every chance I could and ask her about her thoughts on global fucking warming just to talk to her. I tried like hell to work her out of my system…the gym, women, drinking, anything I could think of to get her out from under my skin. I tried to convince her and myself that since we worked together a personal relationship was unacceptable. Then one day, she shows up at my door looking so good…fuck, man, I swear, I could have cried, she looked so beautiful. I knew right then and there; I was fucking ruined. One touch, one taste. I was gone. I didn’t even know then, but I was so fucking in love with her, there was no coming back. Then she left for several months. We had a falling out when she wasn’t even here. She came back as I was trying to move on…that’s when I learned about the babies, well, baby, my sweetness was daddy’s surprise.” Ashe’s eyes light up when he mentions his babies, especially Cashen, who was a surprise twin to her expected brother, Leif. “It was a fucking mess. I avoided the office, I couldn’t stand to be near her without being able to touch her. One day, it just hit me. I accepted the fact that she was it for me, and no matter how much she tried to shut me out, I was it for her. I decided to fight for us. That was it. Gage and Laken may have helped wake me up. I don’t want to go dishing too much credit to pretty boy and my sister—his soon-to-be bride—though.” Ashe smiles and he can’t hide the love and respect he holds for his family.
I’m kidding myself. I don’t stand a chance at winning the affection of a woman like Brinley. It’ll be Laken all over again, only our working relationship will prevent us from forming a close friendship. It’ll be too weird. I can’t effectively fulfill my objective judgement if I’m biased. Maybe Ashe couldn’t get Emerson out from under his skin because she’s meant to be there. Perhaps Laken couldn’t take me seriously because her heart has always been the heart in Gage. They’re all meant to be. It’s obvious. They couldn’t fight what’s written on their hearts. What they share has always been there. I don’t have that problem, not at all. The only thing I’ve always had—the only thing I will ever have—is the cold, empty pit inside me.
“…Her name is Renée. I told her I’ve seen her coming to watch the sunset for a very long time. I asked her why she watches each sunset from that spot. She said, ‘There was a man who came into my life, many years ago. I was a young woman then, like you are now. He and I, were… We made love only once. We were here, right on this beach. Back then, privacy was easier to come by. We were on the beach and we made love with the setting sun watching us, but keeping our secret. He was moving to Europe the next day. He told me he loved me. I almost said those words back to him, almost. He asked me to come with him, maybe not the next day, but he wanted me to go. I almost followed him. I went to the airport to see him again; he didn’t know I was there. In those days, you could go anywhere in the airport without a ticket or without someone checking your bag. In the end, I was too scared to talk to him again and so I watched him, unbeknownst to him. He almost didn’t go. At the last minute, he handed over his ticket. I almost stopped him. If one of those things would have been different. If one of those things would have been more than just, almost… And so, honey, I come here each day and sit to watch the setting sun because in those moments, I can almost feel him again, I can almost see him again, I can almost hear him again. Almost. As soon as the sun is gone, the warmth fades away into a chill and it’s back to my truth. We didn’t make it. Almost doesn’t count.’
“I asked her, why she returns each day if it causes her pain? She replied, ‘Because when I close my eyes, I relive the moments we shared. They come alive. For just a time, it’s us again, together. In those moments, we’re together.’ Her smile turned into a frown and she closed her eyes. We exchanged a few more words before I left her to watch the sunset.”
Learn the whole story in Falling Forever… xoxo