Love To Hate You

Prologue

"You know, I have to admit; I never thought you guys would make it more than a couple of months."

The easy smile slides from my face, and I plaster the fake one back on. Eleanor Grimsby; socialite extraordinaire. Forever in everyone's business and only happy when she's the center of attention. She touches my arm before insulting me again.

"Be glad you snatched him up before his career took off."

I watch her sashay away in her slinky silver gown, sticking my tongue out at her back. It's our second anniversary party, and I have yet to spend time with my husband. This past year has been bleak. I've only seen him a handful of times. Jeremy is an advertising manager who is in high demand. Every pitch he's managed has doubled, tripled, or quadrupled sales around the world. I always told him he was brilliant. Unfortunately, when you're in high demand, you have to travel. lot.I walk through the crowd of people I barely know, in search of my husband. He got back late last night, and our quick breakfast together wasn't enough.

I hate parties. This was not my plan. I had a romantic picnic prepared, but before I could surprise him; he surprised me. Jeremy had already planned a party. I spot him with his asshole brother and two skanky women. One of which has her hands on my husband's tie. The blonde bimbo, with her chest to her chin, pulls him in, throwing her head back, laughing. I don't know why I'm not furious; I guess I'm not the jealous type? Even though I should be, he has a better sense of fashion than me. He's always clean-shaved and perfectly groomed. The baby face and bedroom eyes can woe any woman.

I should feel lucky! I do. don't I? Sighing, I Lean next to the planters and blend into the crowd surrounding the pool.

We married pretty quickly, in my opinion. Jeremy courted me for months before I gave in. It wasn't for any particular reason. I just didn't want anything distracting me in my last year of college. We dated for three months before becoming infatuated and married on a whim. It's the craziest thing I've ever done, but it was the first time I ever said I love you. To me, that was better than any ring or sheet of paper.

As I watch him flirt and mingle through the crowd, an uneasiness creeps in. It's in the back of my mind, one word like a whisper infidelity. I was twenty-one when I married Jeremy, and so naïve. Could my suspicions truly be valid? No, I don't think he would be so flirtatious in front of everyone if he wasn't faithful. Oh, no. Brandon sees me watching my husband and gives me a malicious stare. He's never liked me. I can't fathom why, but since the day I met him he's been rude, spiteful, and forever stirring the pot.

Last year, the three of us had dinner out, and he spent the entire time cutting me off and giving me dirty looks. That's not even the worst part. My husband went to the bathroom, and I couldn't stand to be alone with Brandon, so I went too. When I came out, they were gone. My husband showed up twenty minutes later chuckling. Apparently, Brandon told him I was riding with him. I wasn't impressed, Jeremy brushed it off, defending Brandon. He said his sense of humor is unique, that he meant nothing by it. I don't know how he can't see his brother's deep hatred of me.

Brandon's smirk is his tell. I just know he's going to do something to upset me. So I make my way over to Jeremy before he gets a chance.

"There you are!" He says this like his been looking for me. It makes me internally roll my eyes.

"Ladies and Gents, the most beautiful woman in all of Portland has just entered the room. May we have your undivided attention?"

My cheeks heat, and I duck behind Jeremy. I hate being the center of attention. Although there is one bonus. I do have his attention and am currently baskinh in the feel of his warm hands on my shoulders. Closing my eyes, I lean back surrounded by his delicious scent. My mind blanks, and everything else becomes background noise. Jeremy pulls me from the warm cocoon of his arms and turns me around. He whispers in my ear.

"It's your favorite, I had it delivered from the bakery yesterday."

The red jam and sugared crust is a dead giveaway, It's a strawberry rhubarb pie, actually my second favorite but close enough. The fact he did something so thoughtful has my eyes watering. I turn around, placing a kiss on his lips, and he smiles, melting my heart with his deep brown doe eyes and movie star dimples.

It's like it happens in slow-motion. I'm the only one who can see it's not an accident. Everyone is clapping and fawning over Jeremy's heart-felt gesture. Brandon hoists his ninety-pound floosy in his arms and barrels back, knocking my pie and the both of them in the pool. The crowd goes silent before bursting out in laughter. My frown goes unnoticed by everyone but Brandon. He smirks, obviously delighted at my disappointment. I hold back tears that threaten to fall over my heated cheeks, and I turn to leave before he can rub it in.

When I come out of the bathroom minutes later, my cheeks are blotchy, and my eyes are red. I decide to call it a night. It's too embarrassing to have everyone see me this miserable. When I turn the corner to the stairs, I run into Brandon's broad chest.

"Way to go, drama queen! You managed to end the party and get my brother searching for desserts in the middle of the night. Do you always sulk to get what you want?"

How could he be so cruel? I stand staring with my mouth open and my eyes filling with tears for the third time tonight. He knows I won't bite back. It's not who I am. Yet he persists on pushing me. I try to move around him, but he blocks my exit. Keeping my head down, I avoid his stare, but he continues to poke at me.

"I know your game, and I can't stand women like you."

That gets my attention! Whipping my head up, I look at his face. Brandon's definitely drunk. His blue eyes are glossy, appearing darker, almost grey in color. His full lips are wet with whiskey, I can smell it.

"Your only with him until the next bigger, better thing comes along. You don't love him. you're using him."

I gasp, my mouth dropping open in shock. Is this what he thinks of me? That's why he hates me? He knows nothing about me! Just because I'm quiet and reserved doesn't make my love any less genuine. Not everyone is as loud and outspoken as him. Before I realize I've done it, I raise my hand and smack him across the face. The loud clap echoes in the empty room. The next second, I'm pulling my hand back and covering my mouth at the hasty reaction. The sting on my hand isn't nearly as bad as the insult to my character. Being the black sheep of my family, I'm used to being misunderstood, but this is far worse. In one sentence he's managed to disregard every sacrifice I've made and every hardship I've been through. I gave up my career to move away and have Jeremy's flourish. He hated my mother, so I agreed to only visit them and not have them visit me. The hardest decision I ever made was nearly a deal breaker. I've always wanted kids, but Jeremy has made it abundantly clear he doesn't and I married him despite my wishes. Not to mention how lonely this last year has been and the foreseeable year's to come.

Brandon smiles widely. It's not the reaction I was expecting. I find myself confused and a touch fearful of his reaction. He grasps my wrist, holding up my hand to inspect it.

"There're the claws I've been waiting to see."

I pull back hard, freeing my hand and finally finding my voice.

"Get out! Get out of my house... I hate you!"

The demand is uneven and shaky, but firm nonetheless. He pushes past me and opens the door. Turning back, he gives me another angry glare.

"Its only a matter of time before he realizes the mistake he's made and ditches your pathetic ass."

Brandon slams the door, leaving me stricken and heartbroken...

It's been two hours, and I'm beginning to worry. We live in a small town, there's only two stores still open that sell food. Where is he? Maybe he took the party elsewhere. Damn Brandon for making me feel sorry for myself and insecure about our relationship. He's an evil person, and I've done nothing to warrant his hatred. A knock at the door disrupts my sour thoughts. I check the clock on my way. It's now eleven thirty. Who could be at my door this late?

An older officer stands before me. His expression is dour. My heart begins to race in my chest at the possibilities. He removes his hat and relays my name. I nod to let him know I'm the person he's looking for, a nod, it's all I can do at the moment.

"I'm sorry to inform you, mam, but there's been an accident... Your husband didn't make it."