I was compelled to tell this story, as most writers are, because it haunted me. It consumed me late at night, early in the morning, and every other hour of the day.
It still consumes. It still haunts.
Because this isn’t just any story—it’s my story.
I lived it.
I am Anonymous, and I’ve made decisions and have inflicted emotional pain I never thought was in me to inflict. It’s been two years of tears, therapy, and penance, but finally through the suffering came healing. And as my history shaped itself, my story began to haunt me in a different way.
In a way that felt all too familiar.
A situation far too close to home for many of us.
I learned I wasn’t alone.
This isn’t your typical story. It’s not meant to titillate or entertain. It’s a true story—a story that could belong to any woman, wife, mother—it could even belong to you.
When I finally made the decision to tell it, I knew I couldn’t be the one to write it. Like touching the white-hot flame, I was too close, and telling it would singe my heart all over again. Perhaps I would alter a detail to avoid judgment or change a storyline to protect my family. I knew in the core of my deepest self that this story deserved to be told purely, as it happened, and without the cloud of persecution weighing on my shoulders.
So I handed it over.
As an active member of the indie-publishing community, I read much and often. With one particular author and her incredible talent for wordsmithing never failing to astound me, my heart was set to have her tell my story. Every sentence the inimitable E.K. Blair writes yanks at my heart and forces me to see reality from a new and breathtaking perspective. Blair’s words weave emotion into my heart like a rare and awe-inspiring tapestry, and it’s for this reason I asked her to sit down with me.
I poured every gritty detail out to her, and she took what I gave her, soaked it into her soul, and told my story through her voice. I’ve read this book every chapter of the way—E.K. Blair’s words never ceasing to inspire and shatter in the breadth of a single sentence. It’s heartbreakingly honest and unapologetic in its candor.
Thank you, my new-found friend, for flying me out to stay in your home and listening with an open heart as I cut mine open and handed it over to you. You brought my story to life with your gifted pen, and I am, and always will be, forever grateful.
Anonymous
Author’s Note
It’s an honor to tell Anonymous’ story. I’m in awe of her bravery to expose her heart and allow me to crawl inside and explore deep down to the cobwebs where her skeletons lurk. When I found them, she allowed me to awaken them. I spoke to them, questioned them, yelled at them, and cried with them. I took her story, wrote notebook’s worth of notes, listened to her words, and then sharpened my tongue to let them bleed through me and onto the pages of this book. This may be told in my voice, but this is her story. Thank you, Anonymous, for trusting me with your darkest everythings.
“Chaos is an angel who fell in love with a demon.”
~ Christopher Poindexter
The dreadful sound of my alarm wakes me from a dream I wasn’t ready to leave just yet. Giggling from my girls echoes through the door of my bedroom as I blink my eyes open, holding on to the vanishing visions before lucidity erases them entirely. I stretch my arms and legs as I breathe in the scent of pancakes and bacon, the aperitif of familiarity and comfort.
Tossing the blankets aside, I leave slumber’s fantasies on the pillow and get out of bed. When I slip on my robe, I head out to the kitchen for some much-needed coffee.
“Look who’s awake, girls,” my husband announces as he flips pancakes onto the kids’ plates.
They give me a fleeting acknowledgment as Landon sets their breakfast on the table. While they stuff their mouths, I focus on making my cup of coffee.
“How late were you up last night?”
Stirring the creamer into my mug, I look over to my husband of eight years and respond, “A little after two.”
“What kept you up so late this time? A fighter? A pilot? A billionaire with a dark past who finally met the one woman that would change him forever?” He laughs as he says this, and I