The Promise of Change

Chapter 2



What a day. Sarah sat in the passenger seat of Ann’s SUV, her eyes closed. It was almost 11:00 p.m. After calling the police, giving them her report, calling her insurance company, and taking Becca home, she was finally on her way home.

When would she ever learn? Impulsiveness didn’t work for her. It didn’t work for her marriage. She didn’t know why she thought it would work for the car she’d owned less than twenty-four hours.

No more impulsiveness. This was it. She was returning to her usual approach to life, no matter how dull it might be. From now on, she was going to carefully deliberate over every decision in her life, no matter how small.

Except for shoes. A girl could never go wrong with an impulsive shoe purchase. But with everything else, she vowed to be more cautious. And if the police didn’t recover her car, she was going to buy another sensible Volvo.

Mentally exhausted, she dreaded dealing with the insurance company, the rental car agency, and all the paperwork and phone calls. She heaved a weighty sigh.

As if reading her mind, Ann said, “You’ll need a car if they don’t find yours. Do you want me to take you to the rental car agency tomorrow?”

“I’ll be okay for the weekend without a car.” She turned to look at Ann, without lifting her head from the headrest. “For now I’ve decided to rely on Scarlett O’Hara’s mantra: ‘I’ll think about that tomorrow.’ It worked for her.” She turned her head and closed her eyes. “Can we just not talk? My head is splitting.”

“Sure, Honey. You just sit there quietly. I’ll have you home soon.”



Two a.m. The lights were finally out and Sarah was in bed, but sleep was long in coming. Her very expensive impulse-buy probably sat in some chop-shop being butchered even now.

She cringed at the thought. It wasn’t a sentient being, but the mental image troubled her nonetheless.

Rolling over, she grabbed the other pillow and hugged it to her. Heat lightening flickered through the plantation shutters like a strobe light.

Was Becca right? Had the car been a replacement for sex, or for men in general? Not that she’d had a lot of relationships in her life.

Growing up, she’d focused her energy, time, and attention on school and athletics. That intense focus paid off in the form of excellent grades and outstanding athletic accomplishments. She hadn’t had time for boys.

When she became an adult, she focused that same level of attention first on college then, her first career as a teacher, followed by law school, and finally on her second career.

She’d never seen any point in dating just for the sake of dating. She always figured when you found ‘the one’ you just knew. Plus with all the family moves, she’d rarely had time to make friends, much less form romantic attachments.

That wasn’t to say she wasn’t interested in men, and contrary to her no-nonsense dedication to more practical pursuits, she was a full-blown romantic.

As a teenager, she’d fallen in love with literature’s epic romances, like Romeo and Juliet, Darcy and Elizabeth, Cathy and Heathcliff. Seeing those love stories portrayed on the screen only solidified those romantic sensibilities. Add to that, her parents’ long, happy marriage and those expectations soared.

But she wasn’t naïve, either. She knew that marriage came with not only harmony, but with discord; not just with triumphs, but also with tribulations. What made it romantic was overcoming the trials and celebrating the triumphs together.

However, her foray into that connubial state had been anything but, and had left her idealistic view of marriage, and relationships in general, in tatters. And she no longer trusted her instincts where men were concerned.

Despite, or perhaps because of, her romantic nature she’d never met anyone who’d fulfilled her expectations of the romantic hero. Until Adrian. After all, he was a brilliant surgeon saving lives. What was more heroic than that?

She’d met Adrian Mills at a hospital function. He was a good-looking, successful surgeon who’d accomplished so much early in his career. Adrian’s status as a world-renowned neurosurgeon had the famous, and the not-so-famous, seeking him out for their care. It was a real coup for the hospital to get him on staff.

He’d seemed larger than life, and she’d been dumbstruck that he’d taken an interest in her. By the end of the evening, they had a dinner date planned for the next night. She’d eagerly broken her rule about dating strangers.

The relationship progressed quickly, and the next thing she knew they were married.

Everyone said they were the perfect couple. That is, with the exception of Ann and Becca, who took an almost instant dislike to Adrian. She should have heeded their warnings. After all, both had been happily married for years. Didn’t that mean they should be good judges of character?

But she wouldn’t listen. Adrian had bowled her over. He was charming, worldly, poised. When he spoke to you, it seemed as if you were the only person in the room. Unfortunately, Sarah didn’t learn until after they were married that shallow brooks babble loudest.

The only true substance to Adrian was his surgical skill. If you needed life-saving neurosurgery, he was your guy. If you needed a monogamous mate, look elsewhere.

Despite all the problems, the arguments, the miscommunications, and the bursting of the romantic bubble, she was willing to stick it out, see if it was just a period of adjustment, until the affair, which turned out to be just one of many.

Adrian’s social circle, and thus hers, consisted of the city’s most prominent citizens, making their divorce a public spectacle. When the news hit, the salacious details became spicy grist for the rumor-mills. Each morsel savored. Each tidbit relished.

The unwelcome spotlight cast on her private life had been almost too much to bear. She withdrew from the social scene, not only to avoid contact with Adrian, but to avoid the knowing looks and catty comments from the city’s so-called paragons of society.

Soon the invitations dried up, taking with them Sarah’s ever-growing need for excuses to decline, and dimming the spotlight, a spotlight she hoped would never shine on her again.

No, she decided, the car was not a replacement for sex, or men. Why would you want to replace something that didn’t really hold any interest for you?

At least that’s what she tried to convince herself.