My Replacement Husband

My Replacement Husband (1) A Heavy Heart

Dedicated to ThuyAnhNguyen for being the first commenter and supporter of the story, this one goes out for you.

DISCLAIMER: Hi everyone, so I originally wrote this story almost 4 years ago. I was a different person. Definitely a different writer. I really didn't want to finish this story at all, but I couldn't delete my first official book that stuck. So, here I am. Here is the re-telling of the same story but a different spin. Sorry if the comments are confusing because they will reflect different versions of this book, but this will be it. This is THE official version, for better or worse, that I will not delete but only refine from now on. Sorry for the wait if you're an old supporter and thanks for the chance if you're a new reader!

Love: is it a feeling or a choice?

    I knew there were definitely days I had to choose to love my sister. Actually, to be perfectly honest, every day was a day I had to choose to love my brat-of-a-sister, Kathy.

Whether I wanted to or not, even if I was a thousand miles away, she was family and as the old adage goes: blood was thicker than any water under the bridge. I probably go the sayings mixed up, but regardless the sentiment still remained.

    I tried to remind myself that however, Kathy may seem to act that she only had my best intentions, sort-of.

Take last Friday for example: "Julie, do you get sad sometimes?" Kathy asked me one day on the phone. I remembered because I was particularly struck by the sincerity in her voice. "Mama was telling me she heard from Aunt Beatrice who heard from her sister-in-law's doctor that you can die from loneliness."

    Well, that was the end of that brief warm and fuzzy feeling.

    "I think I'll be okay," I laughed. After all, I had Petunia, my parrotfish.

    "Are you sure? I'm pretty busy planning my wedding, but I can buy a ticket like that," she snapped her fingers across the line, "I learned how to make fried catfish! Mama taught me some recipes to make to feed Preston after a long day of being the youngest elected mayor."

    The classic Southern humble-brag.

    I did miss home-cooked meals, but Kathy was a disaster in the kitchen. You might as well have set your own oven on fire and save her the time and energy. "Kath, you take the meaning of blacken catfish too far," I snorted. "I'm no Aunt Beatrice's sister-in-law's doctor but think I'll die faster from your cooking than from loneliness."

    "I resent that," Kathy said. "I'm a mighty fine cook. Preston said so himself. My food is mayor-approved. Now that's a slogan if I ever heard one."

    I wished she could have seem me roll my eyes. "First off, Preston is obviously going to say that because he's marrying you. Second off, he isn't even mayor yet. I heard campaigning doesn't start until next week."

    I heard her huff. "Julie, stop changing the subject! I know you're hurting after your little relationship with Edgar ended in peine d'amour."

    Kathy listened to a taping of La Vie en Rose once and now she's the self-declared expert of all things French. Who needs the ambassador of France when you have my sister who thinks baguettes and berets are the height of culture?

I don't bother correcting her - it's Ethan - but if the first ten times didn't stick I'm not so hopeful about the eleventh.

"I'm fine, really," I said.

"You didn't even tell me why it ended," she said indignantly.

Deep breath. Kathy, much like my mother, felt like she was entitled to hear every last detail of my life as if me brushing my teeth was the most fascinating thing since sliced bread was invented. At least with my mother, I owed her my life, while Kathy, on the other hand, I owed a scrunchie I borrowed when I was in the tenth grade and she was in the eighth grade.