Born of Flame and Fang

Chapter 1: Not my table

[EDITED]

"Know your worth, you must find the courage to leave the table. If respect is no longer being served" a phrase Kerri-Anne that seemed foreign in her mind.

At the ripe age of 30 her mother's words still echoed within her. "You need to settle down and grow up, you won't be young forever, just settle any man is good enough to have kids with" Raised by a single mother Kerri knew her mother was bitter to the bone, who wouldn't be.

Kerri never saw what real love looked like but she still had hope; hope to feel the essences of love, appreciation and acceptance, Kerri wanted to meet her soul mate. She had hope for being loved for who and what she is.

"I will find somebody to love me for me" soft whispers echoed in her mind as Kerri dried the fallen tears of her most recent heartbreak. Wondering which of her many "undesirable traits" was the reason for this recent heartache. She gave Thomas her everything she is but Kerri couldn't shake the feeling that she was innocent party in his choices.

Packing up all her belongings, squashed into the back seat of her beat-up Volkswagen beetle she drove off to see what the world has in store for her. Kerri wasn't your typical woman. Kerri always wanted to get the best out of living. As a child Kerri used to have feeling that she didn't belong. Being part of a two-unit family with and absent father and an uninvolved mother she never stood a chance with love. All she knew was the lack there of. As the car's music thundered through the speakers, her thoughts slipped free and sprinted wild, weaving stories in time with every beat.

Kerri almost missed the turn off, slamming on the breaks, making old Cassie shake and rattle, she mused to herself -"I need pull over here" when her trusty bucket of bolts came to a stop at a half decent looking truck stop that doesn't look to busy. Greeting the waitress with a small broken smile Kerri picked a seat in one of the darkly lit corners in the diner. Blending in has never been one of her specialties, but feeling the way she did, Kerri might snap at one of the other patrons, so blending in was the best option for her. Remembering all the late-night conversations between her and Thomas, he had never mentioned that they had a problem: or when exactly they fell out of love, that he was seeing another woman. That she was the other woman. Their whole relationship was built on lies, and she knew her secret, was a big part of this shipwreck. But how do you explain something inexpiable to somebody that doesn't even give you the time of day. Sure, Thomas provided everything for her, her rent was paid diligently every month, her grocery cupboards were stocked weekly and she had a little spending money of her own. There was no love, not the kind that lingers in stolen glances or lingers on skin long after touch. No late-night visits, no romantic strolls along moonlit beaches. They never danced barefoot in the kitchen or shared sunrises tangled in bed-sheets. He never reached for her hand in public. They existed beside each other, not with each other. There had never been a lover's bond. Just a hollow echo of something that should've been. Come to think of it, Kerri had been less of a girlfriend and more a high-end emotional escort who was paid in convenience, strung along by rewards, and discarded when the illusion of intimacy wore thin.

A lone tear slid down her cheek as the realization hit. She should've known better after Michael, after Simon, and now Thomas. The pattern was carved too deep to ignore. No more. Kerri vowed, with a fire only heartbreak can kindle, that she would never again be someone's second choice. Never a backup plan. Never a supporting character in someone else's story, again. From now on, she would be the damn headline. From this day forward Kerri will put herself first. She will not beg, or plead for somebody to choose her. Secret or not, every woman deserves to be loved and not just touched. Not just wanted. But chosen. Fiercely, fearlessly, and without conditions. Not lust masquerading as affection, but real, soul-deep, all-consuming love. The kind that doesn't hide.