From the Grave

From the Grave

As much as Julia tried to justify staying with a man who no longer loved her; there were times that the anger seethed within her. Even though Governor James Johnson’s mistress was dead, Julia still couldn’t escape the toxic rage that seemed to creep up at the most inopportune of times. Tonight, had been one of those unlikely moments. Evidently having lunch with ‘the girls’ had stirred up some old sentiments; sentiments that Julia had mistakenly mistook for wounds that had been healed. Julia of all people; should have known that some wounds never heal; they turn into nasty scars that lie dormant beneath the surface of our being. The old adage that: “Hell has no fury like a woman scorned,” rang true in Julia’s case. She had never been able to get past the fact that with all of her high society breeding; the Governor had fallen in love with a woman that she deemed to be nothing but, ‘a whore.’ Not only had Julia’s heart been broken; her ego had been bruised and nothing would ever make up for the fact that with all of her class and breeding; a woman who was far beneath her had been able to cause her husband to not only stray, but to never return. You see: even though Talia was dead, the effect that she had had on the Governor would be lifelong. Governor James Johnson would never get over the affair that he had with his Mistress, he was essentially in love with a ghost. Though Talia was now just the mist of a memory that would never return, she still remained a memory that would forever hold him within its grasp.
And so tonight would end like so many others in the Johnson household: The teen age daughter and son would close their doors and turn up their stereos in order to drown out the fighting that would go on well into the night. Finally the screams and accusations would die down and Julia would make her way to the master suite, while James tossed and turned on the couch, as he had so many nights before. Like so many other couples who live behind the golden gates of high society; all of the night’s occurrences would be swept under the rug and forgotten as they made their way into the public eye the next morning. For you see anyone in the public eye learns very quickly, that ‘denial’ rules the roost.
An excerpt from ‘Max’s Mayhem.’
Available on Amazon
©2013 Amber Hawkins

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