Download Walking on Broken Glass by Christa Allan PDF

By Christa Allan

Leah Thornton’s existence, like her Southern residing domestic, has nice lessen attraction. yet a paralyzing come across with a can of frozen apple juice in the grocery store shatters the fa?ade, forcing her to confess that each one isn't because it looks. while her ally will get in Leah’s face approximately her refusal to house her existence, Leah is pressured to make an agonizing selection. Can she sacrifice what she desires to get what she wishes? pleasure, disappointment, and soreness converge, checking out Leah’s dedication to her marriage, her motherhood, and her religion.

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Example text

American manicure this week, I noticed. I looked over my shoulders thinking some school person had materialized behind us and Molly had just rescued me from embarrassment and possible unemployment. No one. “Safe. ” I rattled on. Another shift down. We now strolled. ” She tucked her shoulder-length cinnamon-shaded hair behind her ears, a habit I’d learned meant she was ready for serious. I sidestepped a clump of strange goo. ” Molly pointed to a bench where the path split to lead to the pool or school.

Middle-stage alcoholic. 3 Carl … I’m checking into Brookforest, the rehab clinic …” Carl looked as if someone was approaching him with a rope and a fast horse. Seeing his eyebrows almost meet in the middle of his face, I was relieved he’d chosen a table wedged in the corner instead of a booth in the middle of the restaurant. The strategy Molly and I had concocted was for the night to conclude with my enlightened and sympathetic husband reassuring me all would be well. Already the plan required some tweaking.

If he failed to capture my body, he would succeed in demanding my soul. Even when I won, I lost. That morning, the one where I was going to have to walk myself into treatment, I heard the click of the door before I saw him stride into the bathroom. The thick glass of the sliding shower doors distorted his body—the body I once welcomed and invited to press against my own. Tender and careful and patient. I once longed for him. But not today. Not for many days after everything changed. I watched, through the curtain of water that framed my face, as he reached for the white towel.

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