PROLOGUE
Life is made up of decisions, big and small. This story is about the big ones. When we make good decisions, choose correctly, life is good. When we get it wrong, we live with our mistakes, and wished the hell we had made better decisions, chosen more wisely. There's nowhere this applies more than in relationships - especially marriage.
Of course, sometimes we don't make a choice - life makes it for us. The person that gets hit by a car coming in the wrong lane, didn't make that choice; they didn't decide to get hit. It just happened. That kind of sums up my first marriage, well to date, my only marriage. It kind of just happened, and yes it was like a car wreck. My ex and I were in the wrong lane.
We never should have gotten married. We weren't right for each other. And I don't care what anybody says, some people go together, and some don't. We didn't. But we were young, and too ignorant to realize that - until it was too late. I realized it at six in the morning, five hours before my wedding. I had been up all night drinking with my best man, and I had an epiphany - I realized at that moment, and for the first time, that I wasn't in love with my bride to be. But the choice had been made. And at that point, I didn't 'choose' to back out. So, yes, by not choosing, I made a bad choice...and lived with it - for seven years.
So, we limped along in a messed-up relationship, both of us trying, each in our own way, to make it work. I don't know when my ex realized we had made a mistake, but she did, and eventually she did something about it - she left me. How she did it is a whole story in itself. Suffice it to say, when she was done, I was penniless, had lost my business, and most of my marbles.
As I was saying, we didn't choose. We really didn't, not directly. We lived in the same neighborhood, kept running into each other, and just kind of ended up together. I don't think either one of us ever felt that passionately about the other. We just got comfortable being together and sort of 'fell' into marriage. I don't say all this to make excuses. I made mistakes, I am to blame for them, and I paid for them. As this story begins, I have been trying for the last five years to find someone I can love and be happy with. I'm very cautious in this, but I certainly haven't given up on getting it right.
INTRODUCTIONS
I'm Trevor. I'm 34 years old, independently wealthy, tall, handsome, with a great physique, good at all sports, envied by men, adored by women, and hung like a porn star...
Okay - none of the above, well, except my name is Trevor and I am 34. I'm fairly average - just shy of six foot tall, a little stocky, weighing around 190. I do have a pretty good physique. I'm decent-looking with average facial features. I have sort of steel-blue eyes, and dark blond hair. I wear it semi-short - long enough to comb it back on the sides a little, but off the ears and collar. I've worn a mustache and beard, on and off, but am clean-shaven these days. I've frequently been told I have 'kind eyes', also a 'great smile'. Of course, those may be code for 'not so good looking'; like when somebody says about a woman, 'she has a sweet personality' - code for 'homely'.
I live and work in the Gainesville area of North Georgia. If not familiar, it's a medium-sized city situated on the eastern edge of Lake Lanier - a large man-made lake located in the foothills of the nearby Blue Ridge Mountains, and is about an hour north of Atlanta. I work for a high-end, custom home builder as the in-house home designer. I work directly with clients who want a custom build, and I do the initial plans and computer mock-ups based on extensive interviews. I have a knack for making sense of people's ideas and getting them down on paper. When I have a completed proposal, my boss reviews and prices it. If the clients contract, then my work goes to an architect for the final construction plans (I am self-taught and do not have a formal degree).
In my spare time, I take advantage of Lake Lanier and the Blue Ridge Mountains for hiking, fishing, camping and canoeing. I divide my leisure time between those activities and my pets, two big Shiloh Shepherds - Kody and Kayla. If not familiar with Shilohs, imagine German Shepherds on steroids. Both are beautiful, brown-and-gray plush coats, brother and sister. Kody weighs over 100 pounds, and Kayla is right at 80 pounds.
I live in a large, four-bedroom, 'log cabin-style' home on five acres in a wooded area about twenty minutes from the city. And yes, the house is much bigger than I need, but I bought it for a very good price, just couldn't pass it up. A bold creek defines the western boundary of my property and gives me over 400 yards of creek frontage. My house fronts east and is located about 20 yards east of the creek, so you can see and hear it from my rear deck as it goes gurgling and tumbling over the rocks. It's a pretty nice place to live.
I currently have a girlfriend, Mara, whom I've been dating for a few months. I would describe our relationship as semi-serious, with her leaning toward 'serious', and me leaning toward 'semi'.
Mara is a lovely woman, 30 years old, 5'-5" and about 125 pounds, with a trim, athletic figure. She has a slightly dark complexion, owing to her Mediterranean heritage. Her dark eyes, and long, wavy, dark hair give her a sultry, sexy look. Her face is oval-shaped, with slightly angular features, but very pretty. She has an average-sized mouth with sexy, full lips. Her dark eyebrows and thick lashes set off her dark-brown eyes. When she wants, she can give you a smoldering look that will make you weak in the knees.
She has slightly broad shoulders with prominent collar bones, and her tapered chest features firm, moderately-sized breasts. Her torso tapers down to a narrow, flat tummy and narrow, slightly flared hips. However, she has a prominent, very firm derriere. Slim, muscular legs round out her athletic form.
I know she wants to take things further, but as much as I care for Mara, I'm not in love with her, so I am reticent to take the relationship to the next level. I don't want to make a mistake again. Until I find someone I can truly love, I'm not entertaining marriage.
STORY
I. WHERE THE TRAIL LEADS
On weekends when I'm not working, I usually head to the mountains or the lake with Mara and the dogs to go hiking, canoeing, and fishing. When we both have a long weekend or can take a little vacation time, we go camping. When Mara is unavailable, the dogs and I still go out for different activities, including canoeing - I've taught the dogs to ride in the canoe, though I haven't been able to teach them to paddle - if I did, would it be called 'dog paddling'? Okay, I'll stop.
One Saturday, I was out on one of my day hikes, with just my dogs, when I heard panicked female voices up ahead. As I rounded a bend in the trail, I met a young girl running down the path in my direction.
"Help! Help! My sister, she's hurt..." she called to me and instantly turned, running back up the trail.
I sprinted after her and caught up to the girl as we came upon a young woman leaned up against a granite outcropping beside the trail, doing her best to support a young girl who was hanging down, headfirst, with her foot wedged in a crevice.
The panicked woman was crying, nearly hysterical.
"I can't get her down! She's stuck, and I can't get her down."
"Just hang on, I'll get her," I exclaimed as I dashed to the outcropping, scrambled up the side, and got above the girl. Her left foot had caught in a crack between two boulders and she had fallen forward, down onto the rock face, ending up hanging upside down about six feet from the base of the outcropping.
The older girl was saying, "I couldn't get her foot loose. I tried..."
"Don't worry, I'll get her," I replied, then quickly directed the young woman, "Keep holding her. I'll get her foot loose, then lower her down to you; get ready to support her weight."
"Okay, hurry!" the young woman urged.
"I'll help hold her," the older girl volunteered and got next to the young woman.
I sat just above the girl, straddling her, and grabbed the ankle of her free leg to support her weight, then grasped the heel of her trapped foot and tried to pull it free. The young girl, who was whimpering and crying, yelped. The shoe was wedged deep in the crevice and was hard to get a good hold on. I quickly pulled out my pocket knife, and cut the back of the shoe. I again grasped her free ankle, then carefully slipped her foot out of the shoe.
"I'm going to lower her down to you, then I'll come down and help you. Support her till I can get down," I instructed.
I slowly lowered the girl down, trying not to scrape her on the rock any more than she already was. As I lowered her, the young woman and older girl grasped the girl's shoulders, and brought her down. I scrambled back down and got next to the woman and took over, bringing the girl the rest of the way down and getting her on the ground. She was a mess. Her nose was bleeding, her cheek was bruised, swollen and scratched, and her hands, arms and legs were scraped in various places, but her left leg was the worst of it. Her knee was scraped, swollen, and black and blue. Her left ankle was equally swollen.
The young woman and younger girl were both crying. The older girl was the calmest, and was patting the young woman on the back, trying to calm her. I quickly checked out the younger girl's injuries.
I tried to calm the young woman, "Okay, ma'am, I don't think anything is broken, but we'll need to get her to the hospital. I'm going to have to carry her. Can you take my backpack?"
She nodded, but the older girl quickly grabbed it and put it on, "I got it."
At that moment, the young woman saw the dogs and started to panic, "Are they dangerous?"
"No, no. They're sweethearts. That's Kody, that's Kayla. I'm Trevor, and everything is going to be fine."
The woman calmed down a little, "I'm Hannah, and..."
The older girl quickly spoke up, "I'm Barbara."
Hannah continued, "This is Amy."
"Okay, Amy, I'm going to pick you up. It's going to hurt. You hang tough for me, okay?"
"Okay," she answered in a small, shaky voice.
I scooped her up as carefully as I could and immediately headed down the trail.
Worried, Hannah asked, "It's a long ways back to the parking lot. Can you carry her that far?"
"How much do you weigh, Amy?" I asked, in a calm, conversational voice.
