Bears in Mind

Bears in Mind Bears in Mind © Sam Hall 2023 All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except for in the case of brief quotations for the use in critical articles or reviews. Edited by Steph Tashkoff Cover art and design by Design by Definition The characters and events depicted in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Bears in Mind Sam Hall Stalk me! Stalk me! Facebook author group: Sam’s Hall of Heroines Facebook page here Newsletter sign up here Instagram here Book Bub here Tiktok here Author Note This book is written in Australian English, which is a weird lovechild of British and American English. We tend to spell things the way the Brits do (expect a lot more u’s), yet also use American slang and swear more than both combined. While many people have gone over this book, trying to find all the typos and other mistakes, they just keep on popping up like bloody rabbits. If you spot one, don’t report it to Amazon, drop me an email at the below address so I can fix the issue. [email protected] Contents Stalk me! Author Note Trigger Warning Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Chapter 43 Chapter 44 What’s next? Acknowledgments Trigger Warning Trigger and Content Warning This book deals primarily with the breakdown of a marriage (FMC and the antagonist of the book) and her subsequent much happier relationship with a harem of bear shifters. As a result you will read about: A marriage that was limping along for some time. The husband/antagonist engaging in emotional abuse and cheating (though the FMC does not see this, just finds evidence of it afterwards). The husband pretending to want an open or poly relationship and proceeding to completely misunderstand the realities of this relationship dynamic. THIS BOOK IS NOT SUPPOSED TO BE ANTI POLY OR OPEN MARRIAGE. The husband’s attempts to maintain control over the FMC and his behaviour escalating into physical and financial abuse PLEASE NOTE: The FMC does not engage in anything romantic or sexual with any of the bear shifters until AFTER the husband has said he wants an open relationship and the vast majority of it happens after she has separated from her husband. If this is cheating in your book and you don’t like it, you might want to avoid this book. 1 I can’t do this, I thought, as I stood on the steps to Garrett’s, the local pub. I wasn’t usually one for having mental conversations with myself, but I was having one right now. I can’t. The crazy thing was that I had done this, plenty of times before. I knew this place well: the wooden door, the neon sign, the advertisements of the day’s specials blu-takked to the windows. I even knew the thud of the heavy bass line coming from the jukebox that was still churning out the same damn 80s pub rock it’d played since I’d first started sneaking in here, underage. I’d walked in that door more times than I could count and yet… here I stood on the steps, pulling my denim jacket tighter around me, delving into the pockets, searching for my keys. I’d get in the car, go home and… The reality of what faced me if I did go home, that’s what stopped me. Instead, I shoved my keys deeper into my pocket and pulled my hands free. There was nothing safe about going home. I couldn’t just sink into a hot bath with a good book, calling out to my husband to refill my glass of wine when I emptied it. I couldn’t smile up at him as he turned the hot water back on for me when the bath started to get cold. If I went home, it would be to a house both empty and full at the same time. “Nat, I…” When my husband struggled to find words, that’s when I’d realised something was very, very wrong, and the comfortable world I’d existed in started to fracture. I’d forced myself to look at him then, really seeing him in that moment and feeling then that he really saw me. His lips had pursed and then it had all come out. “I’m not attracted to you anymore.” He’d dropped that bomb one night after work, as we’d sat down to dinner. He’d prefaced his statement by telling me we needed to talk, and any appetite I might have felt for the Mongolian lamb and noodles I’d prepared well and truly disappeared. He’d watched my fork clatter on my plate, then nodded as if this was to be expected. Which had made me think he’d had this on his mind for some time. “You know I still love you.” Did I? Did I really? He’d taken my hand and given it a squeeze, shooting me that same crooked smile that had drawn me to him in the first place, ten years ago; but I had barely been able to feel his hand on mine. “I don’t want to split up, get a divorce or anything.” He’d sounded so fucking reasonable, talking calmly. Yet my throat closed up, stopping any oxygen from getting in, any words from getting out. “I want us to try…” He’d straightened up then, something hardening in the brown eyes I’d stared into so lovingly over the years. “I want us to try an