When I woke up I thought I was alone, but no, she was still there; in my bed. She was not one of those men who used women, but when a person leaves a part of himself in you, it becomes difficult to discard that piece and become you again.
When Allyson left my world didn't fall apart. Not like those dramatic novels where nothing makes sense and things lose color. She had a reason to fight: Lucas. During that time I did my best to be a good father. I filled him with love and placed my hope in him; I clung to my son like a shipwrecked man to his lifeboat. That worked when things started to get out of hand; for the nights when I wanted to call her, listen to her, or catch a plane to London.
After a while I went with the flow of the world like a mature man is supposed to. However, she was still in my heart. Overwhelming my senses and cutting off what little peace of mind she had. But the icing on the cake was when my son got sick. He did what I could, but it took time to find a diagnosis and it was too late when they found out he only had months to live. In the blink of an eye, I was met with terrible news, which made me think: why? Why wasn't I allowed to be happy? What wrong had he done to not have peace?
However, although my life was turned upside down, I did not give up. I struggled to find someone who would give me even the slightest chance. I sought second opinions when no neurosurgeon wanted to operate on him. That's how I came across an article about her. Like a fool I thought it was fate looking for a way to get closer to Allyson. I thought it was a plan from the universe to see her and maybe pick up where we left off in the past.
Despite everything, I asked my sister about her. She would say things like: "she's in London", "she met a boy"; "Things are serious with him."
That part hurt but I told myself that it was the process of life. We agreed that we would go ahead; that our differences in what we wanted at the time were invincible. Allyson was in the stage of growing up and forging her own future while I had a son and an empire to run. She managed to move forward and, despite the fact that I was not happy and it hurt me, I recognized that it was for the best.
Then one day my sister confessed to me that Allyson was no longer with the boy, that she came back from London and that she was still single. That led me to believe that it was my chance, not only to save my son, but to find that love that marked my life for thirteen years.
However, the result was not what I expected: Allyson no longer loved me, I became a bad memory for her and she was in love with a man despite many years without seeing him. I can't even tell you how much that hurt me; Allie was always a good memory for me. The best she had after Lucas.
I had to let her go a second time. I'm not going to lie, she hurt her like shit, but she wasn't up to me anymore; it was the same universe telling me there was no chance with her. We were never meant to be together.
The first days I tried to be a mature man of forty-four years. Allyson became an excellent neurosurgeon and operated on my little boy. Lucas pulled through his operation and we returned to Louisiana, to my monotonous and empty life. With no one by my side in the morning. Without a person with whom he could share affinities. Only.
My son no longer depended on me. He was a thirteen-year-old teenager with his friends and boyish stuff. He no longer needed dad to stand up for him; And that was when loneliness hit me, because when you no longer have anything to hold on to, what do you have left?
I started dating. However, she wasn't doing it because she wanted to love someone. I went on dates because that was what you did when you were lonely: find company. Go ahead. Forget old loves and try to find your own way. That led me to the blonde lying on my bed. I met her thanks to Tom; a friend of the firm in Louisiana; and she was a friend of Tom's wife.
That was another factor that led me to dates: my friends were married men with children, who complained about the stifling of marriage. Maybe I wanted to feel less pathetic. He had money, he was mature, single, handsome, but alone. I did not accept that my life should end in such a simple way. I was reluctant to turn fifty and eat with my mother every day because I didn't have a woman in my bed.
-Hey? -I called.
He was not a child. We didn't have that thing to sleep and wait for love forever. I just wanted a night without thinking about Allyson and my blonde friend did a decent job. However, it was time for a new day and he was eager for her to leave before Lucas got up for school. After months of rest, my son could return to his daily life. He made me promise to take him to class after a long absence.
"Sorry, what time is it?" the woman asked pursing her lips, looking disoriented. To be fair, she wasn't ugly. She was a very pretty blonde actually. She looked very good for forty. Her problem was that she had just gotten out of a divorce and the last thing she needed was lawsuits with her ex-husbands.
“Time to go,” I called, not pretending that she was welcome to stay. He didn't want to create expectations in her.
She opened her mouth into an O, looking indignant. There was drama coming up and Tom was probably going to be mad because I hurt his wife's friend. However, it was his fault. He introduced us.
"Are you kicking me out?" She — she mumbled, so offended that I felt the need to roll my eyes at such an immature attitude.
—You were clear. Casual sex. Our time together ends with you getting out of bed.
It wasn't Romeo either. I gave myself a lot of hard time trying to learn how to survive the dreaded next day after a stranger ended up in my bed. I learned the hard way that being chivalrous after casual sex doesn't help. They are adult women, over forty years of age. They're supposed to understand that things at our age boil down to less drama, the better.
Apparently, my blonde friend was left in for the drama by letting out an unpleasant grunt, getting awkwardly out of bed kicking the sheets dismissively. She started cursing, saying a number of things that didn't interest me. She wasn't a teenager who was promised undying love by the boy; she was a woman with children and mature, she should have a little more respect for herself.
I left her ranting alone in the room while looking for her clothes. I thought going into the bathroom would save me from wasting time.
-How rude! she growled as she closed the bathroom door. I sighed and then denied. If you were looking for a stable relationship you should stop having casual sex and just meet someone the conventional way: dating and stuff.
Dad?
"Yes, champ?" I replied to my son without looking away from the parking lot, waiting for a car to finish leaving the space and hopefully park the car before the end of the world.Seriously, there are people who get their driver's license from the McDonald's happy meal
"Why was there an old woman coming out of the house?" Her,” she asked in an amused tone, causing me to cough as I choked on my saliva. He smiled as if that was very funny. It's okay, dad, I'm not a boy. You were taking a while to bring women into the house. My friends were betting that you were gay.
-That? I growled, not finding the comparison amusing. No bias here, I just didn't understand why go to such extremes.
"You don't date women. I have never met a single date. You eat with your grandmother on weekends… and during the week. And Uncle Gerard looks at you like you're sick with something contagious... yea , with a disgusted face. What did you expect him to think?He shrugged as if coming up with that idea was the most logical thing in the world.
Finally the person who was driving like a turtle got out of the space and I took advantage of it before someone else stole it from me. I put on the handbrake and turned to my son noticing the similarity to me, although his eyes were leaving the gray to acquire the green of his mother.
I heard that Loreine did not do well in prison. He messed with the wrong people and paid the price with his life. After everything he did to me I didn't hold a grudge against him, however Lucas had to pay too high a price in losing not only a mother but the ability to one day know her. "Well, I'm not gay, happy?" He was focused on you. Trying to be mother and father. Now that you've grown up, you don't give me much space in your life, do you? Someone must take care of me. He made a disgusted face, to spit out—: Too much information, dad! She covered her ears to emphasize his protest. "You called me gay." We are even. He wrinkled the corner of his lip, to turn the gesture into a smile. Then she gave a tired sigh as she looked out over the parking lot. She hoped that she would adjust to school. Lucas was at a difficult age. "Will you come back later or will Greg?" she asked when she turned her face to look at me. Greg was our driver. He wasn't always available to pick him up in the
For the middle of the night I felt that this dinner was the most boring thing that could be. He was in the auction part, where they were fighting to see which one of them could win a trip to Scotland, which surely they could easily afford, but it wasn't fun if they didn't have to bid on it, was it? It wasn't entertaining unless it was snatched from someone else's hands. In my search away from those pretentious piece of shit, I heard a curse in the ladies' room. The door was half open, I could just walk in, but I wasn't going to risk seeing something I couldn't erase from my memory so I waited patiently until I found out it was the woman who came with Jones. At that point I had serious trouble remembering her name, but I wasn't sure why Chelsea's name popped into my head after a few seconds. A black-haired girl accidentally crossed my mind. However, I let it slide when Jones's escort gave me a suspicious look. I looked at her, looking for the reason for her curse, however, everythi
"I've always wondered how a person with money can even think they have a bad life."He was judging me. People believed they had the right to do so. She had this idea that money gave me the ability to have everything. However, when you have money there is one thing you cannot buy: love.I did not reply to your comment. She would have her reason to think that I was a crybaby who had everything at my fingertips and she was not happy. Surely, she was thinking that if she had the amount of money that I had, she would do what she always dreamed of. It is the problem of people: they believe that money is the secret key to get what you want; that's why when they get it they feel hollow; because it is not enough to just have it.-Sorry. I don't know you and I'm getting into something I have no idea. I'm just trying to understand, you know?I went back to see her. Since she sat next to me I had only looked at her once. As weird as she seems, I paid attention to her clothes. She was wearing a re
Rain was never a big problem for me when I first came to Louisiana. I loved Florida for its sunny weather, the beaches, tourists who never slept, so moving to Louisiana wasn't so bad, except in the summer when hurricane season started; but even so, the days were so illuminated that they made a good contrast for people like me who did not arrive in time for the distribution of melanin. Surely the first thing that came to your mind was: typical girl with such a big family drama that she needs a lot of help. I didn't follow that pattern. I decided to fight for myself and get ahead. Some decisions better than others, but no one could accuse me of staying in a bed and letting my life go to shit. That's why I ended up in Louisiana. I'm not going to bore you with sad details from my past. The point was, I was in my apartment with more serious problems than a drug-dealing stepfather or an addicted mother.My problem had a name: Patrick Jones. That fucking pig was very good at keeping anyon
I was not surprised to find him at that event. It was becoming a habit to see him.It had been two months since I visited his office; of those months, she had seen him from afar seven times. He was an important man, he even thought more so than Jones. Maybe my client hated him for that reason, because Bradley got attention even if she didn't like him.At first I felt my insides burn when I saw it; Besides him acting like a lost and broken kid, there was also that hurt part of him rejecting me. A feeling that was alien to me because it didn't happen often.On this occasion, I had been watching him for a while, taking advantage of the fact that Jones was in a poker game in which women were a nuisance. It was his time to negotiate with people from the Italian mafia and I really didn't want to get involved in that. If Jones' wish was to die, that was his problem, as long as he didn't see me involved, I didn't care. What he was getting at was that he had been watching Bradley from a distan
Sunny looked at me with those beautiful big green eyes, praying I wouldn't put her to sleep. She was grateful that hers had inherited light, almost ash hair, courtesy of her father, as well as olive green eyes with blue flecks.At two years old, Sunny was not a very talkative child. I thought she was the legacy of her father, very little talkative. Randy was not a bad customer; a little eccentric, but he left a good tip. Unfortunately, one day we were lucky that the condom broke, which caused the accident called Sunny.Randy was married, a man in his late fifties, with a textile company; High profile. I couldn't stay in Florida any longer because Malcolm would never put me down with a baby bump, and while there are a couple of men with a fetish for fucking pregnant whores, most of them didn't like it. Wendy offered to help me while she got a new job.I just had to have Sunny and after three months I started working again. By six months I no longer had milk in my breasts. However, Sunn
My heart pounded when Bradley sat up, with that ability to stare at you. Desire, mixed with confusion, would make me scream that I needed him in my bed; that it didn't matter if he didn't want to pay, because he really wanted to fuck him.However, he was expectant, looking at me with such intensity that I felt naked. So, he did it: divert his attention from my face, to my chest. Contrary to what used to happen when they gave me that look, I realized that it did not cause me disgust, but rather a feeling of being desired; just how I wanted to feel with him.I approached, taking advantage of the value that his look caused me to bring my hands to his cheek, forcing him to look me in the eye again. He continued with that look between confused and yearning, but he didn't stop my hands when I reached his hair, running my fingers through his mane to feel the soft and silky strands. He closed his eyes and I guessed he was doing something right.The only time I experienced that kind of normal
My mom used to tell me that I was a lucky girl; she was pretty, talented and smart. However, she forgot the part where being independent leads you to be: "the best friend"; the one that waits in the friend zone because boys like princesses in distress.She understood guys better than some women. Having brothers led me to hang out with them long enough to see what other girls rarely get to know: guys prefer it easy. Yes, if the guy finds a woman who spreads her legs the first time, believe me, she will never notice you; unless he is looking for some stability you will be a zero to the left for him.But knowing that didn't prepare me for the first man I liked in almost seven years to be fucking someone else.I had heard of Bradley since very early in my life; maybe since I was seventeen, when I decided to go to law school. Besides, he was quite a well-known last name in Louisiana. But I heard about it as a task, an investigation; Nothing about his personal life, only in the professional
Thomas smiled kindly at first. That big head hadn't changed and I sensed that it was hard for him to trust my girl the first time. She hadn't told them about Alzheimer's. He hoped they wouldn't find out in the near future.The first time I experienced his lapses in my own flesh was precisely the day I turned forty-six. We were in bed talking about who we would leave Sunny with for the week of our honeymoon. After many birthdays where I felt apathetic towards the celebration, oddly enough, Chelsea managed to turn it around and make it the best she's had in a while. Nothing extreme like a party full of guests, but it was a Sunday, so I spent it with my family at home. Something as simple as a cake and a couple of gifts, but to see all the people I loved when I could lose everything, it was extraordinary.My day ended in bed after amazing sex. So there we were discussing whether to leave Sunny with Mom, Dona, or Joyce. When my girl didn't answer I looked at her curiously, thinking that t
They were getting married. The man he loved would marry the woman who effortlessly screamed how perfect she was.I felt like I hated her...He took away the only person who cared about me. The one who never looked at me for what he was: a prostitute. The one who tried to rescue me, but she was too busy being stubborn and stupid to let me love.Now I understood who he was but he no longer looked at me the same way; he was a nuisance in his life. A waste of time. The one who begged for a little sex or attention.I wanted to go back in time to the days where he offered me a better world. In which he wanted to be my friend; in which I could love him... when I had the option to choose.Bradley would have fought for me just as he was fighting for her. She didn't care about the bullshit he spread about Chelsea being a takeover, that she was using a pregnancy to position herself in society; that she was seeking to keep the Dempsey fortune.Being a whore brought me closer to gossip. Men told m
The end of January greeted me with the imminent arrival of my twenty-seventh birthday.On January 24, he would celebrate another year of life.I said that I was not interested in a meeting; if I was lucky they would grant my wish and do nothing at all. It wasn't because I felt any discomfort from the surgery, but because, although I was in a better mood, I didn't think it warranted a celebration.Dempsey went back to work and I went back to the apartment. At first, he loved my independence, but I recognize that he could be a bit of a loner.So, in an attempt to keep my mind busy, I thought I'd take out the baby stuff I bought, and find a place to donate.It was not a good idea. I ended up crying like an idiot in my room.It was the reason I was standing outside Dempsey's office, waiting for a meeting to end to see him.The secretary insisted that I could call him or wait for him in his office, but I didn't want to go that far. It was enough for her to barge into her workday, to dispos
"Don't leave me, baby," I repeated so many times that it made no sense in my head and the words got mixed up, creating an incoherent whirlpool inside me.The doctors stopped moving their hands around her and I knew. She left me. She left.I wanted to vomit...I hit the tempered glass with my right hand, to the point that my knuckles protested in pain, but that pain was preferable to the one inside.I couldn't even explain how fucking suffocating that poison was that moved through my being, infecting everything with a dull, sharp pain."You have to fight dammit!" Don't you dare leave me here! I yelled, until my hand came to life and I walked into that room to yell at him closer.He was angry and in pain and it was his fault. He left me here, in this fucking pain that was unbearable. She was coming from the depths and every second she was gaining more ground, to the degree that she didn't want to feel this. I preferred to die in that accident because I would not be able to resist.They
He told her about how it started; with the loss of memory, memories, faces, subtle things that are not of great importance. He told her that at some point he would become more serious, permanently forgetful. Inevitably, his brain would not be able to add memories and he would become an irritable person, with zero ability to reason. He wouldn't know who she is or those around her. He would reach the point where he would need medical attention because he would not fend for himself.My son asked if it would happen soon. Chelsea replied that she couldn't predict herself. She confessed to him that she had been having significant episodes for a couple of months; like the one at Walmart or that she almost killed her brother because he thought he was kidnapping her. My girl had the audacity to find that funny, in which Lucas and I remained silent, because it was not so funny from this side."I'm sorry," she whispered when she saw that he didn't return the smile. For now I am the same Chelsea.
I denied, with my eyes captivated by that wonderful smile that even with all the comments, lingered on his face. He would live exclusively for her.I had never been so sure of accepting a marriage proposal as I was at that moment, yet I was so happy that I barely managed to nod and reply a weak "I do."That smile widened and I was stunned for a few seconds, unable to control the effects he had on me. As Dempsey slid the rock onto my finger, I felt his trembling hand. It was like those movies where your world stops and the bad stuff makes sense.Looking at him, she wore that touch of pride and love in her gray eyes.I would fight my tears as his arms wrapped around me and murmuring how much he loved me.I forgot that his family was there, that the last month was a disaster, that we almost lost this wonderful thing; at the time we were just Mr. Dempsey and Chels. Two beings who loved each other and who defied any kind of circumstances to be together.It was crazy to believe that it woul
December 24: Good Night .He was sedentary. When you pass thirty-five, you prefer to stay at home and spend it with your family. At least, people like me, whose days are so busy that we even forget important dates. No time for extended vacations, getting home after eight, checking emails and paperwork on the weekends.For the holidays my inclination was to sleep, hang out with my family and put the cell phone aside.However, he had a beautiful pregnant wife who wanted to be with her brothers. She preferred to spend it in Lafayette with her family, sitting in front of a campfire. Since she couldn't drink, she would have a delicious non-alcoholic sparkling wine.When I agreed to spend this day with her I didn't consider the discomfort of being with him.I shouldn't care because we were in this private bubble for a couple of days, just being us, finding our way to where we were, taking baby steps into that future together that I could feel; one where I would watch my children grow up and
I had never come to this place.Even though it was December, New Orleans is touristy year-round, so I wasn't surprised to find tourists in a bar at twelve midnight.I was undecided between crawling away or having just a couple of drinks; he would know as the rounds progressed.I should be sleeping… I should be doing a lot of things right now, but none of them would help give me clarity.He was a mature man in his early fifties, this crossroads was left for boys of twenty or even thirty, who could sit and think for a long time about how to solve problems. At my age, I should be worried about Lucas's rebelliousness. That he didn't get a teenager pregnant. What university would he want to go to; what was his preference in a profession. He should be thinking about who would carry on my legacy if he wasn't inclined to run the Dempsey estate.The key word here is " should ".I should be in a bed with a beautiful sleeping wife, to go for a run in the morning and go to work. I should be think
I was sure that part of his argument was true, although I was betting that our situation played a role as well. However, he would play along.Me: That's why I'm a great businessman. You know, from eating greens and vegetables.He sent a smiley face and this was new to us. We weren't one to text her, but maybe this was less personal to her and she had the ability to talk to me.Chelsea: It's more of a personal achievement than broccoli power. Being a great entrepreneur is in you.His comment made me smile sheepishly. I stayed for a while looking at the screen thinking what to answer to that. Chelsea had this thing about leaving me without an answer. Maybe because he wasn't used to compliments. Not the sincere. That kind of praise that doesn't come disguised as nice words in order to have a benefit.Chelsea: Talking to you helps me feel better. Isn't it crazy?He wrote, which warmed my chest.Me: I have the same feeling.I answered. Talking to her put every need in her place.Chelsea: I