Page 52 of Driving Beats

How dare she call my feelings bullshit?

If I didn’t have bare feet, I would kick the chair. Instead, I pace around the bedroom, ending up staring out the windows, seeing nothing. My naked body reminds me what Nese and I did in here not even thirty minutes ago. I haven’t had sex since Lillian, and I choose to break my celibacy with her? What was I thinking.

Images from tonight dance in my mind. My satisfied body is at odds with my racing thoughts. I stomp into my bathroom and turn on the hot water. The hotter the better—I need to wash Nese off of me.

In the shower, the water rolls over my overheated body. Throughout the years, Río, 007, and Bennett all told me to get back on the horse and fuck Lillian out of my system. Hell, so did Luke. Well, I just did and Lillian’s mocking me louder than ever for taking a barely legal girl to bed and not even making it one full night before kicking her out of my room. I guess it’s better than her leaving of her own accord.

I scrub my cock as if it were covered in something contagious. Turning, I let the water sluice over my back and tip my head backward to get my hair wet. Finally, my shoulders lower and my breathing evens. When I step out of my shower, I'm restored to normal, at least on the outside.

Inside, though, I’m bruised to the core. Returning into my room, I toss my towel onto the bed and pick up the sweats I wore before. Dropping those, I rummage around my dresser until I locate a pair of my old shorts, with the hole on the thigh. Whatever. Nese didn’t choose these.

With my new Buddhist book in hand, I walk into my Reflection Room and calm washes over me. The fact Nese hasn’t been in here is a bonus.

I light the candles and sit on one of the pillows. Time to clear my mind. I close my eyes.

Everything that happened today comes rushing back. Dim sum. The botanical garden. The pool. My bed. Each instance plays on repeat. Happiness with her for trying the eggplant. Sympathy for her with how she was brought up. Determination for her in discovering who the real Nese is. Bliss at her orgasm in the pool.

The bed.

What do I feel about what we did there? Joy and completeness, surely. Anger, frustration, disgust too. Who is she to accuse Lillian of cheating on me with several men?

Río’s words from back then resurface, arguing the same.

It doesn’t matter. It still can’t erase the fact our vows weren’t enough to keep Lillian faithful. I trusted her implicitly. I’ll never repeat this mistake.

At least with the stylist there’s no commitment. She isn’t looking for anything more from me, nor is she offering her idea of forever. Good. Exactly what I need.

It doesn’t matter that sex with Nese was better than I ever remember with Lillian. She unlocked parts of me I didn’t know existed. Where did her climaxing three times come from, anyway?

Focus on meditation.

I try for another twenty minutes, but the same images roll around my mind. Finally, I give up. Leaving for my music room, I pick up my first guitar. The one that always gives me a creative outlet. I strum UC’s first hit, playing it the original way Darren wrote the bridge rather than how we perform it today. Somehow, old school soothes my bruised soul.

I put the guitar back on its stand and confront the reality Nese pointed out to me. Was Lillian destined to stray, no matter if I were with her all the time?

Whatever. The end result is still the same. I was humiliated in front of my brothers—both UC and my real one—because I trusted my wife to remain faithful.

I had my shot, and now it’s over.

Nese is slightly older than Lillian and I were when we got married. Lord knows, she’s nowhere near ready to be in a committed relationship. Was Lillian like her?

On the other hand, Nese has been through more in her short life than Lillian ever did—escaping from a cult, essentially losing her mother, finding her way in the world at only eighteen. Perhaps she can see things more clearly because of her experiences?

My phone shows it’s two in the morning. I should get some shut eye. As I leave, I glance at the Media Room where Nese made me the earrings. I trudge upstairs and slip into my bed, which feels oddly lonely.

When I wake, the sun’s streaming in through the windows. I must’ve passed out sometime during the early hours of the morning, but my mind’s filled with lists:

Why sleeping with Nese was wrong:

She’s my coworker

She’s almost ten years younger than me

She’s recklessness personified while I’m deliberate

Despite being phenomenal, why sex with her cannot happen ever again:

After Lillian, I swore off women