AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I hate her.
I roll my eyes, knowing that I’m a liar, because really, I fucking love her. Without her, I’d be drowning in my mess. She’s saved me countless times between stepping up when I need a five-minute breather or pulling the weight for me at work on a bad day.
But last night was all her fault. I never would’ve gone to the club if it weren’t for her. Never would’ve let a stranger finger fuck me in a public bathroom.
I groan and glare at her. “I’m a horrible person.”
Veronica rushes to the counter, pressing herself against me in an awkward side hug. “Oh my God. You had sex with someone.Finally.”
“No! Not finally! God. Do you know how shitty this feels? I let a stranger finger me! While I’m still grieving my dead husband.”
She waves her hand, scoffing. “It’s been five years. Time to get back on the horse.”
I shake my head, turning the sink on to scrub my face. “That’s not how this works, Vee. You don’t just get over the love of your life like that. And I hate how I feel right now.”
“We’ll get you some grease and you’ll be good as new.”
It’s not my stomach. It’s my heart. I betrayed my wedding vows; I gave up on him. I let another man touch me, and I hate myself for it.
Veronica squeezes my shoulders, commanding my attention. “Sammy. You’re a grown woman with needs. You did nothing wrong. It’s not like you went and got hitched. You simply scratched an itch.” She stops, her eyes narrowing in on me. “Wait. Please tell me you came?”
Heat rises to my cheeks. I dip my head, turning away from her.
“Oh my God!” She shouts. “What the fuck, Samira?”
“I freaked out and ran away,” I defend.
I yank away from her grip and rest my hands against the countertop. My shoulders sink. I’m defeated. Embarrassed about what happened, but most of all, I hate myself. It feels like I’ve betrayed Ian somehow, letting another person touch my body.
“You can hold a place in your heart for Ian, and still have whatever it is you want,” Veronica continues, cutting into my thoughts. “Whether that’s companionship, a fling, or more. Moving on doesn’t mean you’re forgetting him.”
I force a smile on my face, but I feel anything but happy. She pulls me into a hug, squeezing me. “Now, get yourself together. I was going to let you sleep in, but since you’re awake, I’ll get us some greasy food. I’ll bring the twerp with me too.”
“Okay,” I say on a broken whisper. I sniffle, pulling away.
“Hop in the shower.” She backs away and out of the bathroom.
I’m left alone to stare at my reflection. My eyes are puffy from tears, but more importantly they’re lost. I haven’t been myself in a very long time. I don’t even remember what it’s like to know who I am. Sure, I’ve been through this before. After having kids, becoming a work-wife and mom, I had to find myself after. But this? This is something different.
I like to fuck, damnit. I enjoy the feel of a man touching my body, of giving me pleasure, and I love being the reason a man comes undone.
My sex life used to be healthy and active. Before, I’d have never let what happened last night upset me or make me feel anything but positive. Now . . . I sigh. Now, I’m lost and broken, and I’m guilty for coming close to another man who isn’t my husband.
I hop in the shower, cleaning off the negative emotions with scalding hot water and an exfoliating brush. There’s nothing better than melting your skin off to start a fresh day. I even get to shave and wash my hair with no interruptions. I bask in the quietness, something I don’t think I get enough of, and don’t leave the bathroom until I’ve completely dried and put lotion on my body. I’m ready to crawl back into bed when my phone rings.
Contentment washes over me as I answer. “Hey, Dad,” I say, nestling the phone between my ear and shoulder. I crawl into bed and let out a yawn.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” he says, his voice cheerful. “Happy Saturday. I just wanted to wish you luck on your event tonight.”
“Thanks, Dad.” I grin, happy that he remembered how important today is to me.
“What are the kids up to today?”
“Max is going to hang out with the neighbors, and Em will probably go to one of her friends’ for the day.”
He tuts, and I already know he’s thinking up a good excuse to drive over today, instead of on Thursday, like we planned. He always offers, and I always say no. The truth is. As close as I am with him, I always feel too bad. He already did his job raising me. He doesn’t need to raise my children, too. It’s better this way.
A part of me thinks he is trying to make up for the fact that Ian's parents aren't involved. We haven't seen them since the funeral. No Christmas cards, or birthday wishes. They don't answer my calls. It's like we never existed to them now that their son is gone.
