up him. He pushed my hair behind my ear and rubbed the side of my face. I pressed my face against his hand and he pulled me towards him so I was now sitting on his lap with my face in his neck. I started crying uncontrollably. I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop, because it felt good, like I needed a cleansing. Elliot continued to rub my hair and back, telling me to let it out and that it was going to be okay. I cried harder, because everything Elliot said - he was right, but I didn’t know the first way to change or stop my behavior. I cried and cried. Eventually, Elliot picked me up and put me in his guest bedroom, where he sat on the bed and rubbed my back and I silently cried in the pillow.
There was a knock at the door, but I just kept crying. I was so lost. Elliot left to answer it and I heard some whispering. Hopefully, I wasn’t intruding on his significant other, because he never talked about anyone else. I figured he was celibate or something. He mentioned that he thought women were cute, but as long as I had known him, he never mentioned anyone significant. Elliot came back to the room, sat on the bed and I turned to him. He handed me some tissues and said, “Babe, there is someone here to see you. For what it’s worth, I think you should talk to them, because this is important. Plus, they might castrate me if I don’t allow it.”
He must have texted Roslyn when I started losing my shit. Guys didn’t know what to do about girls crying. I nodded my head and he said, “I’ll be right back.”
My back was against the headboard, as I sat erect in the bed. Tears were streaming down my face, but I decided to fix my hair since it was matted from the wetness of my waterworks. It was then that I smelled him before I saw him. Not Elliot, but Joshua. He smelled like the ocean.
What the hell ?
When I finally looked up, I blankly stared into his eyes. It was evident that he was upset, if the scowl on his face gave any indication. His anger was not a concern of mine after what he pulled. My focus was on the fact that I did not want him to see me like this, as if I was crying over him.
“Listen, can we speak at another time? I’m going through some things right now and I’d rather not talk to you,” I asked, calmly.
“Is this about dinner?” he gestured to me, moving his finger up and down my frame.
“No, this isn’t about no damn dinner, this is about my fucking life,” my voice elevated slightly.
Elliot came to the door and raised an eyebrow in my direction.
“We’re fine,” Joshua snarled.
“Are you alright Sam?” Elliot ignored Joshua.
“I’m fine,” I replied.
Elliot nodded, then left. Joshua closed the door while I swiveled my legs around so I could stand. He stalked towards me like a lion with his prey in sight. In a panic, I held up my hand to signal for him to stop. His face contorted as if he smelled something bad, thus causing his scowl to grow deeper.
“What you did and said at dinner today was so --” he seemed to be looking for the right word. “So immature.”
It was my turn to wince.
He continued, “I invite you to dinner and you embarrass me in front of my --”
“Wife!” I screamed.
All I could see was red, as I was livid. He had the dirty nerve to come in here and give me a goddamn lecture on my behavior.
Before I realized it, I was stalking towards him with my finger in his face yelling, “You have a fucking wife and you failed to tell me that. You’ve been married for thirteen goddamn years and that somehow slipped your mind. All while you were providing me with orgasms, telling me how much you want me and what you’re going to do to me when you get me in bed.”
I was on a roll. “First you dismiss me via email, send me a message via your driver, and then have a woman, I mean your wife,” I emphasized, “intrude on what would constitute as our first date. She pushed the dagger in more by dropping the bomb that she is still your wife. So, excuse
There was a knock at the door, but I just kept crying. I was so lost. Elliot left to answer it and I heard some whispering. Hopefully, I wasn’t intruding on his significant other, because he never talked about anyone else. I figured he was celibate or something. He mentioned that he thought women were cute, but as long as I had known him, he never mentioned anyone significant. Elliot came back to the room, sat on the bed and I turned to him. He handed me some tissues and said, “Babe, there is someone here to see you. For what it’s worth, I think you should talk to them, because this is important. Plus, they might castrate me if I don’t allow it.”
He must have texted Roslyn when I started losing my shit. Guys didn’t know what to do about girls crying. I nodded my head and he said, “I’ll be right back.”
My back was against the headboard, as I sat erect in the bed. Tears were streaming down my face, but I decided to fix my hair since it was matted from the wetness of my waterworks. It was then that I smelled him before I saw him. Not Elliot, but Joshua. He smelled like the ocean.
What the hell ?
When I finally looked up, I blankly stared into his eyes. It was evident that he was upset, if the scowl on his face gave any indication. His anger was not a concern of mine after what he pulled. My focus was on the fact that I did not want him to see me like this, as if I was crying over him.
“Listen, can we speak at another time? I’m going through some things right now and I’d rather not talk to you,” I asked, calmly.
“Is this about dinner?” he gestured to me, moving his finger up and down my frame.
“No, this isn’t about no damn dinner, this is about my fucking life,” my voice elevated slightly.
Elliot came to the door and raised an eyebrow in my direction.
“We’re fine,” Joshua snarled.
“Are you alright Sam?” Elliot ignored Joshua.
“I’m fine,” I replied.
Elliot nodded, then left. Joshua closed the door while I swiveled my legs around so I could stand. He stalked towards me like a lion with his prey in sight. In a panic, I held up my hand to signal for him to stop. His face contorted as if he smelled something bad, thus causing his scowl to grow deeper.
“What you did and said at dinner today was so --” he seemed to be looking for the right word. “So immature.”
It was my turn to wince.
He continued, “I invite you to dinner and you embarrass me in front of my --”
“Wife!” I screamed.
All I could see was red, as I was livid. He had the dirty nerve to come in here and give me a goddamn lecture on my behavior.
Before I realized it, I was stalking towards him with my finger in his face yelling, “You have a fucking wife and you failed to tell me that. You’ve been married for thirteen goddamn years and that somehow slipped your mind. All while you were providing me with orgasms, telling me how much you want me and what you’re going to do to me when you get me in bed.”
I was on a roll. “First you dismiss me via email, send me a message via your driver, and then have a woman, I mean your wife,” I emphasized, “intrude on what would constitute as our first date. She pushed the dagger in more by dropping the bomb that she is still your wife. So, excuse