As a rule, men don’t grow up believing in a happily ever after. We don’t believe in meeting the love of our lives; or the white picket fence, and 2.5 children. Every man thinks that those stupid dreams or fantasies are just nonexistent shit until it happens to them. We should have been forewarned.
I wish I was prepared for someone to appear in my life and change all my priorities. I suddenly wanted that fence and children. The part of meeting the love of my life became very real, but I wasn’t ready for suddenly losing it all, and my life plummeting into this shithole forever.
The heartbreak of losing your soulmate is one of the worst pains you will ever live with. I should campaign and warn the young people. Vaccinate against love because if you lose it, you could lose yourself for the rest of your life. The burden on your back will forever mark you and wither away your soul, darkening your days and the rest of your natural life.
This isn’t false advertisement or a dramatic display of one bitter soul.
I fought by my mother's side until her last breath, and tried to help my father until his last memories dissipated. My sister is the last one standing, but her life is a miracle that can end at any given moment. All my life I’ve never been alone, but always felt lonely.
Today, my options on how to live my life are endless, yet my heart and my best friend limit them. Stay in Seattle, close to the one person that will never let me inside his world.
The thug, as mom would've called him. A man with a bad boy attitude and a heart bigger than the ocean.
“He is. That’s…” I stop before I say I do the same. The bitter taste of knowing that she walked in on me fucking another woman hasn’t disappeared. “Our neighbor. Usually our downstairs neighbor is his booty call.” She looks over her shoulder with a worried frown. “Only the single ones. Don’t give me that judgmental face.”
“I wasn’t judging. In fact, I’m solving one of the issues I have.” I walk toward the couch and take a seat while watching her. This sounds interesting. It’s puzzling too. How can a booty call solve her issues? “You should do that—an indoor booty call. If you have someone steady and discreet, drink at home—”
“Then I’ll be pathetic and become an alcoholic.” She looks at me skeptically, while walking toward the couch opposite mine. “I’m not, Pria. I abstain from drinking. There are days I have to do it in order to keep my promise to my brother and sister.”
“Ours, and for no one to learn about.” I send her a warning glare. “Steady sex, I’ll think about it…are you volunteering?”
She cackles, and as her eyes brighten, a delightful emotion runs through my veins. It doesn’t bother me that she’s laughing at my expense.
“Tell me, Jacob, in this scenario of yours, am I also handing you my ass?” She scans around and sets her eyes on mine. “You’re my client. I never cross that line with clients.”
“Clear your roster and dedicate yourself to me,” I suggest, and she laughs harder.
“Am I entertaining you?”
“You’re funny. Afraid not. You’re not my only one. I don’t have many right now, but I have to finish the projects I have.” She takes off her boots and places her well-manicured feet up on the couch under her. “You and the Bradleys are my only long-term projects, but I can’t turn down the short-term ones. We need the money. Yes, the retainer you and your sister gave me helped with paying all the medical bills I had pending from Mom’s illness, and a lot of Dad’s, but we still have a long way to go.”
“She’s doing well. There’s so much out there now to help her with her immune system and her lung capability.” She bites her cheek. “Mae might out-live me too. The only reason she stays at home is to keep an eye on Dad. He responds better to her.”
“So, sex?” I want to lighten the atmosphere; the intensity is going to choke me. “You have anyone special at the moment?”
“Of course, I have a line of suitors outside my house on a daily basis.” The playful laugh appears. “Because I’m such a catch. Let’s see, I live at my parents’, I’m broke, fat, and I care for my mentally ill father. That screams attractive.”
“I won’t succumb to your trap.” Pria tilts her head and bites her smirk. “You want me to tell you that you’re crazy, because you’re in fact, perfect. Any man would be lucky to have this strong, courageous girl who takes care of her family. And to top it all off, you’re pretty and hot.”
“You wouldn’t be caught dead with someone my size.”
“You’re right. I would never in a million years get caught having sex with you,” I confirm; then confess why I wouldn’t. “I’m a selfish asshole. That means that I’d never let anyone else see you naked, see how your eyes illuminate when you’re in a sex haze, or come close to you while I possess you. In fact, I’ve played a few scenarios in my mind of how to find that Robbie and make him pay for touching my girl. But then I’m reminded that it isn’t like that anymore; that ‘us’ wasn’t real.”
Pria mirrors my stare. Lust and hunger. Matthew is right, Pria still affects me. She affects my mind, my heart—but not my soul. I’m soulless, unless she took it with her, as Matthew has always presumed, and tossed it away. I believed that for a year, which is where the “fucking bitch you’ll pay for leaving me” songs came from. I’m not proud of them.
Born on the mystical day of October 30th in the not so mystical lands of Mexico City, Claudia grew up with a childhood that resembled a caffeine-injected soap opera. Seventeen years ago she ventured to the lands of her techie husband—a.k.a. the U.S.—with their offspring to start a new adventure.
She now lives in Colorado working as a CFO for a small IT company, managing her household filled with three confused dogs, said nerd husband, two daughters wrought with fandoms and a son who thinks he’s the boss of the house. To survive she works continually to find purpose for the voices flitting through her head, plus she consumes high quantities of chocolate to keep the last threads of sanity intact.