Bradley is faced with a difficult decision: let go of the past, give up on the present, and give the future a chance. However, no decision becomes easy when it comes to sex, love and fears. This is when Bradley questions everything. Is it possible to help others to the point of sacrificing your own happiness? He has no idea what to do: Claire or Chelsea? Which of the two will he really get to know, to the point that his heart chooses the right woman?View More
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
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