Three

Faint giggles pierces through the painful memory, the vision from those days blurs. An acute pain like a knife being twisted in my guts drags me back to the present, my new reality, I suck in a shaky breath, blinking until the haze clears and I remember where I am. What I am doing. What I always do. Stalk her. Hell will be too chill a place for me if she finds out but who will tell her?

Not me. I can’t slip up on an act I have had going for nearly five years. I have become a pro at stalking her, a proud one at that. If she wasn’t so stiff, so unresponsive, I wouldn’t have resorted to this.

If she had kept to her words and empty promises, we might have worked things out.

You are my beginning, my middle, my end. I scoff. Indeed. Your sins are forgivable. You are mine, I will always love you. Right until it was time to prove it. Promises upon promises. All of them, fake and empty.

Running a hand over my face, I release my breath slowly like I had learnt over the years to curb the deep anger that always followed thoughts of her. All I have lost, all I—we could have been as a family. She gave me hope. A glimpse of our future in those months, had me wishing for the unattainable with her plenty of promises. When time came for her to stand by her words, she walked away without a glance.

No, I did. She deserves that house. But it doesn’t change the fact she chose to watch me leave.

If anyone had told me this would be my lot—an estranged relationship with the mother of my kids, the woman who hates the sight of me and is disgusted by my mere presence, I would have laughed in their faces. Gave them a pat on their backs or some spare cash for assuming I would let any woman bear my kids.

For daring to think I would have a wife who would worm her way into my heart, break it into a million pieces and throw it in my face. I would have bought the person bottles of fine whiskey so he could get high on quality drinks and spew meaningful rubbish that had little chances of happening.

Now, I am all I said I would never be. A father with beautiful kids I love more than life itself, a husband who misses his wife so much he is watching her without her knowledge because that’s the closest he will ever get to her. I slap a sweaty palm over my forehead, I am so pathetic. If she walks in this moment, she will smell the desperation leaking from me and race out of the room to avoid contaminating herself.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

It’s not entirely her fault. Maybe it is, her and her ability to draw the truth out of me. If I had kept my lips sealed, we would be fine. We would still be a family, a small but happy one. Now, all I have left to remember us is a mug, a key holder and a locket I pretend to hate. And our kids, our twins. God knows I have managed to stay sane all these years because of those troublesome angels, the only calm in this drama I call my life.

They must be in school now, I don’t get them until Friday, my new favourite day of the week.

Bending my laptop screen to get the perfect view of Elna’s bewitching body, a smile curves my lips when her robe drops to the floor to reveal her in her naked glory. As always, she traces the stretch marks on her tummy, marks that appeared after the twins' birth. That odd look creeps into her eyes as she stares into the mirror and I have to push my phone away to stop myself from sending her an appreciation text.

She is beautiful just the way she is. Those stretch marks don’t diminish her beauty or awesomeness. For fuck sake, she brought two treasures into this world, she needs to give herself and body more credit. And oh, Lord, look at those breasts. Those brown nipples I miss running my tongue over. Sucking them.

A lot of good has come from her having our twins. Fuller breasts I want to bury my face in, trace my dick between her mounds. Thicker thighs I want to spend most of my evenings between. I have always loved her body but this right here is Elna 2.0; an upgraded version of herself, curves and all. I want her. In all, childbearing gave her a new body, one I never got the chance to appreciate with my hands and tongue.

The twitching in my groin has me shooting out from my swivel chair, I pull off my slacks without taking my eyes off the screen and yank my shirt open, causing black buttons to roll to the floor. I didn’t get a chance to change out of my office attire. With the success of the electric cars and the insane demands, I have little or no time to take care of myself. Throw in the twins and I’m a mess. A rich, lonely mess.

I miss my wife. I miss hearing her laughter, screams. She would have chewed my head off if she learnt I was surviving on less than two square meals a day. A lecture would follow her screams, an assurance of her love and a lunch pack daily to avoid me skipping meals with kisses to make up for shouting at me.

Elna. I miss that woman, I miss kissing away her tears even though I was a huge source of them. I was an asshole but I miss her and her high demands for sugar. The piggyback rides she forced out of me until it became a routine and her bump could no longer allow it. Her patience and understanding with me.

No one looks at me the way she does, I don’t know how she manages to make me feel like I am the best man on earth. But she does. I am the worst but she looked past my sins and saw me. Until she found out about him. He should have stayed inexistent. Even in death, the bastard still found a way to ruin my life.

Motherfucker.

One would think sharing a womb with him would have made us best buddies. What a joke. For him, his needs come first, even at the detriment of everyone around him. And they encouraged it, those poor excuses of a parent, they are as much to blame as he is. Joshua was lucky to get away from them early.

We could have been close. We were, at some point, however short a period that was but he had to let them sway him. A post over his brother, his twin. I would never betray someone I love that way but he is not me. That regular throbbing starts in my temple, I let my fingers run in circles around it until it eases. I hope he is made the CEO in one of hell’s departments, the position he ruined my daughter’s life for.

I’ll probably be made his assistant when I die because there is no way heaven will accept a fucked soul like mine. If El can’t, no one else will. And fuck her too for making me this way. The marriage was more out of convenience. Her father might be old and fragile but he is the master of trickery, he lured me.

I had to go on a date—that never happened—with his only daughter and the next second, her old man was suggesting marriage. Filling my ears with the needs of a wife. While I was running my investigations on him, he was also doing his. He had me where he wanted, he knew about my secret longing for a wife.

If he had given me an uglier picture of her to look at, I might have turned down the proposal. But he had to show me a picture where she was smiling so bright at the camera. Her hair falling over her face with her eyes reflecting happiness. He called her an angel and it was no lie. But that angel broke me. She left.

The sound from my laptop jolts me out of my reverie, I groan when El bends to retrieve the cap of one of the numerous creams on the counter, giving me a sensual view of her round, perky ass. Her ass grew bigger too and I can’t wait to have my hands, mouth and tongue on them, to know if they remained soft. Left to her, my secret fantasies will never be fulfilled but it doesn’t stop me from hoping, from wishing.

That position is perfect. I will stand behind her while she’s bent at angle ninety, fingers touching the floor, body convulsing as I ram into her. Maybe we will try the anal sex she hates so much after she sucks me off. Fuck me if I say I don’t want that. I need to have that sharp mouth impaled on my dick.

To have her batting those long eyelashes at me while she fondles my balls and teases my shaft with her sweet tongue. I free my dick as the images in my mind take shape. Her ass occupying the whole of my screen sends a wild need straight to my groin and I shift in my seat. She is tempting me with that ass. I grunt, pretending her delicate fingers are curled around my hard member. Stroking me to the point of release.

I can’t go fast, her bath takes twenty minutes on an average, I need to make wise use of the time. I ease my grip on my cock, focus on my shaft until the familiar wetness seeps out while wondering if she still loves my precum. At this rate, I might as well start a reality show called: Stalking wives with Brandon Stark.