28. The Saddest Day of My Life
Brandon Henderson's Narrative
"Mornin'," Richard said as soon as he entered my private lounge, holding two glasses of beetroot juice. He had just come from the gym and his body was all sweaty and shiny.
He placed one glass of beetroot juice on a small table next to the lounger I was lying on.
I wasn't surprised when you didn't show up at the gym this mornin'. Knowing' last night was your honeymoon," Richard chuckled and plopped himself on the sofa. I was deep in thought and so I did not utter a word. Richard took a sip from his glass and fixed his eyes on me.
"What's up, buddy?" Richard asked.
"Today is the saddest day of my life. Last night, while I was havin' a good time, even though I was completely wasted, I felt like I was in freakin' paradise and I never wanted it to end. But, wakin' up this mornin' and findin' out that I fucked one of my wife's servants, it just brought so much sadness to me," I mumbled.
"Oh, my goodness! This is unreal. Tell me it didn't happen!" Richard shouted.
"She was a virgin," I added.
"Damn!!" Richard exclaimed.
"What if it really was Emma that I saw last night?" I asked myself. My heart skipped a beat just thinking about it.
I have been struggling with a problem that I first noticed on my twentieth birthday, a day when I consumed a considerable amount of wine. Within the walls of my bedroom, I experienced an intense desire to engage in sexual activities, despite still being a virgin at the time. After enduring several hours of this overwhelming urge, exhaustion finally overcame me and I fell asleep.
In response to this incident, I made a conscious decision to abstain from drinking wine for multiple years. However, during a social outing with my friends, my excitement got the better of me and I once again succumbed to the temptation of wine. As a result, I found myself unable to drive home. Thankfully, a kind lady volunteered to take me. At that time, we were residing in Anthony Coleman's house, and Samuel had not yet taken control of the aviation industry.
When we arrived at my room, I awoke the next morning to a shocking discovery - I was completely nude, with my arms wrapped around a lady, her ass pressed on my manhood.
Startled, I swiftly grabbed a bed sheet to cover myself. It dawned on me that I slept with the lady. The lady looked displeased and proceeded to recount the events of the previous night. Given that I had experienced something similar on my twentieth birthday, I had no reason to doubt her account.
We sat down and had a conversation about what had transpired. She demanded payment, and I obliged her request.
Emma, who was only eleven years old at the time, saw the lady leaving my room and became very upset. I couldn't explain the situation to her due to her age and lack of understanding.
Three years later, this unsettling occurrence happened once again. This time, I immediately scheduled an appointment with my doctor. As it turned out, the only way to prevent a repeat of these incidents was by abstaining from alcoholic beverages entirely. I confided in Emma about my struggle, and she took it upon herself to ensure that I never exceeded my doctor's recommended limit.
As I laid back in my recliner, my hand propped under my head, gazing up at the roof of the house, lost in deep thoughts about last night, the curtain suddenly parted and Rachel walked into the living room, lying down on the recliner beside me.
"Hey," she waved sarcastically at Richard. I couldn't help but wonder why Rachel despised all my buddies.
"Brandon, you didn't even touch your breakfast. Are you still hung up on what went down last night?" Rachel asked, intertwining her legs with mine and leaning in closer, as if she was about to plant a kiss on my lips.
"Rachel, just go away. I need some alone time," I muttered without even looking at her. Rachel let out a chuckle and moved her lips closer, attempting to kiss me again. I stopped her in her tracks.
"Seriously, please go," I pleaded.
"Your food's getting cold," Rachel smirked mischievously.
"I don't feel like eating."
"Look, you barely ate anything all last week after Emma ditched her family and ran off with her new boyfriend. You need to take a good long look at yourself in the mirror, man. You've lost a ton of weight! You gotta get some food in you," Rachel stated as she leaned in once more, trying to go in for a kiss. Once again, I halted her.
"Rachel, leave already," I said firmly.
"Fine, but we gotta start seeing the marriage counselor again. Our civil marriage is over, and I can't just be your wife in name only. I wanna be your real wife!"
"You can set up an appointment with the marriage counselor next week," I replied nonchalantly, just trying to dismiss her.
"Alright, but before then, can't you at least give me a good fuck right now?" Rachel said, sounding like a typical slut.
"Rachel, was Emma here last night?" I asked, slowly shifting my gaze to meet her eyes.
"Nah, she wasn't here last night. The maid you slept with is ready to talk to you. She's in my private lounge waiting for you. She just needs a couple of things from you," Rachel explained, and I immediately got up from the recliner.
"I need to see her right away," I declared, my heart racing as I pondered the consequences of the person waiting for me being Emma.
What would I tell the world? That I deflowered the girl I raised as my own? How could I face Samuel Coleman, my brother from another mother and my savior? How could I possibly convince Emma to consider plan B if she turned out to be the one? How would I look into Emma's eyes again, knowing she saw me in a vulnerable state she wasn't supposed to see? These thoughts raced through my mind as I rushed down the stairs.