Page 28 of Cloud Storm

My imagination runs wild, I have a long list of things I want to do to you.

Yours,

A x (The voice that keeps calling you from the desert, like a desperate madman)

Chapter 8

I hear his voice calling me, shouting my name. His footsteps coming from behind me, but I don’t care. I don’t want to see him.

A taxi passes by the front of the Cruise Ship Terminal and not giving two fucks if someone was waiting for it I get in and ask him to take me away from here.

Lancelot reaches the back of the car and I’m afraid, afraid that he will reach me and pull me out of the security the car offers.

I don’t want to see him.

I can’t see him now.

I have no strength.

I’m feeling worthless again.

“Are you all right, miss?” the older man asks, after I order him to drive the fuck away from here and fast.

“No,” I answer as firm as the knot of tears looming in my throat allows me. I feel so humiliated, only someone stupid could get tangled up in the same old story told thousands of times.

Humiliated for believing in the repentance of a man who lacks a heart, feelings and what is even more serious: Decency.

Never, no matter how much in love I become—which is not the case here—Never would I lower myself to be the other woman in any man’s life. It would be too denigrating, a sign of little self-esteem and I’ve had enough of that in my life.

“Keep driving through Harbor Drive, I’ll tell you where to stop.”

I’m about to fall apart, to allow the stubborn tears that are forming a hard lump to come to the surface.

Ariel, I’m sorry…

Those damn words are repeated in my head again and again.

Haunting me.

…the truth is that there is another woman.

What could be worse than that?

I’m pretty sure his next step would be to become his shoulder to cry on and complain about his heartless wife, their loveless life and the burden their marriage has become lately. Next, he’d say how she doesn’t understand him, that they are going to divorce.

Please!

I can’t help but roll my eyes.

The same ol’ story all men tell.

Well, putting it in practical terms I could have found out by chance later, and by then I could have given him my entire soul, as well as my panties.

And trying to be objective, I must admit he was honest, at least he told me.

Even so, the result is the same.

He felt guilty, because there is another woman.

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