Love is an emotion that renders us vulnerable to others; when we fall in love, we cease to think or reason, our only desire is to be with our beloved, regardless of whether our feelings are reciprocated or not.
I do not speak of my wife Jenna; no, I married her out of spite, if that’s the right word, out of pain, for Cameron who was born from a wild night, a night of which I remember nothing.
I was hopelessly in love with Cynthia, a strikingly beautiful and tall woman, slim with eyes of deep blue, and hair that cascaded down to her waist, that’s what drove me mad.
Jenna was her best friend, and I’d never have given Jenna a second look. Honestly, I don’t know how that night happened; I just know I’d drunk heavily after learning of Cynthia’s betrayal. It hurt; it killed me inside when I saw her with that man whose identity I still don’t know, the pain shredded my soul, my life that night.
Jenna was so kind to me, staying by my side when her friend was in distress, sobbing and swearing her love for me, professing her innocence.
That night, I ended up in bed with Jenna. The next morning when I opened my eyes, there she was lying beside me, bare.
"What the hell did I do?" I clutched my head in dismay.
She woke up and flushed with embarrassment at the sight of my nudity.
"Jenna, what happened?" I asked the obvious.
Her lower lip quivered.
"I’ve been in love with you," she confessed amidst tears, "That’s why I gave you the most precious thing I have" she cast her eyes downward, "My virginity.” I was speechless, unable to comprehend that I took advantage of her under the influence, what kind of man was I.
"I'm sorry, Jenna, I didn't know you had feelings for me, much less that you were a virgin.”
"You had no reason to know, as you only had eyes for the traitorous Cynthia" her words struck right at my wound.
"Don’t mention her" I let her know, "Better get dressed, let's go home.” She stood up, her uncovered body testament to her beauty, and I also noticed the crimson stain confirming her words.
We dressed and left the hotel; just as we exited the room there was Cynthia, her eyes brimming with tears at the sight of us.
"Bruce, how could you?" Her tears stirred an irresistible urge to hold her, but the memory of her betrayal slapped me back to reality.
"And you, my supposed friend, are a traitor, a wretch" Jenna slapped her.
"You’re the real betrayer" Jenna rubbed her cheek, "Did you think Bruce would never find out what you were doing?" Jenna faced her, Cynthia's expression one of shock.
"You’re insane, Jenna. You know very well I love Bruce; he is the love of my life.”
"Stop lying, you hypocrite" Jenna retorted.
"You know, Bruce,” Cynthia said, "I hope you never regret believing this harpy. I hope you never find out this was all a ruse to separate us.”
I felt her pain, because it mirrored my own, but the evidence was damning.
Tears came now with the pain of remembering back then, when Jenna became my refuge.
Did I ever love Jenna? No, I harbor a great deal of affection and gratitude, but love, never. I’ve become a lothario, had my pick of women, but not one has filled the void left by Cynthia.
Now, I'm in a fling with my secretary; we’ve been seeing each other for a while, one of the few who seem to quench my thirst.
"Bruce, may I come in?" she peeks in.
"Come in, Caro" she enters with a bewitching stride that drives me wild.
"A client insists on you personally handling a design.”
"Refer them to Cameron.”
"No, they say they'll go to our competitors if you don't take it on" I raise an eyebrow.
"Set a meeting to see what they want so badly from me" She smiles, I beckon her over, "Come here" I pat my thigh invitingly, and she complies willingly.
I swiftly slide my hand up her skirt to find her panties drenched. I take her lips passionately, lift her onto the desk, pressing my hardness against her, her moans vibrating between us.
I hike her skirt up to her waist, then push her panties aside to make my way into her.
"Bruce!" she moans, "Being like this feels divine.” I silence her moans with a kiss.
I give her a playful spank before she leaves the office.
"Son, aren't you worried it’ll be your crazed wife walking in on your office rendezvous?" my mother scolds me.
"What do you want, Mom?" My mother may be older but she still looks quite striking, "I'm too old for your lectures.”
"Son, how you’ve changed since her death,” she reminds me.
"Mom, surely you didn't come here just to remind me that it's been 24 years since she passed" I say with the weight of the memory.
"Of course not, son, I came so we could have lunch together; I’ve told Cameron to join us.”
"Fine, let's go then" We exit the office.
I approach Carolina.
"Sweetheart, order something for yourself; I’m dining with my mother" She nods; I wait for Cameron, and we head to the restaurant. Every year on this day, my mother invites me out in the hopes of helping me forget what happened, but it's something I’ll never be able to erase.
We reach the restaurant, the three of us sitting down almost center-stage, and as usual, we draw stares, my mother's striking looks and the distinctive eye color from the Hunt side make her stand out.
My daughter, Mia, is the only one without them. I know Jenna has been unfaithful, just as I have been to her. I also know she's not the tender, sweet girl she pretended to be as Cynthia’s friend, the one I succumbed to while inebriated, taking her 'purity', that and my son were weighty reasons for marrying her. Here I am, 24 years later, still together, though she’s made it clear she’ll never divorce me, no matter how much we fight like cat and dog.
The waiter comes to take our order; we dine amiably, my mother and son are the most precious parts of my life. I adore Mia, though I know she’s not my child.
I do not deceive myself. I didn’t marry out of love, and Jenna knew it, she always knew who held my heart, Cynthia, it was always her. I did everything to forget her.
Had Cynthia told me she was carrying another man’s child, I would have raised it as my own, such was my love that I could have forgiven her error, her deceit. But she lied, swearing the child was mine. How can I forget the day the paternity test came back negative, destroying that last sliver of hope that it might be mine, hope that could've changed everything.
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