Their Rose Petal

Chapter Eighteen

It's been weeks since Bill's funeral. I met with the attorney, and found out Bill was a lot wealthier than he portrayed. I have cried a lot, and I haven't worked at the bar too much. It doesn't feel the same. He left me his two story house, both his truck and his car, and enough money to buy an another restaurant if I chose too. However, it doesn't feel right. Money he worked hard for, or maybe it was his wife's insurance policy. I'm not sure, but I am sure that it doesn't feel right having it.

Elias and Mateo paid for the entire funeral, despite my fits about it. It was beautiful, the gravesite even more exquisite. His headstone is large and expensive, and he is buried next to his wife. It was an emotional day, I've been emotional for weeks mourning the loss of someone I looked to as a father.

I miss him.

Dealing with loss is such a struggle when one is already mentally unstable. It's a battle every morning to get up and keep on going.

The boys have been nothing but supportive, they haven't tried anything sexual either. I understand their reasoning behind it. I'm mourning. I'm sad. All I've been doing is crying in my free time. But it's all I crave, to get lost in so much pleasure that it drowns out the pain. Maybe it's not a good coping mechanism, but it's the only one I can think of.

"So, what're you going to do with the house?" Kinsley asks as we sit at Roselet's, eating. I fiddle with the fork in my hand.

I shrug, taking a bite of my baked potato. "I don't know. I don't want to sell it, because it was his. I don't want to remodel it, because he has it the way he wanted it. I don't want to live in it, that just feels," I look for the right word. "Wrong."

"Mitch he left it to you for a reason. He had some family, distant maybe, but still family. You were who he chose over everyone who showed up to the funeral. They all knew you, but you knew none of them." She's right.  I think on her words for a moment, picturing face after face that introduced themselves to me the day of Bill's funeral. I didn't bother remembering their names, I'd never see them again.

"I'll think about it, just not quite yet. I got my first three bookings on my rental property in Tennessee." I change the subject quickly, wanting to avoid crying at all costs today.

"Ouu, so how'd you decorate the cabin?" She asks.

"Well, you know me." I smile softly. "I decorated it the same way I decorated Rose Petals." Her eyes light up at my response, leaning in closer.

"Shut up, you turned it into a demon semen cabin, didn't you?" She looks at me with wide eyes.

"Bondage chairs, ropes, all the good stuff needed for a good vacation. Somewhere more vanilla type couples can go to rekindle their sex life, all while seeming like a normal vacation. So when friends and family ask, they can say they're going to a cabin in Tennessee and not be lying." Amusement laces my tone. Three business, two of which revolving around sexual pleasure. Ten years ago I would've never imagined me being where I am now, doing what I do.

"You're one devious bitch, I like it." She chomps onto a piece of her steak, giggling. "Damien is coming over tonight, is that cool?" She asks.

They've been seeing each other on and off, and she said the sex progressively got better. Not great, but better. She says it's nothing serious, but I believe if he can spice it up in the bedroom he'll have her wrapped around his finger.

"That's fine, I'll probably go to the boys' anyway if they aren't busy. I haven't seen them in a few days." I sigh.

"Have you talked at least?"

"Yes, we have. They've been busy with work. They took enough days off to spend with me, I can't be greedy."

"What do they do, anyway? You never talk about their jobs, despite how much they work." She raises a brow.