SHARING EMMA [18+]

21. Sense of Satisfaction

|RYKER|

There are moments when I feel utterly lost, as if I'm not in control of my own actions. The overwhelming fury that surges through me is like a tempest, and it's in those moments that I become someone else entirely. It's like my mind shuts down, and my body takes over. I know that I should stop myself, but I can't help it. The only thing that matters is making sure that my dad is never truly happy.

I know that it's a twisted way of thinking, but I can't help it. The thought of him finding happiness and satisfaction in anything is like a dagger twisting in my gut. I've held this deep-seated animosity for so long that it's become a part of me. Every time I lay eyes on him, all I see is a man who deserves to suffer.

It's no surprise then that my resentment has spilled over into my feelings for Emma. She's become a symbol of everything that's wrong in my dad's life. Every time I see them together, I can feel the anger bubbling up inside of me. It's like I want to tear her away from him, to make sure that he never experiences even a moment of happiness with her.

It's true that I had a selfish motive behind inviting Emma to stay with me. My father's presence in her life made me feel uneasy and I couldn't bear the thought of them living together. It was a decision made purely out of my own self-interest.

Looking back, I realize that I should have been honest with Emma about my intentions. But at the time, I was so consumed by my own insecurities and anger that I chose to manipulate the situation.

However, despite the dishonesty, I can't deny that a part of me felt relieved since the moment I suggested it. The idea of having Emma all to myself without my father's interference gave me a sense of satisfaction that I had been longing for a long time.

The worst part of it all is that Emma is now aware of my deceitful actions, and rightfully despises me for it. It's not like I expected her to forgive me, but the fact that I caused her pain eats away at me. I can't shake off the guilt that clings to my chest like a heavy weight. It's as if I'm carrying the sins of my father, the same man who tormented my mother for years. The mere thought of being anything like him terrifies me to the core.

No. I would rather fucking die.

I had spent the entire night tossing and turning in my bed, unable to find a moment's rest. Every inch of my body was consumed by thoughts of Emma. I couldn't help but imagine the feel of her skin against mine, the taste of her lips on mine, and the sound of her breath in my ear. It was driving me insane. My fingertips ached with the need to touch her, and my lips were dry, yearning for the moisture of her mouth.

But as much as I craved her, I couldn't help feeling disgusted by the fact that she willingly slept with my father. It wasn't about money or status or any of that bullshit. It was about the fact that she let him have her, allowed him to slide in and out of her for no reason other than his own pleasure. It made me want to scream, to punch a wall or flip a table. I couldn't understand why I was so drawn to her, why I couldn't get her out of my mind, even though she was with my father. The mere thought of it made me sick to my stomach.

The next two days were pure torture. I stayed holed up inside the mansion, unable to face the outside world, afraid that Emma might bump into me. Every sound made me jump, every creak of the floorboards made me turn around, hoping it wasn't her. My mind was consumed by thoughts of her, of what I had done, of how I had hurt her. I tried to tell myself that two days was more than enough time for her to move on from that night, to forget the hurt and the betrayal. But deep down, I knew that it wasn't that simple. I knew that she was probably still hurting, still trying to make sense of what had happened between us. And the worst part was that I didn't even have the courage to face her, to look into her eyes and apologize for what I had done.