Cruel Passions Of The Other Woman

|CH26|

•Keshay Lewis•
"Shay"

I lay asleep, practically smiling at the way he'd just made love to me. The things he'd said, the promising he'd made. It's naive to think it's real but I can feel it in my heart it is. He loves me, genuinely regardless of his wife. That's why I gave him my virginity, that's why I let him be my first. The pain between my thighs an aching reminder of the love we share.

My hand rubbed on the other side of my bed, searching, feeling for him and his body. Only to be met with the coldness of the sheets, alerting me that he didn't just leave, he's been gone for a while now. I sit up so fast my entire body feels it. I rub my head while looking around the dark room. He couldn't even wait till the sun rose before taking off. "No...no no." I mutter to myself grabbing my cover I wrap it around my naked body. Rushing out towards the living room. I search for any sign that he's still here, shoes at the door, a coat left behind, a phone or a charger, but nothing was there. It was as if I was here alone this entire time.

I could feel the tears welding up in my eyes, my mind knowing the truth before my heart could feel it.

He'd taken my virginity and left.

I walk over to my phone numbly. Picking it up off my bedside dresser I turn it on seeing a notification from him. One that says I had to go, I'll see you again. Thank you. The thank you made me feel sick to my stomach. So sick that I cover my mouth. Imagining him going home to his wife, giving her the same sex he'd just given me.

I rush over to the bathroom attached to my room dropping to the floor I throw up everything in my stomach inside of the toilet. As I puke I can still feel the aching between my legs only it's not a reminder of pleasure. It's a reminder that I'd given something that was supposed to be precious to another woman's husband. I jerk forward again

Throwing up inside of the toilet gagging as the article fills my mind. It's crazy how you feel worse about things when someone is dead. Days ago I hated Emma, wished the worst on her, but now? Now I feel sick. Sick in knowing that I contributed to her pain during her short time spent on this Earth.

I'd be lying if I said seeing that article didn't keep me up the rest of the night. I quickly pretended I was fine, said I was tired, excused myself and went to "sleep" in one of the guest rooms.

Only to be up all night reading article after article, bouncing from twitter, to the news, to Google, to Instagram, to just about any and every media to see if one of them were wrong but all of them managed to say the same thing.

That Emma had died.

Pronounced dead around the time I was shopping inside the mall.

I cried, I cried for her, for their child, for the fact that it's my fault. It had taken just about every fiber in my body to stop me from picking up my phone and calling Jaziel. I know I should, I know I owe him that. But I can't. What would I say? I can't think of any words that could help, that would change anything, I wish I could come up with something. So far her murderer has not been caught, and the news is saying they're unsure who assassinated her. But what they do know is it's obvious they was an attack set out for the Senator. All twenty of his security killed, only one survived along with Jaziel. The same night those men came after us was also the same night they barged into Jaziel's home. That means they're getting closer, finding those closest to me.