The Help

Chapter 11

"My heart only beats for you."

This was something that I had said to Priya about a year into our relationship. As each day went by, I had fallen more and more so pathetically in love with her.

Those words had left my mouth on a warm winters night. We were in the middle of having sex. My hands gripped her hips as I grinded my clothed crotch against hers.

She said that she didn't like the texture of us rubbing together, unclothed. So I kept my underwear on.

"I'm so in love with you." I praised her as I looked down at her, feeling hot and messy in the moment, words of pure affection falling from my tongue.

Priya threw her head back, I could practically feel her heartbeat in her groin.

"Mhm." she moaned back in response, bucking her hips further into mine.

I attempted to get her more into it, "You're so pretty, You like when I fuck you like this?"
"Yes."
"Pretty baby. My heart only beats for you."

My words encouraged the orgasm that overwhelmed her body, her legs shaking and her toes curling.

"Max, fuck!"

I cleaned her off, and we cuddled until she fell asleep in my arms. We didn't speak about what was said. I didn't ask about her lack of verbal response. Life just went on, but it didn't take away from the fact that I meant what I said to her that night.

At some point, it really felt like the only reason I had a future to look forward to was because I would get to build a beautiful life with her. I hyperfixated on many things, and my girlfriend was one of them.

So when I finally arrived at the doorstep of the Armani household, the reality of the situation kicked in. I was going to be away from home, away from my lover, for a year.

It didn't kick in when I was at the airport saying my goodbyes, or even when I was binge watching shows on the plane.

When I left the destination airport, and saw the big city that I found myself in, I felt a little queasy. The buildings were large, everybody looked so business-y and to say that I felt out of place was an understatement.

I maintained my composure, calling a cab and then, as I found myself on the Armanis property, the edible that I took in the cab kicked in.

Damn. I probably should have mentioned that I decided to eat a weed infused brownie on the way here.

My drug habits would probably be considered disgusting or annoying.
The fact that I can't even show up sober on my first day on the job, a job that I worked really hard for, should probably be a cause of concern. Or not. Who knows.

Before I could ring the doorbell, the door opened to reveal a tall man with dark features. He looked clean, he smelled really good and he had a tattoo across his wrist that read, "Proverbs 3:15".

Upon further research, the scripture read, "She is more precious than rubies: and all the things thou canst desire are not to be compared unto her."

Upon later understanding, he got the verse tattooed in honour of his wife.

The man that had answered the door was, of course, Mr.Armani.

"Hello. You must be Max, right?" He asked graciously, his white teeth showing as he smiled.
"That's correct." I spoke.
"My name is Luther Armani. For formalities sake, you may call me Mr.Armani."
I responded, "Okay. I'm pleased to meet you, Mr.Armani."

Mr.Armani stepped aside for me to come inside.

I would be lying if I said he wasn't charismatic, yet intimidating. I picked up my bags and walked inside the house with him.