A Wishful Christmas [ManxMan] 🦂 UNEDITTED

Miles~05~

🌲

"Mr. Reynolds, are you okay? Mr. Reynolds."

I closed my eyes and muffled my driver's voice. I need a breath for a minute. I raised my hand to make him stop talking. My thoughts taking me far away as my breath slowed down bit by bit.

Raising my eyes, I faced my secretary. I needed this meeting to be over with right now.

"...the R project is almost finished and within two months, everything will be done sir. Congratulations on this success, Mr. Reynolds. This is real-.."

I couldn't hear the rest of what my project manager was trying to say as I look at my phone. This can't is right. No. Not my best friend.

I look at the picture again. maybe I missed something before. Or maybe in this world of editing it was edited. Maybe. Please god, let it be a maybe.

But it wasn't. There he was. My best friend. Nick. Kissing my girlfriend.

Maybe they were playing a game. A drunk game.

"Mr. Reynolds.."

I raised my gaze to meet the whole board members staring back at me.

"This meeting is over," I said. Standing up and walking off. I didn't want to know what they are saying behind me. No. Not now.

My way home was filled with pain and agony. Not my best friend. We have been friends for more than ten years. How could he do that to me?

I called his number twice but it went straight to voice mail.

Come down Miles. It is probably nothing.

My heartbeats increased when I saw nick's car parked at my house. So he is here. Then let's get it over with. But deep down, the sting feeling keeps crawling to my skin. Why? Why was this happening to me?.

Walking slowly inside the house and closed the door behind me. The first thing Innoticeddewase two plates of unfinished food on the table. Empty glasses and a bottle of wine.

Someone had dined here.

My eyes kept roaming around my house. It felt strange. Gloomy and dark. My heartbeat multiplied when I saw a shoe thrown randomly near the stair. That's nick's shoe. I know it because I bought it.

My shoulders tightened. I kept staring at the shoe, then the blouse on a third step of the stair. Gripping my car keys, I kept going up. Heading to my bedroom. Or following the thrown of clothes exactly.

I know my girlfriend very well. Nicola is spoiled and untidy. But this? This isn't one of those dress-up situations.

Gasps and moans started getting louder and louder. The more steps I take, the more moans get to my ears and I heard coming from my room. I stopped walking and held my breath. Trying to breathe slowly.

Please No. Please.

I prayed without knowing what exactly I was praying about. I mean what was I thinking. The moans were coming from my room. One way or another, people were fucking in my room.