Evan

 

 

 

 

Another day waking up in a hotel with a different woman beside me. Another woman I didn't even ask the name of. I rarely do.

I look over my shoulder. She's facing away from me. I climb out of bed, I need to get the hell out of here.

She stirs and rolls onto her back. She's pretty. Delicious caramel colored skin, soft and silky. I ran my tongue over every inch of her last night, that I do remember. Her crazy tight curls are covering most of the pillow beneath her. I had my fingers in that hair, pulled it, made her scream and I fucked her with abandon from behind. I fucked her against the wall, in the shower, on the rug by the fire. Hell, I haven't fucked a woman more than twice a night since Krystal.

Krystal, so different from the woman in my bed. Krystal was adventurous like a lot of women. But not a lot of women would allow a man to insert sex toys into her body, diamond tipped butt plugs, jiggle balls, remote controlled clitoral stimulators all at the same time while sitting perfectly still at the opera while I play master with the controls of her pleasure.

My god, that girl drove me insane. There was nothing she wouldn't let me do to that beautiful body of hers. There was no place she wouldn't let me take her, no risk she wouldn't take just to have me make her come. We were two halves of the same coin she and I.

Why did I do it?

Why did I walk away from her when she needed me the most?

And why in god's name have I been screwing half the city for the past three months just to try and forget her when all I had to do was go home and tell her how sorry I was?

I scrub my hands over my face, trying to scrub away the image of her smiling face as she touches my cheek. Seeing her there in my bed, naked as I lean over her and tell her for the first time how much I love her. My god and I did love her... Do love her.

But I know what I did to her was despicable. She'd never take me back now. I've let things go on for too long for her to even give me five minutes of her time to explain why I left.

How would I even do that anyway when I don't have a clue why I left other than fear, grief?

Jealousy that my older brother got to comfort his wife, stroking her stomach as she cried for what Krystal and I had lost?

How was it fair that he got to keep his baby?

How was it fair that I lost mine and there was not a damn thing I could do to stop it?

I pull on my clothes as quickly as I can. I seem to have perfected the art form of rushing to get dressed and making a dash for it over the past three months without waking whichever woman I fucked the night before.

I tip my head at the doorman as I exit the hotel. He knows me well, I use the same hotel room at least four times a week. If I'm not here, I'm at whichever woman I'm fucking's place. I never take them back to mine. Jerry, the doorman of the hotel knows to be discreet. I pay the man enough to be.

Red hair. I see pale red almost golden hair as I walk out of the hotel. Krystal's hair is pale red. So pale it looks as though she has blonde highlights rushing through it. Yet it's all natural. I've never seen a woman with such an amazing color to her hair.

Wave's rushing through it. I see waves of curls rushing through her hair. I used to love to wrap those waves around my fingers gently as she lay sleeping in my arms. Her hair was always so soft it bewitched me.

“Krystal!” I yell her name yet she doesn't stop walking. It's as if she can't hear me.

I don't know why I'm chasing after her, I don't even know what to say. But I do know that I need to see her face. I need to look into her eyes and see if there's any hope at all that I can put things right. I don't want to keep living my life this way. I know I messed up. Quite badly, in fact. But I know that I love her and I want to make things right.

“Krystal,” I grab her arm and she swings around to face me, she's confused and so am I. The woman before me isn't Krystal, she doesn't even have red hair, hers is brown. “I'm so sorry, I thought you were someone else.”

She smiles slightly and walks away.

I'm losing it. I'm seriously losing it.

Now I'm imagining seeing her?

What the fuck is that all about?

 

 

* * *

 

 

“What would you like to talk about today, Evan?” Dr. Valarie Goodman, my therapist asks.

How long have I been in therapy?

About a month.

Why am I seeing her?

Because I needed someone to help me sort out these thoughts in my head. So many thoughts I can't shut them up.

A friend put me in touch with Dr. Goodman. I was a little worried I'd try and sleep with her, but there is literally no sexual attraction there at all. Don't get me wrong, she's beautiful. Her dark hair and dark skin, and those huge hazel eyes of hers, that tight body and big butt would normally have me salivating. But from the moment I saw her, I knew she'd be the one to listen to my thoughts, to help me sort them out, to help me sort me out.

I like that she just listens, offers a little advice, but doesn't force her opinions on me. Although, I do believe she's just sizing me up before she strikes. That and she's totally honest with me, she doesn't pussyfoot around to spare my feelings like most people in my life, aside from Krystal.

God, Krystal.

“I thought I saw her today.”

“Krystal?” I nod. “How did that go?”

“I chased her. Turns out it wasn't her and I was seeing things. I thought I was going crazy.”

“That's why you're here right now, you think you're going crazy?”

“Sounds stupid, I know.”

“Not at all, Evan.” She crosses one leg over the other, the leg of her slacks riding up at the ankle. She has slim ankles that lead up to luscious... Shut the fuck up, Evan! Jesus, you're here to sort your fucked-up head out, not visualize your therapist as anything but that!

Right.

Yes.

Concentrate.

“I think you carry a lot of guilt inside of you.”

“Guilt?” I scrunch my eyes a little. Why would I feel guilty about anything?

“Yes, guilt. Guilt over the loss of your child, over not being there for Krystal when she needed you, for having all of these meaningless sexual relationships with women you have no intentions of seeing once the act is over. And I think you feel guilt over the pain it causes Krystal to know that she was never enough for you.”

“She was enough for me!” Of course, she was enough. “She was always enough for me.”

“Then why leave, Evan? What was so bad that you had to leave her when she needed you?”

“I don't want to talk about this!” I snap and get out of my seat.

What the fuck is this going to achieve?

I rake my hand through my hair while rubbing the scruff on my cheek with the other.

“We don't have to talk about anything you're not comfortable with, Evan. But I feel by getting this out, recognizing why you did it, admitting it, if you will, the guilt you feel will ease. It's very easy for people to place the blame squarely at your feet. But has anyone ever asked you how you were feeling at the time?”

Have they?

In all honesty, I don't really remember.

“No,” I sink into the leather chair and scrub my hands over my face. God, I should have showered before I came here, I can still smell the woman from last night all over me. God knows what Valarie thinks of me. “I don't remember anyone asking me how I felt. But then I didn't wait around long enough, did I?

“You know I wish more than anything that I'd stayed. I don't know, held her more, told her it wasn't her fault.” I swipe at the stupid tear about to fall from my eye. Dammit, men aren't supposed to cry! We're supposed to the strong ones, right?

“It's not too late to let her know that, Evan.”

“I'm scared that she won't listen to me.”

“She'd have every right not to, wouldn't you say?”

I nod.

Of course, Krystal would have that right. It's not like I've even tried to contact her more than once or twice since I left. Not even to just check she was okay after the miscarriage. How fucking sick is that? I didn't even ask the woman I still love how she was feeling after she lost our baby, I just walked away from her like she was nothing.

“I'm going to give you some homework for today and I want you to bring it to our next session.”

“Homework?” How old am I, ten?

You act like it ninety-nine percent of the time.

“Yes. I want you to write down five things you like about yourself and five you don't like and wish to change.”

“Really?” I don't see how this is going to help me any.

“Yes, really. I also want you to write down three reasons you think your brother is better than you.” What the fuck? “Over the three sessions we've had this week,” Yeah, I've kinda of needed her a lot this week. “You've spoken a lot about Krystal. You've also spoken a fair bit about your brother. The brother I think you believe is better than you in almost every way. Or maybe you're wondering why you lost your baby and he didn't.”

Oh, she's good. But in all honesty, I'm wondering why everything in this life is always so damn perfect for him when my life is nothing but a pile of shit!

I'm not doing her stupid little homework bullshit. I'm not coming back here full stop, this is all bullshit and I don't need it.

I'll figure this shit out on my own.

I'm not paying this bitch to treat me like a school kid.

Fucking homework, how fucking stupid!

I do not believe my brother is better than me.

You're such a liar, Evan. You think he's better than you because right now, he is so much better than you, and you know it.

Fuck him!

Fuck everyone!