Not only do I have a sweet treat to deliver to my love, but some sweet news, too. But how will Brandon take it? Nervous anticipation makes my heart thump.
When I park in the driveway and walk up to Brandon’s front door, it’s unlocked, confirming that he’s home from work. I silently let myself in, hoping to surprise him both with my presence and the banana bread. I feel like I should win Girlfriend of the Year and try not to giggle at myself, and then a moment later, try not to burst into tears. So many emotions are rushing through me that they’re honestly really difficult to process all at once.
When I peer into the kitchen, Brandon’s not there, so I put the Tupperware on the counter. Then, I fluff my hair with my fingers and turn so that I can search the house for him. I made sure to change into an extra-cute outfit and dabbed some perfume on my neck, just in case my boyfriend wants to really celebrate our big news.
Suddenly, I hear something I’ve definitely heard in this house before.
A woman moaning.
I freeze as if my blood has turned to ice. This isn’t happening, I think to myself, so calm that I know I’ve gone into shock. It can’t be. Brandon would never do this to me. He promised that he wouldn’t use escorts anymore. He promised.
But the feminine moaning continues, emanating from upstairs.
My legs feel like they’re made of lead, but I force them into movement, anyway. Slowly, as if in a dream, I make my way out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Maybe it’s Jasper, I try to tell myself. But as I reach the top of the stairs, I know with bone-chilling certainty that the moaning is coming from the master suite. From Brandon’s room.
Men are dogs, Sarah’s voice whispers in my head. Old habits die hard. Her words echo cruelly as I tiptoe towards Brandon’s door. Maybe I should have listened to my friend. But I had so much hope for our future together. I had so much hope that after Jasper’s betrayal, I’d found a man who would never hurt me.
Apparently, I was wrong.
I’m poised outside the master suite, my hand on the knob, but I can’t make myself open it. I’m not ready to see Brandon with another escort. I’m not ready for the pain that will inevitably crush me into smithereens.
But when I hear him moan “Lucy, Lucy!” as he fucks this other woman, my hand turns the knob almost of its own volition, and I fling open the door.
But it’s not Brandon.
It’s Jasper.
Wait, what is he doing home? And why is he using the master suite? Then, my jaw falls to the floor because the woman he’s with must be at least fifty years old with saggy breasts and a wrinkled bottom, but Jasper is pulling her dark hair and fucking her with unmistakable gusto. As he thrusts into her, he once again calls, “Lucy!” and the woman groans lewdly in response.
I can’t help it. I scream, even as relief rushes through my veins.
8
Brandon
It’s not typical of me to work late because I have a great staff and at this point in my career, I’ve delegated a lot to my subordinates. But people are people and everyone makes mistakes. Occasionally, Walsh Properties will have an emergency that requires my input, or I’ll have to talk to someone about being more detail-oriented and fastidious. Today, it was the latter, which puts me in a bad mood.
I grumble to myself as I leave the office and head home. Work was heinous today, but that will pass. Honestly, my job is more or less okay all the time, and I’m more worried about my son these days. Jasper’s been acting increasingly irrational, like making biting comments and then breaking down in tears in the privacy of his room. I know how tough it is to be a teenager, but he seems to be dealing with some additional struggles lately. Is it Celine? Did things not work out with the French transfer student? I sigh. God knows I’ll have to have a man-to-man with him soon.
When I arrive home, I smile when I see Lucy’s car in the driveway. Thank God, I think. I could really use some extra TLC this evening from my favorite woman. Maybe we can order Thai takeout, and then make love all night long. That’s exactly the kind of night I need after an exceptionally frustrating day.
“Hey Luce,” I call when I come through the front door. There’s no answer. I know that Jasper’s at some meeting at school, so it doesn’t surprise me that he’s not here. Maybe my girlfriend is upstairs and is waiting for me in the bedroom, with her pert bottom poised in the air. That would be perfect.