Tears sprang to her eyes and cascaded down her cheeks. “I had no idea.”
He rounded the counter and pulled her into his arms. “Julia didn’t deserve this kind of loyalty, and I see in your eyes that you feel like you shouldn’t love Henry. You’re wrong. This is not your fault.”
The whiskey wasn’t helping his pain in any way. Henry took another swallow of the dark amber liquid, wishing for something to stop the pain rushing through him. Seconds after he promised himself that he wouldn’t tell her the truth of what happened, he’d already spilled the truth to her. Pressing the glass to his forehead he stared in front of him at the television screen. The movie playing was steaming up, but he wasn’t interested in seeing a couple with no emotional attachments getting it on.
He’d long grown out of watching porn. Henry liked the real deal, and seeing people on screen pretending did nothing for him. Getting to his feet, he threw the remote on the table not caring as the batteries spilled out of the back of the device.
Rubbing his temples, he started walking toward the kitchen. The headache throbbed making it hard for him to focus. He opened the cupboard where he kept the first aid kit, and he swallowed down two pills and poured the alcohol down the sink. He didn’t want to die and probably shouldn’t have taken the pills.
Henry filled his glass up with water then padded his way to his bedroom. On the bed lay the photo album Julia created that he hadn’t thrown away. Inside Julia’s smile stared back at him.
“Why did you do it?” he asked.
When she’d seen the picture in his wallet, he hadn’t felt guilty. In fact, he felt relieved that she finally knew about his true feelings. Then April entered their home, and the guilt turned to fear. He couldn’t tell her not to go shopping with her friend. If only he’d opened his mouth and told April to go home while he dealt with Julia maybe none of this would have happened. Julia tried to murder her friend!
What were her thoughts when she swerved off the side of the road heading for the tree? None of his questions would get answered.
“I’d never love you, Julia. I cared about you, but I couldn’t love you. If you killed April, I’d have hated you and done everything in my power to make your life hell.” He knelt on the floor beside the bed, wishing something would clear his mind.
For months he’d tried to think of ways of getting out of his relationship with Julia that kept him close to April. Nothing worked, so he’d continued a relationship, having sex with a woman while imagining another woman underneath him.
Running fingers through his hair he let out a breath.
“What the hell am I going to do?”
Again, Julia smiled back at him. He slammed the photo album closed and shoved it away from him. The book offended him, and seeing Julia’s smiling face angered him.
He collapsed on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. April’s scent surrounded him, and he closed his eyes remembering the feel of her.
Reaching for the pillow she slept on, he buried his head against the soft material. He’d made love to her throughout the night, never able to take his hands off her. Even with his need to possess her, she still pulled out of his arms without him realizing it. He always did sleep heavily.
Closing his eyes, he remembered the sweet sigh on her lips as he licked her pussy. The way she tightened around his cock as he slammed in deep making them both crave for more. He’d taken her three times that night without wearing a condom. The chance of her getting pregnant was high, yet there was no chance of getting her pregnant.
The very thought filled him with regret. April would look amazing swollen with his child.
Henry closed his eyes wishing for something to finally go right in his life when it came to his woman.
Sleep claimed him, and the following morning he woke up with the worst kind of headache. He took another couple of pills and made his way out of his apartment toward April’s. Henry needed to see her.
On the way toward her place he stopped by the graveyard to see Julia’s resting place. Sitting on the bench like April had done the day before, he stared at the stone, feeling the guilt start to claw its way back inside him.
Rubbing at his eyes, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
“Everything always seems worse than it is,” an elderly woman said, taking a seat beside him.
He looked up as she took a seat next to her. She lowered herself beside him and rested the trolley style bag beside her. “My Bertie is resting over there. I’ve seen you and your lady friend coming here often to see this girl. She must have been a special kind of girl to have a constant visit.”