I am his

05

As her father's presence loomed, tension filled the air, and Naomi's pain was palpable. His sudden return after fifteen long years shook the foundation of their relationship, leaving them both grappling with unresolved emotions. "Who's this, honey?" he inquired, his tone brimming with curiosity and concern.
  "You don't get to ask me who he is, Dad. You've been gone for fifteen years," she retorted, her voice tinged with hurt and frustration. It was evident that his absence had left a deep scar on her heart.
  As the silence lingered, I knew I had to speak up to protect her from further distress. "I'm her boyfriend," I interjected, eager to support Naomi in this challenging moment. Though I could sense her initial surprise, I winked at her reassuringly, eliciting a smile that spoke volumes of the trust we shared.
  The tension escalated as her father pressed for answers, questioning the nature of our relationship and whether I had spent the night. His irritation was evident, and I could see how uncomfortable Naomi felt under his scrutiny.
   I stepped away from her, retreating to eat my bacon, feeling a sense of awkwardness in the presence of this distant figure. However, I knew that Naomi's emotional turmoil was far greater, facing the unexpected return of a father who had been absent for a significant portion of her life.
   As they continued talking, I discreetly reached for my phone, seeking solace in my parents' support. I sent a quick text to my mom, finding comfort in the reassurance that my own family was just a message away during this tumultuous encounter.
   I couldn't resist stealing a glance at Naomi. Her eyes flickered to her phone as her father engaged her in conversation. My fingers trembled slightly as I composed a message and sent it her way, playfully teasing her about the unfinished business we had on that very counter, before her father had intervened.
     As I stood there, observing her stepping off the counter, she tried to conceal her smile. Our eyes met, and I couldn't help but smile back at her. Meanwhile, her dad seemed utterly clueless, unaware of the unspoken connection between us.
    Suddenly, my mom and Naomi's mom entered the room, and I felt a pang of self-consciousness. Realizing I was still shirtless, I hurriedly retreated upstairs to find some cover. I found one of Naomi's big brown hoodies and threw it on, hoping it would hide my embarrassment.
     Returning downstairs, I was met with a cacophony of raised voices. My mom wore an expression of anger, and my heart sank as I glanced at Naomi, who kept her gaze fixed on the floor, seemingly avoiding the confrontation.
     "Kaden, home now!" My mom's angry command echoed through the room. I shot a glance at Naomi once more, and with a huff, I left for our house, feeling the weight of my mom's stern gaze on my back as I walked.

Sitting on the couch in our living room, I could still hear the muffled sounds of the heated argument next door. My mom entered our house, her face still contorted with anger. I braced myself for what was to come, unsure of how to handle the situation and the emotions swirling inside me.
     "Why the hell would you do that, Kaden?" My mom sank into a chair and ran her hands through her hair.
     "Do what?" I asked, feigning innocence, though I knew exactly what she meant.
     "Don't play dumb, Kaden," she snapped with frustration.
     "What did I do?" I tried to keep up the charade.
     "You got drunk, and Naomi had to take care of you at her house. You promised you'd stop drinking like this," my mom sighed with disappointment.
     "Oh, is that it?" I let out a sigh of relief, trying to mask my true emotions.
     "Yeah, you know you can't hide things from me, Kaden," she said, her anger slightly subsiding.
     "Okay, I can't lie to you, Mom," I admitted, my guard slowly coming down.
    "Did something happen?" She looked at me with concern.
    "Um, yeah," I replied, mustering a smile.
    "Please tell me you two didn't sleep together, and if you did, please say you used protection," she pleaded, worry creasing her brow.
    "No, Mom, we didn't sleep together, not yet, and—" I began, but she cut me off, her reaction catching me off guard.
    "Not yet?" she repeated, "you're sleeping around! Kaden, I thought you were a virgin," she whispered, evidently taken aback.
    I nervously licked my lips, realizing my mom was entirely in the dark about the full extent of what had happened. "Umm, Mom, I've only done it a couple of times," I lied, feeling the weight of the lie on my shoulders.
    "Oh, okay. Are you being safe?" Her concern softened her features.
    "Yeah, I am," I replied, averting my eyes. "Can we not talk about this? I, uh, I kissed Naomi, well, we were making out, and her dad walked in," I confessed, hoping for some understanding from my mom amidst the complicated situation.
   She leaned in close, her voice a hushed secret, inquiring if we had ventured into more intimate territory. "No, Mom," I responded with a gentle smile, concealing the truth. I yearned to explore every facet of intimacy with Naomi, but I was uncertain if she felt the same way or was prepared for anything serious.
    She then whispered about confiding in Stephanie, her longtime friend, to which I hesitated, fearing it might create an awkward situation. But my mother assured me that Stephanie had been anticipating this development for years. Her words encouraged me, sparking a glimmer of hope.
    After a contemplative pause, I admitted my desire to talk to Naomi privately. My mother offered a solution - while Naomi's father wouldn't leave, she could come over to my place. This revelation emboldened me, and I retreated to my room, seizing my phone to message Naomi. I longed for her presence, yet knew she was concerned about the consequences of visiting.
    I went upstairs after my conversation with my mother and sought solace in the privacy of my room. Closing the door behind me, I shed the burdens of the day and changed into something more comfortable. Drawing near the window, I allowed the cool breeze to sweep through the room as I indulged in the ritual of lighting a cigarette. I flicked my lighter, igniting a cigarette between my lips. As the smoke curled around me, memories of that wild night with Brittany flooded my mind, my first time.
    A rush of conflicting emotions washed over me as I recalled how she led me astray with alcohol, a few drinks in, and we found ourselves tangled up in a whirlwind of desire and recklessness. I knew I should've stopped it, but she had this way of getting under my skin. Against my better judgment, I went along with it, all to please her. She was adamant that we proceed that very night, and in an attempt to please her, I acquiesced.
    But as the night unfolded, emotions erupted, and she wept. Concerned, I asked if she was alright, only to be met with her abrupt departure, leaving me in the wake of the choices we both had made. Little did I know then, that this singular night was just the beginning of a rollercoaster ride through the tangled web of love, lust, and heartache. Maybe that's why sex isn't much to me anymore. The whole concept of sex has been ruined for me.