Chapter Twenty-One

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Lingering, bottled-up anger never reveals the 'true colors' of an individual. It, on the contrary, becomes all mixed up, rotten, confused, forms a highly combustible, chemical compound then explodes as something foreign, something very different than one's natural self.
― Criss Jami

Neil Harris

The droplets of water was as cold as the weather demanded. Lately, there had been many cold showers for me. It was physically taking a toll to be celibate when you had a wife at home.

Who would have thought? A scoundrel like me would be constantly taking cold showers rather than getting late. Never thought there would be a side-effect like this from having a woman living with me. It had got to that point that I only crave her, and there were no other women who would excite me anymore except her. She seriously hampered the way I lived. 

However, it was one thing to be sex-deprived, and another thing to be dealing with horrifying nightmares. After mom and dad died, Kate and I both suffered mentally. It would be wrong to say I was the one wrecked emotionally only. Although I cannot stand that Kate was not feeling as guilty as I was, I could not deny her agony. At first, it was just insomnia, but as the months went, you could not unsee what we were not suppose to see. 

I combed my hair and upturned my face, letting the water wash away the terror of the night.

That bitch Nicole.

She brought on the memories of Kate and my parents. Often, that led to the dreadful memories of the dark night. Throughout the night, I was tormented with the images of the crash, smoke, rain, and heard the wails of my sister as I sat before the ruined bodies of my parents. Nobody could expect a child forget those images until the day he was dead himself. Although, things were better since the day I started taking actions for their death, and even more since Ashley moved in with me, I did not envision the familiar feelings of horror and guilt.

I had been tempted to leave the foreboding solitude in the dark and bask in the presence of my light in the next room.

Nevertheless, I had the willpower to stop. I thought back to my moments with her and I was content with the remedy of that needy kiss I laid upon her last night at the dining table. I accepted that she was definitely the light to chase away my terrors. It was shocking how I could forget everything when I was touching and tasting her sweet body. She was my very own drug and I felt the need of that dose again, but she was busy crying with her sisters. 

I shut off the shower-head and grabbed a towel. Slowly, I started dressing, hoping the reunion of the sisters had been well underway and over by the time I reached downstairs, but whenever did fate favour me?

The sight stumbled me and I almost lost a step. The scene was too soon and nostalgic for my already tormented mind. It was a scene straight out of a sentimental family drama. Both of the little sisters resembled her so much that it frightened me a little bit. It looked like my wife went and had two children of her own, but she looked way too young to have a sixteen year old.

The way the oldest sister aka my wife was comforting her younger sisters reminded me of the times Kate embraced me when I refused to go back to boarding school after the holidays, but Dad always managed to drag me away from her. My chest felt heavy as the emotions became suffocating. For a minute, I was envious of the little blondies fortunate enough to have her affections, but I still refused to drag them away from the comfort of her presence.

I was not like my Dad nor was I like theirs.

The amount of time I had been cooking in this kitchen increased tremendously after Ashley started living with me. I was so grateful for all the cooking lessons from Kate or else, we would've starved to death. Once again, I stopped dead as an image of her appeared in my head; she was in her yellow apron, smacking me in the head with a wooden spoon when I tried to stick my finger in the sauce she was making.

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