Against All Odds Pt. 04 - Sex Stories

Against All Odds Pt. 04

... Gets Deep

When I got the Loft, I cleaned up and was obsessive about it. I could do nothing to reduce Dave's love of clutter, but I could make sure every inch was clean, polished, and disinfected. I knew inside I was cleaning a crime scene. It was of my making, and it made me very sad. I cried as I dusted, scrubbed, organized, and fretted over tiny details.

I was frozen when I found the dirty coke mirror. I stared at it. Seeing my reflection behind the residue of the drugs I was so in love with. This metaphor was stark. My reflection was obscured by drugs. Using had blurred who I was. In a flash, I cleaned that mirror. I doused it with disinfectant, then Windex, followed by a polishing cloth. I never looked at it while doing this, but I timidly peered into the new reflection once it was clean.

What I saw was a very sad, broken young girl, scared and alone.

I had done terrible things. I had betrayed a man that really did love me. I had betrayed myself at the same time. I knew what we had was special, but at that moment, I understood we were both damaged. We had enabled each other, but none of that excused the betrayal. As I stared at my reflection, the little girl looked back, and with no words spoken, she said,none of this was you. You must find your true self. We need you. Talk about epiphanies.

I put the mirror away. I realized by looking into it had also killed any desire I had to get high. I got a text from Dave. He was on his way. Instantly nervous, I ...

... finished cleaning, put on coffee, sat on the couch, and then over the table. I stood, paced back to the sofa, and finally sat at the table. There was no comfortable spot. I waited until I heard the key loudly open the lock to the blue steel door.Courage and honesty, I said to myself.

Showdown at the Loft

I walked into the living room, reminding myself to breathe. Melissa was sitting at the dining room table. No makeup, hair in a ponytail, small white t-shirt, and jeans. Her brown eyes were puppy dog sad; she was so beautiful, my heart skipped a beat and almost stopped. Deep breath. Pursed lips.

"Hey" was all I said. Melissa smiled back at me.

I had a cooler with some fresh fish from the morning catch. I walked to the kitchen and asked her if she was hungry.

"Whatcha got?"

I told her I had fresh Walleye. She didn't ask where I got it. She nodded. I put my bag in the bedroom, then did my thing in the kitchen. It would be a simple fish fry. Cooking for people was my love talk. I had learned this from my mother, and food was special for me. This was the perfect indirect action for both of us. The very ritual made us less nervous.

We had some small talk. I told Melissa I returned to the resort and fished the entire lake. I told her the hostess asked about where she was. Her eyes welled with tears, but she kept it together. She told me she was with her parents. The whole ritual was strained civility.

We sat and ate the fish I had cut into nuggets, flour dusted ...