Stretching my arm to reach for the oil on the top shelf caused me excruciating back pain. I don’t know why the hell they had to put it up so high.
I placed the oil in my cart and pressed my hand against my back while squirming. A young lady looked at me, her expression was a mixture of confusion and sorrow. These young people are so damn lucky.
At home, I slowly lowered myself into the wooden rocking chair that my son, Grant, had gifted to me on my birth about ten years ago, when he moved out. I still wish that he had never left, but I would’ve been selfish to ask him to stay.
He’s galavanting the world, working on this AI nonsense that he mentioned a few times. I don’t even know what that stands for, but whatever makes him happy. He calls when he gets a chance. I wish it were more frequent. I’m so proud of him. Not only is he devilishly good-looking, but he’s smart and earns a good income. I have no doubt that he’ll find a good wife.
He never told me, but I sensed that he resented me for not staying with his mother. I know that he would’ve preferred his parents to be under the same roof.
Kathy was far from perfect, but then again, I wasn’t an angel either. I tried to control my temper, but Kathy’s condescending comments made my temples pulsate until they almost popped out of my head. Her remarks belittled and disrespected me. I provided everything she desired, but it was never enough. Something always bothered her. Come to think of it, it wasn’t an object that she lacked. She resented me for feeling that she had settled.
When she was twenty-five, her parents had encouraged her to go on a date with me because she was running out of time to find a good man.
During our date, she mentioned a guy that she dated, whom she wanted to marry, but he dumped her. I knew that I would be, at the very least, her second choice if she decided to marry me. Not desiring to be in such a position, I pursued her only to get into her pants.
Living in a small town limited my options, and more than a year had passed since I had gotten laid before meeting Kathy.
We had sex several times. I figured that she kept seeing me until she found her ideal man.
Two months after we began our sexual relationship, she told me that she was pregnant. Her parents were conservative Christians who would kick her out of the house and disown her for having a child out of wedlock.
Abortion was out of the question. Neither of us could go through with it.
I was also responsible for Kathy’s pregnancy, so I felt compelled to take care of her. We moved into a small apartment, and she stayed at home while I worked on a construction site. I’d often work overtime and weekends to have extra money for emergencies. I used a portion of my savings to take Kathy out to dinner on special occasions and buy her a gift.
Her parents were angry for several years before initiating contact with her. Although her father never said it to me, I knew he appreciated my efforts to take care of his daughter. In all honesty, I didn’t have to look after her. My responsibility was towards my child. But I considered them to be a package deal, and I wanted my son to be proud of me.
By the time Grant turned three, I had completely given up on satisfying his mother because I saw that it was impossible. Regardless of how much I tried, my efforts never satisfied her. I had built up a tremendous amount of resentment towards her that I had suppressed for a long time.
The one time when I lashed out at his mother, Grant cried. I consoled him and told him that it would never happen again, at least, not in front of him.
Kathy was an ungrateful woman, and I wished that the guy she spoke about had impregnated her instead of me. Oh, how I wish that.
Reminding myself constantly that she gifted me the greatest joy of my life helped me change my mind about kicking her out of the house. But my patience wore thin over the next two years.
I decided that it was more damaging for Grant to grow up in a toxic environment than to spend time with each parent in a different household under favourable conditions. If we had stayed together, I feared that he would become accustomed to Kathy’s disparagement towards me and feel that it was acceptable behaviour that he would tolerate from his wife.
Kathy moved back in with her parents, and Grant stayed with me over the weekends. I had never been happier, focusing solely on bonding with my son without distractions.
We attended parent evenings together at school and Grant’s sporting events. Much to my delight, Kathy and I got along. On one occasion, she joined us for a Sunday lunch.
After lunch, Grant asked for my permission to go play at a friend’s house. I dropped him off and returned home.
Kathy and I sat on the couch and recalled memories of Grant growing up, completely amazed at how time flew. One drink led to another, and I crashed my lips into hers.
I couldn’t help myself. She looked sexy in her tight jeans, and her pleasant demeanour made her even more attractive. I refrained from making love to her so that we wouldn’t rekindle feelings we had for each other and focused only on having sex.
I stood up, and Kathy got on her knees in front of me. She bit her lip and looked at me like a wolf at a sheep after not eating for days. She was hungry for my cock more than she had ever been.
She ripped my zipper apart and whipped out my cock, then stuffed it into her mouth. I smiled, watching her gorge on it, her eyes closed as she enjoyed herself.
As much as I enjoyed her sucking my cock, I was eager to stick it into her wet pussy. Four months had passed since we had sex, and I wanted to bang her hard.
She bent over the table, I pulled down her g-string and stuck my dick inside her. I grabbed her forearms and pulled her arms behind her back. She tilted her face to the side, resting it on the table as I penetrated aggressively from behind.
Kathy kept telling me to keep giving it to her hard and that she missed me. I knew that she was referring to my cock. I got the impression that she, too, hadn’t gotten action since our last session.
I was more than happy to satisfy her, but I would’ve been damned if I were to listen to her crap afterwards. Our time together was purely physical, and I didn’t even want her to spend the night.
After giving it to her from behind for some time, I slowed down and pulled out my dick. Kathy flipped over onto her back and opened her legs. I grabbed her calves and pushed her legs forward.
While penetrating her, our eyes met. In that moment, she was more beautiful to me than at any other time. Maybe if she hadn’t been an ungrateful and unpleasant bitch, we could’ve been together forever. But what can you do? She chose to be that way.
I kept admiring her beauty, and my chest expanded as I breathed deeply. Being with her again sexually was incredibly satisfying, and I felt we had developed a strong connection.
My balls had never felt tighter and fuller.
Out of nowhere, I shot out the first batch and tried to refrain from shooting further. I stopped and gritted my teeth, hoping that would work. Involuntarily, I spilt the rest of the load out. It kept pouring out, and I thought it would never stop. That was amazing—by far the best sex I’ve ever had. While cumming, I thought about keeping Kathy around for a few days to try to make things work between us.
After my balls emptied, I came to my senses. There was no way in hell I would ever give her a second chance. From my dating experience, I learnt that giving women a second chance was providing them with another opportunity to hurt me. To me, it was the same as throwing out spoilt milk and then going back to it the following day to see if it was fresh.
While we got dressed, Kathy asked me if I wanted to come over for dinner. I told her that I needed to fetch Grant and then get an early night’s sleep because I had a loaded day.
The following day, she messaged me to say that she enjoyed our time together. I knew that she hinted at a reconciliation—no way in hell was that going to happen.
That weekend, I went out on a date with a single mother. Luckily for me, she wanted no-strings-attached fun. We had great sex, and I thought about it for several days after that, completely forgetting about Kathy’s intention of reuniting with me.
On Friday, she messaged me to say that she wouldn’t be at the house when I picked up Grant. I wondered if it was intentional to avoid me or if she had something to do. Probably the former. She was a vindictive and immature person who tried to get back at people in any way when she felt hurt. What a conniving bitch.
I fantasised about giving it to her anally without any lubricant as punishment for being a wicked person. It wouldn’t surprise me if she agreed to it. She was open-minded after not having sex for some time.
A few weeks later, she told me that she was seeing a guy. I didn’t believe her because I thought it was her way of trying to make me jealous. It turned out to be the truth.
I met Matt at my son’s football match. Kathy brought him with her, and my gut told me that he was untrustworthy. He seemed pleasant, but I felt that he hid his true nature.
A few weeks later, when I went to fetch Grant, Kathy opened the door, sporting a black eye. She told me that she and Matt got into a heated argument, and he became so furious that he smacked her several times. I felt bad for her, but I worried more about Grant. What if he had tried to get in Matt’s way? In such a state, Matt could’ve hurt him as well.
Oh, God. Why did I ever impregnate her? I shouldn’t say it like that because it sounds like I regret having my son. I just wish another woman, more benevolent than Kathy, had given birth to him. I couldn’t trust her to make decisions that would ensure my son’s safety.
On Sunday afternoon, I didn’t want to take Grant back to his grandparents’ place. I felt that it was only a matter of time before Kathy placed him in danger again. I couldn’t afford to risk that, and I told her that he would stay with me for the foreseeable future.
Half an hour later, she showed up on my doorstep.
I told Grant to go to his room and play music, anticipating a tongue-lashing from Kathy, which I didn’t want him to hear.
Enraged, she got up in my face, hers completely flustered and looking like a vein would pop out of her forehead.
“Keep your voice down. Grant is in his room. He doesn’t need to be punished because of our disagreement,” I said.
“Don’t you dare try to keep my son away from me.”
“He’s safer here with me.”
“Why? Because you’re Mr Perfect?”
“Well, I’m more mentally stable than Matt. That much I can tell you.”
“What does he have anything to do with my son?”
“Look at yourself. What stopped him from hurting my son?”
“I wouldn’t have let that happen.”
“Kathy, you couldn’t even stop him from hurting you.”
She kept staring at me as reality smacked her in the face. Maybe I shouldn’t have phrased it like that because of what she went through.
Although I had the moral high ground to treat her with disdain, I felt bad that she was abused. God knows that I thought about shutting her up several times with a smack, but I couldn’t raise my hand at her. Even though I felt she deserved it, it wasn’t right.
I added, hoping to make her feel better, “You’re a good mother, Kathy. I know you’ll do anything for our son, and you have his best interest at heart. But sometimes, you make bad decisions that could impact him, and I don’t want to risk his safety.”
“Fine. Then I won’t date anyone. You happy?”
“That’s a good start. I still think that he should stay with me this week. You can come over on Sunday. We’ll have lunch and talk.”
She lowered her chin and her gaze. “If you say so,” she said and then walked out.
I thought of several reasons for her consent, but they didn’t matter. All I cared about was keeping Grant safe.
That Sunday, Kathy came over for lunch. She was friendly and listened more than she spoke. I saw that she tried really hard to get along with me. Pity that she wasn’t like that when we were together. I figured she was on her best behaviour so that I would return Grant to her.
After lunch, Grant went to play in his room. I was horny, and I told Kathy that we should have sex. She agreed.
Again, the intercourse was fantastic. On a few occasions, I thought about welcoming her back into my life to continue having amazing sex, but I knew that her awful behaviour would resurface.
The orgasm I had when I ejaculated inside of her was unbelievable. It felt so good to relieve myself inside of her. Her pussy was dripping, and sweat covered her face. Usually, I would’ve gone for another round, but my balls were empty. The tip of my dick stung. I felt that it would’ve hurt more if I stuck it back inside her pussy.
After we got dressed, we went to the lounge. Grant came out of his room, and Kathy looked at me. I knew she wanted to know how I felt about her taking him home with her.
“Grant, you’re going home with Mom. I’ll fetch you next week.”
Kathy smiled and thanked me.
During the next few days, I thought about reuniting with Kathy. I knew it would’ve made Grant happy, but I feared that it would be a matter of time before we separated again. I couldn’t do that to my son again.
Making a hasty decision could be costly emotionally, and I didn’t want to put myself or Grant through that again. The best thing was for me to continue with my life and let events unfold naturally. I figured that if Kathy and I were meant to reunite, it would happen effortlessly.
Months went by, and my desire to be with diminished. I figured that was a sign we weren’t meant for each other.
I went on a few dates with single mothers that I met at Grant’s school and had sex with all of them. Getting laid without having to deal with a woman’s moods suited me perfectly.
A middle-aged lady worked part-time for me, cleaning my place, clothes and ironing. On days when I was too tired to cook, I got takeout. My life was perfect. I didn’t need to ruin it by inviting somebody who could disrupt my peace.
The years flew by.
Kathy and I attended Grant’s graduation ceremony. He graduated cum laude and second in his class. He beat himself up about not being the best graduate, but I told him that he would win in life. Grant understood what I meant.
As for his mother, she remained single throughout the years. I felt bad that she lived alone, but it was better than ending up with another loser like Matt. She came to her senses and prioritised her son’s safety over foolish adventures. I was proud of her.
I treated Grant to lunch for graduating, and Kathy joined us. She spoke mostly to Grant and asked me only a few questions. I engaged her in a conversation and noticed that she was cold. Her tone and facial expression gave it away, even though she tried to hide it. I sensed that she was angry with me, probably for not getting back with her.
The following month, Grant told me that he wanted to travel the world. Although he was an adult, I still feared for his safety. But I no longer made decisions for him. Whatever he pursued, I just wanted him to be happy.
A week went by after he left, and he hadn’t called. I called him, and he didn’t answer. The following day, he sent me an email to tell me that he was fine. I thought it was strange that he didn’t call back.
I called Kathy and asked her if she had spoken to him. My heart stung when she said, “Yes.” I knew that he held a grudge against me, but I wasn’t certain of the reason.
My birthday was three weeks later. Grant called to congratulate me. I didn’t want to ruin the mood by creating tension, but I had to ask him why this was the first call since he left.
“I’ve been busy, Dad.”
I knew not to believe that. “Come on, Grant. I taught you to be a straight shooter. Give it to your old man the way it is.”
“Dad, let’s not discuss this now.”
“No, no, no. Whatever it is, get it off your chest.”
Grant sighed and then remained silent for a few seconds before saying, “It’s how you treated Mom.”
I waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. “What exactly are you referring to?”
“Come on, you know.”
“No, I really don’t.”
“Mom told me that you withheld cash from her when she made you mad, and she couldn’t buy personal care products or go out with her friends. She said that you barely ever bought her a gift and that you belittled her all the time, calling her useless and a good-for-nothing. When she refused to cook for you and please you the way you wanted, you kicked her out of the house. How could you do that to my Mom? She gave birth to me.”
I knew that Kathy was a conniving bitch. I just didn’t know to what extent. She completely fabricated stories to poison my son against me. And to think that I almost let her back into my life.
While listening to Grant, I thought about going over to Kathy’s place and strangling her. I understood why Matt eventually lost his cool and smacked her around. I don’t agree with his actions, but to an extent, I can understand them.
“Son, that’s not true. Your mother and I didn’t get along for several reasons, but I never punished her in any way. If anything, I tried to be as accommodating to her for your sake. I wanted you to have both of your parents together. Eventually, when I saw that us being together was more harmful to you, I decided it was best that we part ways. Son, your mother isn’t perfect and neither am I. But I never once bad-mouthed your mother to you or anyone else. I respected her for giving birth to the most amazing person in the world.”
Grant remained silent. I knew that he had a few things to think about, and I didn’t want to overload him with information. He was bright, and I believed that he would reach the correct conclusion. At first, he might be confused because he didn’t want to doubt his mother. Eventually, he would put the pieces together.
After we ended the conversation, I wondered if I would hear from Grant again. Even if he believed me, he could decide to avoid both of his parents, or, at the very least, me. I couldn’t live knowing that my son detested me, especially for something I didn’t do.
The week after our conversation, I thought about calling him to see how he felt. But I figured that he needed more time to process all the information to unjumble his feelings.
I thought about calling Kathy to give her a piece of my mind for attempting to turn my son against me. I decided it was best not to confront her about it because she could make matters worse between Grant and me. For the sake of my relationship with my son, I had to take every blow she dealt on the chin.
I called Grant two weeks later, and he didn’t answer. He sent me a text two days later to tell me that he was busy and would call when he got a chance. Apparently, he never got a chance to call, so I called him again.
He answered, but we spoke for only a few minutes.
We kept in touch throughout the next few years, usually me calling him several times before reaching him. Of all the pain that I suffered, my son’s indignation towards me was the most severe. I knew that Kathy was largely to blame for it, but I didn’t dare retaliate. That would drive a further wedge between Grant and me, and I never wanted him to be the victim of my fights with Kathy.
As the years flew by, my communication with Grant dwindled. I would sometimes call him several times a month and get no response. That broke my heart. I was fine with the whole world hating me as long as my son loved me.
My health deteriorated significantly in my sixties. First, I had excruciating back pain, even while sitting. Then, my legs gave out and my arms stiffened. When I recovered, I visited the doctor. He couldn’t pinpoint the diagnosis and said that old age had caught up to me.
While sitting in my rocking chair and recollecting my entire life, I thought about parting with Kathy, speaking to my son telephonically only a few times a year and feeling empty for most of the month.
I realised that, subconsciously, the toll of being lonely throughout my life had bogged me down. It was the gradual addition of torment to my mind throughout the years that had worn me out. Strangely enough, it happened at such a slow pace that I hadn’t even noticed the damage it had caused me.
The pain attacked my mind, eventually spreading throughout the rest of my body.
On a Sunday afternoon, while sitting in my chair and watching TV, I tried to get up. My body was completely stiff, and I couldn’t even turn my head. I thought that the stiffness would subside, but it gripped me entirely for hours.
My entire body ached. I called for help, but my frail voice failed to reach my neighbour’s ears. I wished that I could’ve contacted Grant to tell him that I loved him and apologise for causing him pain. I looked at his photo on the cabinet, and tears slid out of my eyes.
I must’ve suffered in the chair for about two days before I closed my eyes forever.