Sidelined: a Wilde Players Dirty Romance
“Drew, at twenty-nine, has passed on. And it’s so unfucking fair. I stare, longing for a state of numbness, only to be denied. I feel far too much as the fist-sized organ in my chest continues to beat, ridiculing me that his doesn’t. It isn’t right and it’s killing me … slowly.
The beautiful woman who clings to me as if I could anchor her doesn’t belong to me. Cate belongs to Drew in the way poets write in sonnets. They belong together, as immortalized in every chick flick ever made.
For him, I do my damn best to hold his widow steady. Widow. Shit.
She needs a rock, not the pussy who’s lost everything that matters outside of his family. So I mask the emptiness that covers me like a blanket with a pair of useless sunglasses. They hide my red-rimmed eyes as the memories of his last few good days spent hanging at his house burn the backs of my eyelids.
Cate fairs little better as fat tears spill down her cheeks reminding me how life will never be the same. Who will put up with my shit or ...call me out on it when I need it?MoreLess
The beautiful woman who clings to me as if I could anchor her doesn’t belong to me. Cate belongs to Drew in the way poets write in sonnets. They belong together, as immortalized in every chick flick ever made.
For him, I do my damn best to hold his widow steady. Widow. Shit.
She needs a rock, not the pussy who’s lost everything that matters outside of his family. So I mask the emptiness that covers me like a blanket with a pair of useless sunglasses. They hide my red-rimmed eyes as the memories of his last few good days spent hanging at his house burn the backs of my eyelids.
Cate fairs little better as fat tears spill down her cheeks reminding me how life will never be the same. Who will put up with my shit or ...call me out on it when I need it?MoreLess
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