love heart attack

The Home coming

The drive was quite long, but it seemed very brief. There was just so much to talk about and a lot to catch up on. We talked about old times, and I filled them in on my adventures in the States, well some of them. But as the conversation flowed, I felt like there were inconsistencies in their stories. Little things that didn't add up or make sense at all.

It wasn't until the morning after that the truth hit me like a ton of bricks, rendering me motionless and paralyzed. My head started racing, trying to make sense of everything that had happened.

The night before had been magical. We had left the airport headed to my father's estate but ended up at Mk's, all three of us too drunk to care and barely walking or standing, kimberly and I were burning with passion and struggling to keep our hands off each other to a point that we started losing our pants before we had even stumbled past the kitchen. Kimmy led me to the shower as soon as we got upstairs, and we stood still and silent under the spraying waters, with only kisses and moans to be heard.

We washed and massaged each other for a while. She went down on her knees and took me all in her mouth. Towering over her, I felt like a lord and With my hand on her chin I commanded her to her feet, pressed her against the wall. She lifted her other leg to properly welcome me into her bosom as I slid inside and remained still while we locked eyes.

When I started moving slowly in a thrusting motion, the tiny space and slippery floor quickly threatened to betray us badly so we reluctantly broke apart and hurried to the bed, dripping wet with water and fluids. I laid on her while she wrapped herself around me and In the rhythm of thrusting and the sounds of moaning, I heard an angelic voice say "welcome home daddy", my soul said yes, and I felt I was home.

In the morning I sneaked out of bed earlier so i can surprise her with breakfast in bed, something I had always done for her before going to America and was determined to pick up right where I had left off.

I was feeling drained from all the lovemaking and had a hangover-sponsored headache, but it didn't matter. Nothing was going to stop me from pleasing my woman. So I got off the bed and went to the closet, got some shorts and pajamas, and went straight downstairs.

It was only when I got to the kitchen that I realized we had spent the night at Mk's place, then it hit me that the closet I had just taken my pants from wasn't mine. Which wasn't a problem, because I knew Mk wouldn't mind. But then I remembered that I had seen Ilona's clothes there as well while I was getting dressed, well, some of her clothes. I was sure they were hers because I had bought them myself and sent them to her as a gift while I was still in the USA.

What were they doing in Mk's bedroom? How did they get there? So many brain-numbing questions started to flood my head that I quickly ran back upstairs to get a closer look. When I did, behold, it was really her pants, the last gift I had gifted her three months before my final return back home and the presence of her Britney spears midnight cologne in those clothes betrayed any speck of doubt that might have wanted to lurk somewhere around in the back of my mind

I was confused, frustrated and enraged but still hopeful that it' was not what I was already convincing myself it was, however despite that positive note, just the whole saga thing sort of spoiled my mood so badly that I didn't even have the energy to continue making breakfast. I went back to bed.

When Ilona asked what had happened with her breakfast, because she knew I was in the kitchen labouring for her pleasure – I always did – I told her I had a change of mind while in the kitchen and had decided that we'd try a restaurant around the block ,she bought the excuse.

initially I had planned to confront her, well, not exactly confront, per se, but rather ask her about my findings that morning a bit later, thinking about it siphoned my patience away. The question just eluded me.

"I like what Mk has done with the interior of this insuit; very classy," I said gently, genuinely admiring the designs. "For a while, the alcohol in my head made me believe it was mine. Did you help him with it?"

Ilona smiled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "What! No, I haven't seen that guy in exactly three years since you left" she said, her voice dripping with innocence.

I looked at her, my eyes narrowing slightly. "but You two seem to have gotten close while I was away," I said, my tone neutral.

Ilona smiled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "What! No, I haven't seen that guy in about exactly three years since you left," she said, her voice dripping with innocence.

I looked at her, my eyes narrowing slightly. "But You two seem to have gotten close while I was away," I said, my tone neutral.

Ilona's smile faltered for a moment, and she looked away, her eyes avoiding mine. "Not really, you know," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "We just hung out a few times after you left, and that was it."

I felt like I'd been punched in the gut the air sucked out of me, and I couldn't breathe. It was as if I'd been living in a dream, and suddenly, I was awake, facing the harsh reality.

Ilona's words cut deep, but it wasn't the lie that killed me. Seeing her say it with a straight face, without even flinching, was what destroyed me.

I felt a chill run down my spine, and my heart turned to ice. I was numb, frozen and in shock. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Ilona, the girl I loved, the girl I trusted, was lying to me. And not just lying, but doing it with such ease, such conviction.

I looked at her, really looked at her, and for the first time, I saw her for what she truly was. A stranger. A person I didn't know.

The realization hit me like a ton of bricks, and I felt like I was drowning in a sea of despair.

And it was in that point of despair that my mind took me down memory lane. I remembered the strange body language of both Mk and Ilona from the very moment of my arrival. I remembered how they had seemed to be at odds with each other, how they had disagreed on almost everything.

I remembered how they had only finally agreed with each other when they opposed my idea of not going straight home first. I had reasoned that it had been a while since we had had time together, and I had been long absent from the inner city life, and I was especially missing the club vibes.

They had both piled up excuses against the idea, but I had stood my ground until they had no choice but to agree.

I remembered how in all the clubs we went to they had been addressed or treated like one of the regular couples by everyone who seemed to know us. I remembered how they were sort of looking at each other when we were finally drunk and ready to go home.

I remembered how Ilona had directly instructed Mk not to take any girl home with us when we left, which was quite strange but had caused me no thought then.

I also remembered Ilona had made efforts not to be as loud as I knew her to be whenever we made love.

All the random memories came together and painted a vivid picture of an image that kept playing on repeat in my head.

I was about to directly accuse Ilona of treason and slap her with all the evidence that was still playing in my head and watch her succumb to shame and surrender with a confession.

At which point, I would pretend to forgive, only to play her the way she was trying to play me

But just as I was about to unleash my fury, Mk walked in, a smug look on his face, oblivious to the storm brewing inside me.