How Trouble Brews
1421 Words
Everett
The sound of someone pounding on my door is what wakes me. I crack an eye open and look around as my vision clears.
What the f**k is going on?
"Everett!" I suddenly hear my mother whisper harshly. "Everett, wake up! I have to talk to you!"
I sit up in bed and only have time to rub my eyes before standing up and looking for some damn pants. I kick them on while heading toward the door, then open it.
My mother barely looks at me before she barges into the room. I start to ask, "What's going—"
"Close the door!"
I do as she says, arching a brow. Being Hannah Stormbourne's son means that I'm used to this kind of behavior from her, considering she's been this way my whole life. My mother is the most dramatic human being I've ever come across. Folding my arms, I ask her, "What is it, Mom?"
"I heard something last night," she begins, pressing her hands together. "Oh, son, I know I shouldn't have, but I couldn't help myself!"
"What's going on?" I ask, amused this time.
"Last night, I heard Ophelia and her granddaughter talking," she begins, and that immediately gets my attention, "and I heard her say that she and Rick are getting divorced!"
This bit of news makes my heart sink to the pit of my f*****g stomach. I stare back at my mother, a little wide-eyed. Did I hear this correctly? "Divorced?"
She wrings her hands together. "That's what I said. Did you know about it?"
"No."
"Rick didn't tell you?"
"No."
I don't have the heart to tell her that I haven't spoken to Rick in a little over a year. Usually, all we do is exchange emails concerning the businesses we have together, and though everything seems friendly between us, that couldn't be further from the truth.
"That's strange, don't you think?" she wonders, rubbing her wrist while staring at the wall. "They seemed so happy on their wedding day. I thought they'd be those couples that stay together forever."
I don't comment on that. Honestly, I don't know how to take that news. A few years ago, I would've had a stronger opinion about this, and maybe even a reaction.
Right now, I don't feel a thing.
Liar, the voice in my head says.
"Maybe you should call Rick," she proclaims. "That's why I came here to tell you this. He probably needs you now more than ever. Divorce is...it's a nasty business, and I wish he weren't going through this at all."
I stare at my mother intently. "You don't think that maybe she has good reasons to want a divorce? What else did you hear?"
"Nothing about her reasonings. Ophelia was advising her and all. To be fair, son, I think we should've all seen it coming. They've been married too long for there to be no children." She slaps her lips lightly like she always does after backbiting. "Oh, well. That's just my opinion. You should call Rick."
"I will," I say, knowing damn well that I never will.
Mom leaves my room and I'm alone with my thoughts for a few minutes before I decide to shower and get dressed for the day.
Is that why Addy looked so...down last night?
I shake my head as soon as this thought crosses my mind. No, there's no way in f**k that I'm going to go down that road again. I spent years trying to crawl out of the hole Rick's marriage to her put me in, and I've moved on.
I'm not that thirteen-year-old boy who fell in love with her as soon as I laid eyes on her.
I'm a man now, and things have changed. I have to be smart enough to realize that.
I get in the shower and try not to tell myself that I'm thinking about her as I stroke the length of my d**k, focusing more on the tip. But flashes of her staring at me from her bedroom window while I was pounding into someone else flood my mind, making me move my hand faster.
For a moment, just as her eyes met mine before the shock registered, I thought I saw lust in her gaze. Lust, longing, and desire—things I've never seen in her eyes before whenever I was around her in the past for a simple reason:
She never looked at me.
She only ever had eyes for Rick.
I would spend hours staring at her and registering every single thing about her. I watched her for so long that I knew if she'd smile or not whenever someone approached her, and I knew what foods she liked and what she didn't. I knew everything about Addy Bettencourt, down to the last tiny detail.
My come spurts out of my c**k, spilling over my hand. I shut my eyes as the water runs over me, cleansing me of my sins and my stupidity, first and foremost.
I have to stop.
He divorcing Rick has absolutely f*****g nothing to do with me.
I only wish the kid inside of me, the one kicking and screaming right now, understood that as well as the older, more mature Everett does.
My eyes search the dining room for her before I approach the table, and my heart jumps the way it always has when I set my eyes on her. She's seated next to her grandmother, sipping a cup of coffee. When her eyes meet mine, she looks away quickly, still embarrassed about what happened last night, I think.
I'm just guessing here. I won't pretend to know her all these years later.
"Good morning," I say to everyone seated around the table. There are a few older ladies I've never seen before around here who're probably Ophelia's friends.
I only pay attention to her response.
"Did you sleep well, Everett?" Ophelia asks me. The question catches me off guard, for some reason. I fix her with a look and say, "I did. Thank you."
"I have a favor to ask you," she begins as she spreads butter over her slice of rye bread. "Addy here needs to meet a few friends for lunch, and well, my driver has been too busy running errands. She insists that she'll call an Uber or whatever it's called—"
"Granny," Addy hisses before glancing at me, visibly embarrassed.
"—so I'm wondering if you can give her a ride there. You know the city better than everyone else, after all."
"Of course," I say stiffly. "It would be a pleasure."
Addy's eyes meet mine across the table. She looks clearly flustered and embarrassed. I suddenly remember how she reacted when Antoine told her that Rick was on the phone. I didn't make much of it, and I have to admit that my nonsensical, out-of-place jealousy made me walk away from her as quickly as possible.
But she tensed up.
I'm sure of it.
What did Rick f*****g do?
I'm almost tempted to call him and find out for myself, but that would be way out of order, so I'd rather not.
Not that it's any of my business, anyway.
I lounge around my room waiting for noon, even though I have some people to meet at the country club, and when it's time, I head into the living room to look for her.
Ophelia is seated on the couch with my mother and her other friends who were at breakfast. Her gaze meets mine and she asks softly, "Is everything alright, Everett? Where's Addy?"
"I thought she might be here."
"She's probably just finishing up," she claims. "Addy is never late for appointments. Why don't you go knock on her door to find out if she's finished?"
I turn back around and head to her room. f**k, I don't understand why I'm so nervous. I stop right in front of her door and start to knock, but it opens a crack—it probably hadn't been closed properly—and I spot her near her bed in just her underwear, throwing a bright red dress over her head.
My gaze drags over her body, lingering where it shouldn't. The lace panties hug her sweet ass so f*****g perfectly, and her curves...
My c**k swells.
Fuck.
I back away before I'm seen and decide to wait for her at the end of the hallway.
I'm in trouble.
Serious, serious trouble.
- Writer
