Forbidden Affairs : In love with My Hot Uncle

Sitting in front of a pew during a funeral always scared me, because of how personalized the loss was.

I remembered watching my school girl sitting in front of the pew during her father's burial months ago, and I remembered feeling sad for her as she bawled her eyes out.

But what I couldn't remember was imagining that girl to be me a few months later.

It was a nightmare. It had to be.

But no matter how many times I blinked, or how many times I pinched my arm, I wouldn't wake up.

Instead, I was still sitting in the front pew. I could see the pity stares from friends, and business associates, but nothing made sense.

The only thing that made sense was my mother's smiling face in a large portrait in front of a casket. Her warm smile seemed to mock me, a cruel reminder of what I'd lost.

I refused to believe she was the one in that casket.

It didn't make any sense.

One moment she was there with me, and the next, she was lying lifeless.

I refused to believe it.

I scanned the crowd, meeting the pity-filled stares of those around me. Some faces were familiar, others unknown, but all shared the same sympathetic expression. Yet, I felt utterly alone. No family, no true friend, to offer comfort.

My phone lay in my lap, my boyfriend's message a constant reminder of his absence.

"I'm sorry I couldn't make it, princess. My dad gave me a shitload of work to do, but I'll make it up to you. Be strong for me, love."

His words brought a fleeting sense of comfort, and despite myself, a ghost of a smile made its way to my lips knowing my boyfriend was thinking of me even though he was absent.

I understood, because I knew how his dad could be. Plus, he was being groomed for to take over the CEO position after his father.

In between the sad smiles, gentle squeeze of my shoulders, and comforting words from people, the rest of the event passed in a blur, and the casket was rolled into the ground in our backyard.

I stood there for what felt like hours, unable to move.

Slowly but surely, the crowd dispersed till I was all alone.

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a dark shadow over the empty space, only then did I force myself into the house.

Silent. Hollow. Empty.

The house was everything I felt inside, and unable to stand on my own two feet, my knees buckled underneath me, and I fell on a heap on the floor.

I hugged my knees to my chest, and the first ball of tear since that dreadful night, rolled down my cheeks.

How I'd kept my tears in was a mystery even to me, but after the first tear, I couldn't stop.

I didn't want to stop.

I felt like my heart was being ripped open and stormed on as I wept for the loss of my mother. My best friend. The only family I had.

The pain I was feeling was unbearable, and I knew I had to leave the house before it swallowed me whole.

With shaky legs, I stood up and sprinted out of the house, one location in mind.

I needed him. I couldn't do this. I couldn't spend another second in that house. Not when everything reminded me of her, and her scent still lingered in the house.

I pumped my feet as fast as I could. My lungs begged me to stop and filled them with air. My limbs protested, but I didn't stop.

I couldn't.

My body was on fire with pain, and the simple activity of breathing became really difficult. But none of them could compare to the painful throb in my heart.

I needed him.

I ran faster, only stopping when the tall roof of his house came into view.

I collapsed by the front door, gasping for breath, and giving myself a few seconds breathe before walking in.

I didn't have to look in the mirror to know I looked like death itself, but I knew he wouldn't mind. He had seen me in my worst, and remained by my side.

He was probably still busy with work, but I couldn't stay longer without him. I would lose my mind.

After what seemed like a long time, but was really just a few minutes, I took a deep breath and stood up.

I knocked once, and was greeted by the kind face of Sandra, the family's old maid.

"Oh, dear child," she placed her palm on her chest.

There it was again. The same sympathetic look I'd been getting all day.

I swallowed the bile in my throat. "Where's Ethan?" My voice was hoarse, I could barely recognized it.

"I think he's in his room. Do you need....."

Before she could finish, I was already climbing the spiraling stairs, wanting nothing more than to melt into my boyfriend's arms.

I reached the hallway where his room was, but a faint moan stopped me in my tracks. My mind rebelled against the sound, refusing to believe what I was hearing

I wiped my tears with the back of my palm to make sure my mind wasn't playing tricks on me.

"Fuck, Ethan," The moan came again, and my body stilled, my heart thumping madly in my chest.

I shook my head, not wanting to believe anything as I walked towards his room.

The door was partly open, and I pushed it open, and the scene in front of me was a punch to my gut.

If someone had told me, I would have slapped them in the face and cussed them straight to hell.

But right in front of me was my boyfriend since sophomore year, thrusting maniacally into a woman, the sound of skin slapping against each other, drowned out by the ringing in my ears. My world shattered.

"You're so fucking sweet," he moaned.

They were so engrossed in their activity that they didn't notice me.

Not until a sob escaped my lips.

Ethan turned to me, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlamp, and he jumped out of the woman, who only looked irritated to be deprived an orgasm.

"Sophia!" Ethan jumped up from the bed. "You didn't tell me you were coming," he threw a short over his legs.

"So this was it. The reason you couldn't attend my mother's funeral was because you were fucking another woman?" I asked in a very small voice.

"I can explain, Sophie....just hear me out, baby....."

"Go on. Explain," I said was low but trembled with rage.

He was taken aback, and just like I expected, he had absolutely nothing to say.

I shook my head, and more tears fell. "I hate you, Ethan. You've hurt me in the worst way possible, and I'll never forgive you!"

"Baby...."

"Don't touch me!" I yelled like a mad person. "Four years, Ethan. Four years. How could you do this to me?! I screamed at the top of my lungs.

"Don't blame me when it's your fault too!" He bellowed. "We've been together for four years, but not once have you let me fuck you! I'm a man with fucking needs, what do you expect?!"

"And this.....fucking a whore was the best way to go about this?" I asked incredulously, unable to believe this was the same person I thought I loved more than life itself.

We picked baby names for crying out loud!

"Well, maybe if you weren't such a prude, it wouldn't have gotten to this. Who knows, you might not even be the virgin you claim to be. You might be going around fucking every cock in the city and pretending....."

My palm connected sharply with his cheek, the force throwing his head back. "You're despicable. Have a horrible life!"

I turned and ran, tears streaming down my face as I fled the scene of my shattered heart.