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“Do you flirt with all your patients?” I smirk unapologetically. “Only the ones that come on my fingers.”
Would I remember them without the photos? Every day, the memory of them fades a little more. The pain never dulls, but it’s starting to get harder to remember the feel of my mother’s arms, the smile on my dad’s face. I’d give anything to have one more moment with my father, and I hope Amara won’t come to regret staying away from hers.
I want her flat on her back, my cock sinking deep inside her. Instead, I’m standing here, watching her fuck a plastic toy.
“Greg,” I say, my voice soft. “I don’t need a man to provide for me. I need someone that respects me, that’ll put me first. Someone that can make me laugh with him — not at him. I need someone that understands me and that supports my dreams and ambitions. Someone that will grow with me. A man like you will never be what I want.”
“Now that I know what your pussy feels like… what you taste like… nah, I don’t think we can be friends, baby.”
I’d give the world to speak to my father one last time. All parents are different, but you have yours… and if even a small part of you wants him in your life, then at least think about it carefully before you decide.”
“I was standing in the hallway just now, wishing I could speak to my dad one last time, wishing I could ask for his advice, wishing I could hear him tell me that everything is going to be okay. But I can’t, Amara. He’ll never text me again. He’ll never ask to see me again. I won’t ever hear from him again. You can still see yours.”
Life is for the living… maybe so, but that doesn’t mean the dead shouldn’t be honored.
