As soon as the thought entered his head, Jermaine knew he couldn’t point any fingers at Envy. Eden had not deserved this type of betrayal, he knew it. Yet he had done it and enjoyed it. The thought of being like Envy made him sick to his already weak stomach. Now that the act was over, thinking of what he and Envy just did made Jermaine physically sick. It didn’t matter that his dick was hard, he felt queasy.

“Shake it off. This was the last time. You blocked that bitch’s number, shampooed the carpets in the car and wiped off the backseat. Thank God the Jeep has leather seats. I’m done with this foul shit before Eden finds out,” Jermaine told himself.

He was confident in what he was saying because he had no idea that Eden had seen every sexual act shared between him and her sister in real time. Touching his sweatpants, Jermaine confirmed that the hand dryer had dried the excretions. Exiting the restroom, Jermaine made peace with his actions. He was on the verge of making things right.

The scent of wild sex and cum could not be detected when Jermaine climbed into Eden’s Jeep. He silently thanked God that there was no telltale sign that just an hour ago, the Wagoneer had been a sex dungeon. Jermaine turned the volume of the radio down so he could work through the thoughts in his head.

“Ma, I wish you were here. I really wish I could talk to you. I’ve needed your advice so badly in the past twenty-three years. I’m married now. My wife’s name is Eden, you would’ve really liked her. I have a real good woman, but for some reason, I keep fucking my marriage up.

We split up a few months ago and I was going insane without her. After a few months, we got back together. I thought that time apart scared me straight, but it didn’t. Like a fool, I did the same shit again. I don’t even know why,” Jermaine sighed.

As a child, after he sighed, he knew this would be the moment where his mother would say, “God never puts more on us than we can handle,” Foolishly he waited to hear those words, but sadly it never came. The absence of her voice made the pain in his chest feel as brutal as the day he watched her being murdered.

“Damn Ma, you’re really gone. I just wish you could give me some sort of sign to let me know you’re ok and guide me in the right direction. I don’t know what to do next,”

“Nothing says, I love you, like a bouquet of freshly picked cut roses. Show the lady in your life how much you love her with a personalized Bouquet of Love,”