Page 10 of Single Dad Dilemma

When I feel tired enough to sleep, I shut off the TV and go to my bedroom, falling into bed and bringing the pillows all around me. Sleeping alone will never be something I get used to, but if I’m tired enough, it’s not impossible. Before I know it, I’m drifting into a deep sleep.

I’m sitting at my desk in my home office when I hear the front door open.

“Cason, Margo, I’m home,” she yells, and I get up and walk into the living room where Violet is standing, holding several grocery bags.

“I missed you,” I say, leaning in for the bags but giving her a quick kiss as I take them.

She kisses me back and giggles. “I missed you too. Where’s Margo?”

“Margs!” I shout, walking the items into the kitchen.

Margo comes running down the stairs, straight into Violet’s arms. “You’re finally back,” she says, hugging her tightly.

Violet laughs. “Was an hour too long for you?”

Margo nods.

“Well, I’m sorry, but I got you something.” She carries her into the kitchen and reaches into one of the bags, pulling out a cookie decorating kit. All the cookies are in the shapes of pumpkins, ghosts, and bats for Halloween.

“Yay!” Margo squeals, taking the plastic container and looking at it more closely.

“After dinner, we’ll decorate them. Okay?”

Margo smiles and nods. “Okay. Thank you, Mommy.”

Violet smiles and hugs her tightly, but that mommy comment has my hair standing on end. She’s never called Violet that before, and it makes me worry that maybe she’s getting a little too comfortable.

Violet places her on her feet, and she runs back into the other room. I move over to capture her in my arms this time, placing a hand on either side of her and trapping her. “What was that about?” I ask, my lips only centimeters away from hers.

She shrugs. “She asked if she could call me that, and I didn’t want to tell her no.”

“Are you okay with that? Being called Mommy seems kind of permanent, you know.”

She reaches up and wraps her arms around my neck. “I know, and I’m okay with it as long as you are.”

I smile. “Oh, I’m more than okay with it,” I tell her, moving in and kissing her lips hard and full of passion. I pull her tighter against my chest, my hands finding the small of her back before moving down to squeeze her ass.

She lets out a squeal when I pick her up against me. Her legs wrap around my hips as I move her over to the table, setting her down.

Margo is suddenly nowhere to be found, so I don’t worry when I start removing Violet’s clothes in the middle of the kitchen. I free myself from my jeans and position myself at her entrance. With one thrust, I’m sliding into her scorching heat, overwhelmed with the need to explode.

I wake, and my body is covered in a sheen of sweat. My heart is racing, and my lungs can’t get enough oxygen. That dream felt real, even though at the time, I knew I was dreaming. I could feel her heat as I held her against me. I could feel her soft lips on mine. I could feel the overwhelming need to explode. But I guess that’s just my body’s way of telling me to bleed the valve. I haven’t been with a woman in years, not since my wife. Being a man, my body has needs, and if they’re ignored, it will try to take care of them itself. That’s all that dream was. It doesn’t mean that I feel any certain way about Violet or that in the back of my mind, I’m planning on her being a replacement for Kate.

Once I remind myself of that, I’m able to take control of my body, to calm myself down. I look over at the clock and see that it’s going on six a.m. Might as well get up now. I trudge to the connected bathroom and turn on the shower. I avoid the mirror and my haggard appearance as I step in beneath the hot flow of water. I hang my head and let the water flow over it, my eyes fluttering shut.

Behind my lids, I see my wife—my late wife. I see her soft ivory skin as she moves beneath me, and my body comes alive again. Apparently, this isn’t a problem that’s going to go away, so I take myself in hand, giving into the vision of the time I had with my wife. I hear her soft moans, feel her soft lips on my neck. As my hand moves faster, my release starts to form like a growing balloon in my stomach.

Just as my release rises to the surface, the vision changes. It’s no longer my wife that I’m with. It’s her, Violet. Her black hair is fanned out across my pillows, her dark eyes are on mine, and her thick, plump lips parted as moans escape. It’s too late to stop it. My release breaks free and flows hot and heavy onto the shower floor.

I’m breathing heavy, and my heart is racing as I try to get myself under control. I place my hand against the shower wall and lean against it, trying to calm my body and my mind as a sudden panic rises when I think about what I just did. In the three years my wife has been gone, I have not slept, touched, or even thought about any other woman. Why now? Why this woman? Is it impossible to just be friends with her and let Margo have a solid relationship with another woman without wanting to fuck it all up? I hate myself more than I can explain or even understand. I feel angry, confused, weak. I should be able to keep myself in check, but as soon as I think I do, she comes sliding back through the small cracks that have formed in me. It’s like I can’t escape her. The hate I feel for myself turns into hate for her. Why is she doing this to me? Can’t she see how broken I am? Can’t she understand the pain and hurt that I go through on a daily basis? Is this what she wants? Does she want to take over my every thought?

No, don’t be ridiculous. She’s a nice woman who’s only trying to make you and your daughter feel at home.Don’t twist this into something it’s not,I tell myself.

The worst part is, I have to see her again today. I promised Margo we’d go there for breakfast so she could give her the thank you card she made. Will I even be able to look at her without remembering that dream and what I’ve just done?

I have to push it to the back of my mind.

I get out and get dressed for the day. I head to the kitchen and start a pot of coffee. Margo will probably sleep for another couple of hours, so while I enjoy my coffee, I head into my home office to start unpacking it and getting it in order.

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