My feet slap against the treadmill as I work out a few days later.
My rib’s feeling better. I can move with only minor pain now, and I have an appointment with Dr. Baker this morning after a quick meeting with Everleigh.
I wasn’t expecting to open up to her on the way back from Ellie’s place, and maybe I didn’t. But it felt like I did.
I don’t talk about my parents to anyone. Ever.
But I told her about my mom. All I said isshe’s not doing well. I didn’t give her the bigger picture that some days she doesn’t know who I am, other days she thinks I’m a little kid, and still other days she’s totally functional. Alzheimer’s is a bitch of a disease, that’s for sure. Watching her deteriorate has been hell, and I live with the guilt of not being by her side as she navigates this cruel disease.
I keep her note behind a photo of the two of us taken at my wedding. It’s the only trace I have left that I was once married, and I only keep it out because it’s my mom.
I memorized the note long ago. She wrote it to me right after her diagnosis, long before we knew how bad it would get.
It’s short and sweet, much like her.
You come first. Always. Never allow my illness to take away from your own life.
She’s at the best memory care facility Ohio offers. I get back to visit a few times a year, usually in the offseason.
I suppose it’s why I was protective over my answer when Everleigh asked me where I like to travel.
But she’s starting to wear me down, I guess. I’m starting towantto confide these things in her, and I’m not sure why yet. Maybe because she refuses to give up on me.
Nobody has ever done that for me…except my mom, who had no clue who I was when I last saw her.
It’s heartbreaking. It makes it hard to go, but I do it anyway.
She didn’t deserve to be treated like shit by my asshole father. She deserved a better life than the one she got. It’s why I did everything I could to take care of her as soon as I could afford to. It’s why I pay for the best medical care now.
I can’t be there physically and listen to the words in her note at the same time, so I do what I can from a distance.
Even if she never knows it.
She made sacrifices for me my entire life, and I try to return the favor.
I told Everleigh about my dad, too.He’s a fuckin’ deadbeat.
That’s all I care to say on that matter. It’s still more than I’ve told most people.
I finish my sprint and slow to a walk for a few minutes before I power down the machine. I make a protein shake and sip it as I study the view out my window.
I take a shower, and as I brush against my cock, I think about jerking off.
But then I realize who is in my head.
The red lipstick.
The red dress.
The black heels with the red bottom.
Red means danger, like when the opposing team is nearing the red zone and we have to stop them. Thinking about her when my cock is hard and in my hand is about the most dangerous sport I can play right now.
I can’t seem to stop myself, though. I picture those red-lined lips wrapped around me as I pull short strokes, focusing on the head. Hot water beats down on me, and I lean back against the cold tile of the shower wall as I feel heat starting to pulse through me.
I grunt as I pick up the pace, and I squeeze my eyes shut when I feel the heat ignite as it tears through me. “Fuck,” I grunt, and her face flashes through my mind just as my cum erupts out of me. It seems to go on and on as each new pulse spills more cum, and I sag back against the wall for a beat once my release has passed through me. I rinse my cum down the drain, holding both my fist and the head of my cock under the water to wash it away like it never happened.
But it did happen, and twenty minutes later, I’m slightly relaxed and also slightly mortified as I take a seat across from her in the conference room of our building.
