"What is the matter, dear?" Jane asked as she sat beside me on the same picnic bench where I had an orgasm.
I must have looked lost because I was staring at the horizon. It's been a week since that heated scene in the car.
Duncan.
Why do I keep on thinking about him? Why does his name keep on popping up every time I am not busy?
And my kids. They never stopped talking about him. It was like, "Mr. Duncan said this..." or, "Mr. Duncan said that..."
As much as I would like to get mad, I cannot. He was filling a space that the children longed to have.
A father.
"Jane, I..." I was having a hard time telling her things. Duncan was her nephew, and I do not want to say anything bad about him.
Other than his uber proclamation that I am his, he was...perfect. I knew that there was no such thing as a perfect human, but he was doing his best. I cannot even discredit him for the things he told me. It was suggestive, but it wasn't rude.
