Sweet Girl by Quell T. Fox
Jonathan
It’sbeenthreedamndaysandshehasn’tansweredme.EvenifIdon’tbelieveshemeantwhatshesaid,sheneedstofigurethisoutonherown.
Charlotte isn’t a middle-aged woman who has experienced life and knows what she wants. She’s a nineteen year old young woman who is just finishing up her first year of college. She’s barely lived, barely experienced a thing. I can’t force her into anything and even if I could, I wouldn’t do that to her. She needs to make her own decisions, including her own mistakes.
No matter what, I’ll be here to pick up the pieces, though.
Because I can’t let her go.
She’s barely spent any time in her room over these last few days and I fear it’s because she knows I’m watching. I know she’s home because I’ve driven by more than once. I see her silhouette walk by the windows when the sun is down. I watch her sometimes, too. I sit in my car across the street and stare towards the windows, convincing myself to not interfere, to not go in.
I always told Allison she should buy blinds, even offered to do so myself but she didn’t want them.
Guess it doesn’t matter now.
She’s moving in with her fancy new boyfriend. The doctor.
She’s selling the house.
I’m not jealous as much as I am angry.
But not for me.
I’m angry for Charlotte and the shit she’s been handed in life.
I want to make everything better for her but I don’t know how to do that without telling her exactly what to do. She’s a wild one who doesn’t want to be tamed, I can see that.
These games we play, I love them. Fuck, I miss watching her touch herself, be touched by someone else. I miss teasing her or seeing the way her mouth drops open when I stroke my cock for her. The soft sounds she makes…
But I guess that game is over. At least, until she figures out what the fuck she wants.
Part of me hoped this would turn into something more, but I’m an idiot for having thought that. She’s so young. Even if she does have stronger feelings for me than what she’s letting on, why would she choose to settle down now?
Why the fuck did I think a nineteen year old would be wanting to make a life with someone twice her age when I only settled down a little over three years ago myself?
It hurts my fucking heart and tears at my soul knowing she’ll end up with someone else.
I fear if I let her go now, that’s what will happen.
I don’t want her with anyone else. I want her with me.
She is fucking mine.
I’m torn between letting her make her own mistakes and risking losing her, or making her realize what she has in front of her, and risking her resenting me for it later on… this is an impossible choice to make. I know she’s young and she needs to learn. Truthfully, I only think I’m where I am today because I made mistakes and learned from them. But the primal part of me that lingers deep makes me want to steal her away and make the choice for her. I know she wants this and I think she’d make the right choice in the end, but I’m impatient. I don’t want to wait for her to figure it out.
Something builds in me, swirling around in my chest.
Why have I become so weak?
Her words run through my mind.
Just a game, remember?
Fuck you, it’s just a game. This isn’t a fucking game, this is my life. She is my life.
Charlotte is mine.
I grab my keys off the counter and head out the door. Three days without seeing my beautiful girl is three days too long. At this point, I don’t give a fuck how much she resents me in the future, we can handle it. Fuck, we can handle anything. I’ll make sure of it.
When I pull up to the house, there are no lights on. I figure she must be sleeping so I take the hideaway key from under the rock on the side of the house and let myself in. The house is quiet and I have the feeling that the house is empty.
When I do a sweep of the downstairs and find no one, I go upstairs. I know she isn’t in her room because I’ve been watching the camera like a hawk. Even when I’m at work I’m checking it constantly.
But when I walk in, I find her things gone. Everything she packed and brought here is gone. The only thing remaining is her sweet scent. I rush to the closet and pull the doors open. The suitcase that I became quite familiar with while spending time in here is gone.
She left.
I walk over to the bookshelf and pull my phone from my pocket. I open up the app that allows me to see the camera feed from wherever I am, and even though I’m standing right in front of it, it isn’t picking me up. All I see is the layout of her room.
“Son of a bitch.”
I pick up the picture frame and turn it over. There is a note stuck to the back.
Jonathan,
I’ll never be what you need. You deserve more.
Love, your sweet girl.
I crumple the note in my hand before I realize what I’m doing. I quickly unclench my fist and smooth the paper out, folding it neatly and sliding it into my pocket.
I don’t care how far I have to go for this girl, she will be mine.