You told me you had a wife and two kids. You told me she mistreated you physically, mentally and emotionally. You told me that most times than not, you had to sleep at a lodging hoping some day she would come back to her senses. Naturally I felt bad and sorry for you. Sympathy became empathy and empathy affection. One thing led to another and you were finding comfort in between my thighs. It felt good until she called to say she wants to work things out.
I don’t blame you. How could I? You were kind enough to tell me the truth to begin with. I just wanted to feel heroic and save the day. I wanted to fix something that wasn’t broken, just loose. So now I am here wondering how I ever got to this place to begin with. Worse still, I wonder how I will get out.



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