Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.
A big thank you to Mike for his help in being the inspiration for this story. It starts out a bit slow, but I hope you will be rewarded. And, it goes without saying, everyone is an adult.
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Christine and I were on vacation celebrating our tenth anniversary. We were having a great time parasailing, swimming with dolphins, and enjoying the beautiful coast. I was looking forward to another 10, 20, 30, even 40 years of a wonderful marriage. As it turned out, I was the only one who thought that.
One evening close to the end of our week, Christine seemed a bit distant. Maybe she was just a bit tired. Maybe we could just eat dinner and get a good night's sleep. No, that wasn't it and what she said next shocked me.
"Brad, I don't love you."
Where did this come from? Not only did she not love me, Christine told me, she was having an affair with her boss for over a year and that I was a "terrible fuck." The really cruel part was that she was so smug as she said it. How had I missed this? What had I done? She had the 'things' she wanted and I always gave her the respect a wife who is loved deserves.
"I just want another man," she went on. "Any man who isn't you."
She slammed the stake into my heart and twisted. There was no going back.
"I will be out of our room in 15 minutes and l will leave your ticket on the dresser. Go back whenever you want," I said and tried to be calm.
"I'm going back in the morning. Well," she continued with a smirk, "I'm going on to Hawaii to meet him. He will be fucking me tomorrow." Christine said this almost gleefully, hurting me further. Trying to destroy me.
Trembling with anger and shame, I got up from the table. Thank God I was thinking, though. Once out of her sight, I made a call to my banker, accountant, and lawyer. All of them personal friends. I took her off every account and disabled her ATM and credit cards -- she was on my accounts I had before our marriage.
When I got to the room, I packed my things quickly and left her an envelope with some cash and a check for half of what was in our checking and saving accounts -- we lived in a community property state. I let her know she was off the ATM and credit cards in a note.
With that, I walked out of the hotel and left the life I had thought was perfect.
The court battle wasn't really much of a fight. My accountant provided the numbers. My lawyer made sure she didn't clean me out. The house was sold and I received half of the proceeds. Everything was finalized.
One thing neither one of us could predict happened during the next month after the divorce was finalized. I won a lottery jackpot. You'd think I'd be happy, but I didn't have anyone to share it with, so it just went into investments after I bought a house and remodeled. No fancy cars, art, wine, parties, or anything. I just worked as a writer and lived quietly giving to what I thought were worthy causes.
And, no, I did not go out with anyone. It was a self-imposed celibacy. I just stopped caring and never saw anyone who attracted me.
After two years, my brother Mike, who I loved so much, called and said he wanted to stay with me for few weeks.
"I'd love to have you here. Stay as long as you want. There's a suite you can use. Wait until you see it. When are you going to be here?" The questions came out all at once; I was really excited to have him around.
You see, Mike is ten years younger than I am. He was one of those surprise babies you hear about who are just cherished. When Mike was five, our Dad was killed in a massive car accident, and I kind of became brother and father to him teaching him about sports, how to fix things around the house, went camping together, and just loved him. I didn't date much in high school because I just thought I had to take care of Mike, along with Mom.
Mom made sure he took piano lessons. Saw the beauty in flowers. I taught him how to plant a flower garden. Mom taught him what should be in it. Our life was really wonderful, even though we missed Dad every day.
Once in college I did not see him as often of course, but we talked three times a week. I graduated, got a job as a writer, and married Christine who was my college sweetheart. I should have figured out things were not as rosy as I thought they were when she complained about the time I spent with Mike, but hindsight is 20/20, right? Soon, Mike wasn't coming around any longer, but we continued to talk twice a week.
It was during one of those talks when he was 16 that he told me he was gay. My reaction?
"Yeah. So? You are still my brother and I still love you, Mikey." You could almost hear him simile through the phone. And, the sigh of relief was kind of a give away, too.
Mike went on to college, majored in electrical engeineering and minored in music. He found a great job with a start-up while he continued to give piano lessons because he loved the piano so much. The piano lessons where how he supported himself through college. He had a few boyfriends and a couple of serious relationships with guys who were older, but they never seemed to work out. Sure, I was concerned about him because I only wanted to very best for my younger brother.
He finally arrived. I had been looking forward to seeing and spending time with him, again. When I heard him drive up, I opened the door and just beamed. As he got out of the car and came closer. I got a good look at him. He really looked like our Mother, who had died a few years ago. The same thick brown hair, slim build, and blue eyes that just sparkled. At 5'8" he was shorter than my 6'0" and when I hugged him, his head rested against my shoulder. He just seemed to fit me so well. As I held him, I felt the stress leave his body as he kind of melted into me. Smiling, I just held him for a few moments.
"This place is great. You've done a beautiful job," as he looked around the exterior of my remodeled mid-century home after stepping back from our hug.
"It could use your landscaping skills, I think. But, that's something we can talk about later. We need to get you settled in. Let me help you grab your stuff and get it to your room. First, let me show you your room."
I guided him through the house giving him the nickel tour pointing out the obvious kitchen, great room, showing him where my office was and the location of the Master Suite. And, it didn't take him long to notice the pool in the backyard, either. Nothing slow about Mikey when there's a wall of windows looking into the backyard!
Finally, we got to his room. He gasped when he saw how big it was and walked into the attached bathroom.
"This is for me," he asked.
"For as long as you want it. Weeks. Months. Years. As far as I am concerned, this is your room and this house is your home." As I said this, I was looking directly into his eyes and saw him begin to tear. Walking over to him, I wrapped him in my arms and just held him.
"Nobody has ever done anything like this for me," he whispered as I held him.
