This story is part 1 of my Reunited series.
Amy drives to see her brother, Jamie after she is cheated on by her ex-boyfriend. The only thing being she hasn't seen Jamie is seven months and things aren't the same as she remembers...
All characters are over the age of 18.
Thank you Barelyawriter for editing this part.
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Part 1
I found it difficult to climb out of the car. People strolled past, not even noticing me as I sat in the driver's seat, my hands gripping the steering wheel so hard that my fingers had turned white. It had been more than twenty minutes since I pulled into the parking space, but the nerve to climb out of the car and head upstairs had disappeared the instant I killed the engine. How was I supposed to go upstairs and face him? The last time we had spoken had ended horrible, and I had regretted everything I had said to him and had wished to take them back. But that was the thing with words, once they were spoken you couldn't reverse time and stop yourself from saying it, they were out there.
Seven months ago, I had made the decision to move out of my parent's place and in with my boyfriend, Mark. We had been dating for a year and a half, and I had always thought that marriage would be in our future. My brain was so obsessed with the idea of love, getting married, and having kids that I was blind to the visible signs that Mark was only keeping me around for sex. But it wasn't just me, Mark had three other girls that he regularly visited every week to get his rocks off even more.
My older brother, Jamie, who I had always considered my best friend, tried to show me the truth. He had never liked Mark and had been honest with me about his distrust towards Mark. I just figured, that like every big brother, he wanted to protect me and that he was overreacting. When I announced at our weekly family dinner that I was going to move into an apartment with Mark, Jamie didn't take it well. The ordinarily happy weekly meal descended into an argument between Jamie and I. There was no laughter, no movie afterwards, only the sound of Jamie slamming the door as he stormed out of the house telling me that when Mark broke my heart, he didn't want to hear it.
For seven months, I believed that Jamie was wrong and that he would be the one who would come crawling back to me. But no. A day earlier, I came home early from a work trip, which had sent me to New York for two weeks. The two weeks had been exciting, but I had missed Mark, we had spoken on the phone daily and had virtual sexy time, but I was aching to get back to him and have him take me for real. Being able to head home two days earlier than expected, I stopped at Victoria Secret. I brought a dark red lace set of bra and panties that would have any boy drooling. I slipped on the underwear in the bathroom, covered myself with nothing but my coat, and drove back to the apartment as quickly as possible.
To keep a painful story short, I walked through the front door and found Mark balls deep inside a redhead who was on all fours with her mouth wrapped around another guys cock who I also didn't know. I had been so shocked at the sight before me that I had been able to leave or scream at them, all I could do was watch as Mark grunted and moaned before pulling out and shooting his cum all over her ass.
It was the man who was having his cock sucked by the redhead who noticed me. He smirked, winked and asked, "Are you here to join the party?"
Mark had spun around shocked; his mouth opened and closed several times, but nothing came out. No excuses, no nothing. He just rubbed the back of his head and looked between the people he'd been enjoying a threesome with and me.
My brain finally caught up, and my reaction surprised me. I burst out laughing, to the point I found it hard to breathe. I forced myself to leave the room and go straight to the bedroom. The laughing faded into sobs as I closed the bedroom door behind me, and I grabbed a suitcase to grab as much of my stuff as I could. Underwear, socks, pants, shirts, shoes. I shoved all of it into the bag, and when that was full, I grabbed another bag and did the same thing.
I was alone, sobbing as I packed my bags, and Mark never once came to find me. I took off my jacket and slipped on some jeans and an oversized shirt and carried my suitcases to the front door.
Mark was sitting at the dining table; he had pulled on a pair of jeans, and his friends had disappeared. He didn't look upset or worried, he looked annoyed. I put down my bags and said, "I'll be back for the rest of my stuff once I have a place."
He nodded. "Sure."
"I will let you know when I am coming so that you can make sure that you aren't here," I said.
He nodded again. "Of course."
A typical couple would have yelled. A relationship didn't end with few words and no emotion between the two. My chest hurt, but the pain wasn't for Mark. Finding him fucking some other slut didn't make me angry at him, all I felt was anger at myself. I had been so stupid, and now I was the one who had to go home and admit I was wrong.
Driving to my parents would have been the most comfortable option. Neither of them would judge, and they had always told us that we could always come home. I could have shown up in any condition, and I would be welcomed home, cuddled by my mum while my dad would put my stuff in my old room. No questions asked. But I didn't want my parents.
I had stuffed my bags into the boot of my cars, and all I wanted was to see Jamie. Seven months of no communication and the only thing I wanted was my best friend, my brother. I told myself to just do it, go and see him.
Jamie was six hours away; he had moved to LA for his job two years ago and had always made regular flight trips to visit me in San Francisco, and I would do the same. I had never driven there before. But there was no way a plane would let me load two hefty bags without charging a fortune.
So, I drove—all the way down the I-5 from San Francisco to Los Angeles. The sun had started to set by the time I parked my car outside of his apartment complex. Guest parking on the street was valid for three hours, and I had already spent 20 minutes sitting in my car trying to find the will to go upstairs.
I leant my head against the wheel and closed my eyes. Jamie was my brother, we loved each other, and siblings fort all the time. I would walk upstairs, and he would be overjoyed to see me, he would hug me and tell me I was stupid for thinking he hated me. That was what I wanted. But it had also been seven months.
A tap on my window startled me. I jumped and let out a small squeak as I turned to the window. The bright blue eyes that belonged to Jamie were staring at me through my window. I wiped at my eyes to make sure I wasn't dreaming before taking a breath and rolling down my window.
"You lost?" he asked me.
I wanted to cry. Jamie's eyes were filled with warmth and humour that I had missed seeing. He always had this twinkle in his eye, and it seemed to shine when he looked at me. It made me feel special that I was the only one who got that look.
I managed to find my voice. "Not lost, just scared."
"Of what?" he asked.
