Author's note:
Here comes a romance of roughly 20k words. It's a stand-alone without further instalments. I hope you enjoy it and leave a vote or a comment.
The sexual content is minimal, so if you're looking for quick stimulation, I'm afraid this isn't the right story for you.
My thanks go to my editors Joffa and another one preferring to remain anonymous. Their contribution makes my story readable. All mistakes you find happened only after their final input and are totally my fault and responsibility.
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The Betrayal
I was in an elated mood when I entered my tiny studio in the late afternoon, coming home after one of the most eventful days in my life so far. In the afternoon, I had defended my Master's thesis about the importance of user-friendliness of software interfaces in front of the panel of examiners. Of course, they hadn't given me the result, but I knew with absolute certainty that I had nailed it. Then, as I was about to leave the room in which I had presented my work and the findings, a man who had been quietly sitting in the back asked me for a quick meeting. He asked a couple of questions regarding my person and my future goals and then offered me a job in a small software company. It was a great position with lots of potential as a designer of user interfaces.
To say I was stunned would have been an understatement. I asked for a couple of days to think about it so I could talk to my family and, most importantly, my girlfriend. The job required a move across the country.
Even though I was a bit later than originally planned, I expected Lara to be home as she knew I would be in a celebratory mood, but to my astonishment, she wasn't there. When I tried to call her, I was sent directly to her voicemail and my text remained unread. Without any information on her whereabouts, I decided to visit my parents. I had a rather delicate relationship with them but at the moment, I didn't want to be alone.
Two years ago, after the Bachelor's degree award ceremony, I had invited my family to a restaurant for a celebration dinner. During dessert, my parents had told me that it was time to either move out or start contributing to the household expenses. The figure they quoted for board and lodge was high enough to pay for a three-bedroom apartment if I wasn't picky about the neighbourhood. I was so pissed at their timing that I didn't even consider staying at home but instead immediately started looking for an apartment. My quest to secure a scholarship was unsuccessful, so I also looked for and found a job as a telemarketer which offered very flexible hours and allowed me to earn just enough for a small studio plus living costs. What had annoyed me the most, was that I remembered all too well how they had helped my brother Andrew by giving him the equity for his new house. It took a couple of months until my parents and I reconciled but, in the end, we reached some kind of understanding which allowed us to move on.
Nevertheless, I almost burst to share my news with somebody, so I decided to go and visit them to tell about both the successful completion of my studies and the job I had been offered. When I reached their house, I found the driveway blocked by my brother's new Mercedes. It had been an early birthday gift from our parents after he had remarked that the six-year-old Ford he was driving wasn't in the best shape anymore and made some clattering noises. I had tried to buy his former car from him but he said he had already agreed to give it to the dealer as part payment.
I didn't have the best relationship with Andrew either. I was only two years younger than he was, but his complete opposite. He was one-metre-ninety-eight like our Dad, while I had stopped growing at one seventy-three, about the same height as Mum. In school, he was the typical muscular jock excelling in all sports but barely scraping through academically while I was scrawny and couldn't catch a ball to save my life but effortlessly reached full marks in all school subjects, besides being a member of most academic school groups. He had been with the popular crowd while I was being shunned even by the nerds due to my brother's well-known dislike for me and nobody wanted to get on the wrong side of him. But today, I didn't want to care about that. I wanted to share the good news with somebody and that I would most likely move away and leave town would probably go down well with him.
It was late in the afternoon as I parked the car at the curb and walked up to my parents' house. As usual, I didn't wait for somebody to open the door but knocked and walked in. I found my parents in the living room watching TV. That was rather untypical for them. Usually at this time of the day, Mum would be in the kitchen preparing dinner for Dad while he would either be at work or spending his time in his hobby room.
Shortly after I had moved out, Mum had converted my old bedroom to a studio which she used for painting. Dad had, for as long as I remembered, used the fourth bedroom for the electric train set which he had built conscientiously over the years.
"Hi, Mum. Hi, Dad. How's it going?"
"George?! What are you doing here? You didn't call to say you were coming!"
What kind of greeting was that? I had long ago acquiesced that I was the second favourite child of the two they had, but we hadn't seen each other in a couple of weeks and that was how they greeted me?
"Lara wasn't home and I had so much fantastic news today, I felt like sharing. Where's Andrew? I saw his car in the driveway."
I asked for him as I didn't want to repeat everything. If he was here, I could tell them all at the same time.
"Andrew? Oh... I... Um... They... Um... He... Um... He's not available," my father stuttered.
I just wanted to ask when he would be available when I heard a female voice that sounded suspiciously familiar and some noises from upstairs.
"Who's that? Is Lara up there?"
My parents exchanged a quick glance but didn't reply to my question. The way they looked at each other told me that something was very wrong here. I started towards the stairs leading to the upper floor when my Mum called out.
"George. Stop! Don't go upstairs."
I hesitated for a moment and heard the female voice again. This time I was quite sure that I recognised the voice of my girlfriend.
"Why not? What's going on?"
She again failed to reply to me so ignoring her protests and shaking off my father's hand when he tried to grab my arm, I rushed to the stairs and ran up. This was unmistakably Lara's voice I heard.
"Oh, God. Yes! Fuck me! Harder! Harder!"
Then I heard my brother.
"Yeah, you like that, don't you, you little bitch?"
I threw the door open and saw Andrew ploughing into Lara from behind, holding her ponytail in one hand. It took them until the door crashed against the wall to realise that it had been opened. When they turned around and saw me standing in the doorway, they scrambled off the bed and tried to cover themselves up.
I didn't say a word as I turned on my heel and started back downstairs. When I reached the ground floor where my parents still stood rooted to the spot, I stopped for a short moment to look at them.
"I don't know why you always prefer that cheating bastard over me but as of today, you don't have to worry about me anymore. I don't want to see either of you ever again. Don't call. Don't write. From my point of view, I'm an orphan."
I don't know what I expected but the defiance I saw in the eyes of the man I had called my father for twenty-four years showed me that he didn't care. A glance at the woman formerly known as Mum confirmed that, even though she at least looked somewhat upset, she wouldn't object to my leaving either. I continued out the door, went straight to my car, climbed in and left for home.
Once there, I parked my car in the underground garage and went upstairs. I locked the door, leaving the key in the lock so that it couldn't be opened from the outside, and started packing. I didn't have much to do. My clothes fitted into the three large suitcases and travel bags I owned and most of my books were already boxed as I had always been short on space in this apartment. The furniture belonged to the owner. I was ten minutes into packing when I heard somebody try to unlock the door. When it failed, she started pounding on the door.
"George! Please open. Let's talk."
Lara. Not my parents, not my brother. My ex-girlfriend. I decided to ignore her and finish packing. It wouldn't take more than another ten minutes.
"George! I know you're here. Please let me in, so we can talk."
When I was finished with packing, I picked up my phone and discovered that I had several unanswered calls and texts on it. I decided to leave them for the moment and started to dial the number of my landlord.
It didn't take long to sort out the apartment. The rent was paid until the end of the month and Mr Johnston generously accepted my termination by telephone. I promised to drop all the keys in his mailbox and he would pay for the cleaning of the studio out of the deposit before returning the remaining balance to me. He asked a couple more questions, we said our goodbyes and that was it.
Next, I called the police and asked them to come and make Lara leave me alone. After giving the lady all the information she needed, I ended the call, urging her to hurry up.
I then moved everything I had packed to the main door where Lara was still knocking and requesting entry. I hung the chain, unlocked and opened the door a little.
"Go away. We've got nothing to discuss."
"George. Thank God. Please. Open the door and let me in."
She put her hand to the door and tried to push it open but my foot and the chain prevented that.
"I won't let you in. Give me back the key you have and you can get a box with your stuff. Then you leave."
"George. I'm sorry. It was an accident."
I closed my eyes and shook my head. Was she really trying to use the oldest of all excuses?
"What are you trying to tell me? You and Andrew stumbled, your clothes dissipated and his cock fell into your cheating cunt?"
"That's not what I meant. It was a mistake."
She was really going through all the horrible clichΓ©s. Next, she'd probably say it wasn't what it looked like.
"It wasn't 'a' mistake. Up until the moment when his prick penetrated your twat you made dozens of decisions and every single one of them was a mistake. Now leave. We don't have anything more to discuss."
Tears started running down her face but I was unmoved by them.
"George. Please. I love you."
My answer was to slam the door shut. She was lucky that she hadn't put her hands in the gap. She resumed the knocking.
"George. Don't let it end like this. Don't throw the last two years away just because I made one mistake."