Sketches of You, PART 2 (Adagio)
A story about love, change, and a dog named Sebastian
This is the second part of a longer (60k+ words) story. It leans pretty heavily into the "Lit" aspect of Literotica so it may not be to everyone's taste. For returning readers, I hope you are enjoying the story thus far. For new readers, this part is not intended to be a standalone piece, so I would strongly recommend that you read PART 1 before tackling it. Or, if you're feeling cocky, you could read this part first and then make up your own backstory for the characters before going back to PART 1 to see if you got it right. But, on balance, it's probably just easier to start by reading PART 1 first—but you do you.
As I mentioned at the end of PART 1, this is my first attempt at writing a longer (novel- or novella-length) piece, and my first attempt to include some more traditional erotica as part of the story. I would love to hear your thoughts on both, if you are so inclined.
Chapter 4
I would like to say that I left Kelly, my soon-to-be ex-wife, in a burst of righteous fury and that once I left, I never looked back. That I was wronged, and that my departure changed everything, leading to my own personal redemption arc and a dramatic fall-from-grace for her. As much as I would like to say that, however, it just wouldn't be true.
When Sebastian (my middle-aged mutt who was a mix of Golden Retriever, slobber and joy) and I left what had been my home for the past 20 years and hit the road in my silver VW California Ocean camper van, all I felt was a deep sense of grief and loss. So much so, that after the first five minutes on the road I had the almost overwhelming urge to turn around and go back, despite what Kelly had done.
In the back of my mind, however, I knew that Kelly had been right about at least one thing. I was a forty-year-old man, and I had no idea what I wanted from life. And, at least in part because of that, I had a wife of more than 20 years who didn't love me and two daughters who I loved more than the world, but who didn't seem to respect or value me. I knew that if I went back now, even if I could smooth things over with Kelly, our relationship would always be unequal; I would love her, and she would be fond of me. That knowledge did nothing to allay the sense of loneliness and loss that suffused me.
When I left Boise, I drove due north. I decided, almost on a whim, that I was going to drive up to Alaska. There was no particular reason for that choice, just the overwhelming need to get away from people for a while to think. I figured that some solitude and time to reflect would be good for me.
I drove for about five hours that first night before stopping at a pullout on the highway near Sandpoint. One small blessing from the past few months was that my life had fallen apart in slow motion rather than all at once, so it didn't feel unbearably lonely to fall asleep by myself—it had been months since I had shared a bed with Kelly. It was comforting, though, when Sebastian curled up beside me to keep me warm.
I woke up before 6 AM, a habit I had developed over the last 20 years that would not easily be broken. I made myself a cup of coffee and then went outside to work out while Sebastian jumped around and rolled at my feet. My father had taught me martial arts from a young age, as a way for us to connect and to help manage his PTSD. I had continued practicing even after he took his own life and even after all of this time, I still felt his comforting presence when I practiced. I could almost hear his voice, gently correcting my posture and form, and telling me that he loved me.
By 7 AM I had worked up a sweat, so I stripped down to my shorts and quickly washed under the outdoor shower. It took me a few minutes to figure out how the shower worked, and it used almost a quarter of my water supply, so I decided that showers might not be an everyday luxury for me going forward. I trusted that Sebastian wouldn't kick up too much of a fuss about the smell.
I made myself a cold breakfast and then hit the road, stopping at one of my favorite hikes in Kaniksu National Forest before crossing the border into Canada later that afternoon. The trail to Beehives Lake is pretty steep and rocky, and there was snow on the surrounding peaks even in early July. Since it was Independence Day, Sebastian and I had the trail pretty much to ourselves, and I set a good pace. It was beautiful, though, and the stark landscape reflected my mood.
When I finished the hike, Sebastian and I got back on the highway and crossed into British Columbia, Canada. A few hours later I was eating dinner in a small diner by the highway in a town called Cranbrook.
The rest of my life had begun.
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It's hard to make a new start when you are surrounded by memories of the past, so I left as much of my old life behind in Boise as I could, including my old cellphone. The only people who had my new number were Julio Rodriguez, my closest friend and trusted confidant from my old job running Karlson Electric (a division of Karlson Industries), Samuel Jansen, my corporate lawyer and Chief Operating Officer for RG Innovations, Gerald Stevens, the lawyer handling my divorce from Kelly, and my youngest daughter, Molly.
I figured that my other daughter, Sandra, wouldn't be too upset at my departure since she was spending most of her time with her biological father, Braedon Jameson, these days anyways. If she wanted to get in touch with me, she could always ask Molly, but I doubted very much that she would. She was 22, old enough to make her own choices and to navigate their consequences. As for Kelly, if she wanted to get in touch she could contact me through my lawyer.
Then there was my mother. Now that I knew it was her cheating that had driven my father to take his own life, I didn't plan to ever be in contact with her again. I was sure that this would drive her into a narcissistic rage, but at least I wouldn't be there to see it and she would no longer be my problem. After paying her bills and giving her a free place to stay for the past twenty years, it was well past time for her to stand on her own. I doubted that she would miss me that much, but I knew she would miss my money. Oh well, she would have one more story about her ingrate of a son to share with her friends.
Despite my efforts to limit contact with my old life, I got a call from Molly two days after I left which I reluctantly answered.
"Hey, Pumpkin, what's up?" I asked, trying not to sound too hurt and bitter.
"Daddy, when are you coming home?"
"I explained in the letter I left you, Pumpkin. I am not coming home, or at least not for a long while."
"But why, Daddy? I miss you lots, and so does Mommy. She is crying all the time."
I found that perplexing. Kelly explicitly said that she didn't love me—that she had never loved me—so I would have thought she would be relieved that I was finally gone.
"I'm sorry you miss me, Pumpkin, but choices have consequences. You and Sandra both knew that Mommy was cheating on me, and you both chose to keep that secret from me. Heck, Sandra seemed almost giddy with excitement for her. I know you were in a tough spot and that you didn't approve of what your mother was doing, but you still made your choice."
