I park the Harley, cut the engine and remove my helmet, still straddling the bike.
My eyes wander to the front of the church and I grimace as memories bombard me. It’s been years. Too many and not enough. The pain is still there, burning like an acid in my stomach and a cancer in my brain.
Every Sunday morning my father would drag me here, so he could spout his three Hail Mary’s and repent his sins before we returned to our shitty life.
I run my finger under the collar of my shirt. I hate suits and it doesn’t feel right to be wearing one on the Harley. A Harley is meant for jeans and leathers.
A movement captures my gaze and there she is, walking into the church with her father. She’s the reason I’m back here….and the reason I left in the first place.
Her long, dark hair is swept up into some fancy do, exposing the delicate sweep of her neck and jaw. Her dark brown eyes and pretty lips are seared into my brain, and my cock springs to life as I remember those lips on mine. Our first kiss had very nearly become our first time and the heat of those memories still has the power to bring me to my knees.
My eyes travel down her long legs and the shape of her exquisite ass in the form fitting skirt suit. Just looking at her from a distance gets me hard and I’m already imagining the things I’d like to do to her…with her. Things I should’ve done a long time ago…
She’s always had this effect on me. She just never knew it.
Until one night five years ago. And then I left - without so much as a goodbye or even a note.
Five long years I’ve stayed away, giving her the time to grow up, the chance to make her own choices, even if those choices no longer include me.
Five years spent running away from my feelings. I couldn’t tell her back then - she deserved so much more than I could give her. She was too young, and I was too fucked up. Maybe I still am.
I had to be here today. The day that she’s burying her mother. It won’t be easy - I’m pretty sure she hates me for leaving - but I’m back now.
Back to claim what’s mine.