CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

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Tony and Camilla, with bright, radiant smiles, unflappable buoyancy and naughty secrets, emerged from the bespoke pool house reeking of oxytocin, endorphins and middle-aged sex

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Tony and Camilla, with bright, radiant smiles, unflappable buoyancy and naughty secrets, emerged from the bespoke pool house reeking of oxytocin, endorphins and middle-aged sex.

How do I know they had hot, wild, relentless sex?

Well, for starters, the man's cheeks had a hint of rosiness. He sported messy bed hair, a sweat-slicked forehead and a Duchenne smile. The crisp white shirt, left unbuttoned to flaunt neatly trimmed chest hair and a heavily patterned mariner chain, is half-heartedly tucked into the waistband of smart formal trousers.

As for Little Miss Squeals A Lot, the recently brushed hair, fresh concealer and sultry purple lipstick application with a pinch of pucker-up, buttercup, unsuccessfully obscured lustfulness.

My life has amounted to nothing.

It comes to something when a bunch of old biddies are getting more action than I am.

Fern, the experienced physiotherapist, who specialised in psychological trauma and EMDR therapy that preached affirmation practice to reduce self-sabotaging thoughts and self-exploration techniques to manage masturbation-induced anxiety and improve sexual health and relationships, is entirely blameable for my current sexless state.

If not for Fern's professional opinion (off the record), I'd be my normal, fun, hypersexual self, engaging in sexual activities with beautiful, wanton women on speed dial. At my beck and call. I wouldn't be lying in bed every morning, on my Tod, telling myself I am worthy of what I desire or turning down club whores most nights by virtue of a safe and healthy sex life.

My lips pursed.

No, it's wrong to blame Fern, the eccentric shrink, for my dry spell. I asked for help and the crazy old bint delivered, free of charge, out of the goodness of her heart. Affirmation therapy, as told by countless quotemasters online, is a world of self-awareness, self-acceptance and new beginnings. It's my shot at stability, normalcy and, most importantly, love. It means investing in the future and fighting for what's right.

So, I haven't had sex for a while—big deal. If I wrap my head around masturbation at some point in the future, I can feel good again. I can get to know my body better and master relaxation without vice. If I can be patient, loyal and faithful, I can, fingers crossed, guarantee a successful relationship with Emma Hughes that does not end in a gory bloodbath.

With a heavy heart, I stared into space, not blinking. I needed to prepare for the worst-case scenario, though. I have concentrated all efforts and resources in one area in the hope of a successful outcome when, in hindsight, I should have kept an open mind.

Emma is the end game for me.

But am I the long-term goal she wished to accomplish?

What if I straighten out my life for nothing?

A single dad of two kids is not what I predicted subsequent to Warren's life imprisonment. Falling for an unavailable woman is not part of the program. I should be living freely, the quintessential life of a bachelor, without restrictions, obligations, mental stress or emotional distress.

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