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Dear reader, this is my 1,000th story. Thank you for the journey. Newsletter coming later.
I sat on my bed, but it wasn’t my bed.
This home was exactly like mine, but it wasn’t mine at all, and then it was because it felt more like my home than Maine did.
I was baffled.
This Kenyan version felt like our home before Charlie’s sickness befell him - a happier place. The air conditioning was silent and deliciously chilling, but the bedroom felt warm, with a familiar presence.
It felt like my husband was near—youthful and vibrant, and the room exuded an aroma that smelled like we had recently made love.
I glanced at Jeremy and saw he wasn’t looking at me, so I studied him carefully and recognized more of my husband’s features and quirks—a chiseled jawline, how he bent over to unpack my things, and the way his broad, muscular shoulders rippled.
I looked away again, feeling ashamed that I had smiled approvingly, and I was glad he hadn’t seen me checking him out.
When he caught my eye, I glanced away.
“Have I behaved inappropriately, Jess?”
“Did you do precisely as my husband asked you?”
“Yes.”
“Then you have done nothing wrong.”
“Good.”
“That being said, Jeremy.”
“Oh.”
“I would love it if you would dial down the part where you are hitting on me, please.”
“Understood.”
With my essential unpacking complete, Jeremy shuffled to the door, clearly trying to make me feel safer by distancing himself. He pointed at my bed, scaring me that he was about to invite himself in there.
“Charlie left you a note. It’s on the nightstand, Jess.”
“Thank you. Can I lock the bedroom door when you leave? I don’t know you, Jeremy, and I don’t feel safe. I’m sorry.”
“Of course, Jess. I’m three doors down the hall if you need me. Your housekeeper is in the next room along from that.”
“Thank you.”
I have a housekeeper? Are there differences here, then?
I sat on my bed and cried, confused about why my husband, a loyal and loving man for thirty years, had done something so monumental in absolute secrecy. Charlie wasn’t deranged when he built the house, which I could just about grasp, but as for Jeremy? I couldn’t figure him out or why my husband had thrown me a curveball from beyond the grave.
I sipped my coffee and noticed Charlie’s note folded neatly in half, with my name beautifully handwritten in purple ink—his favorite color. I picked it up, sniffed back my tears, and slipped on my reading glasses.
Dearest Jess, welcome home.
Before you scold me, my love, please hear me out. This is your home, as is our place in Maine. I replicated our paradise for you here… for us to have a second chance. You are free to come and go as you please, and I suggest that if you settle in, please invite our family.
East Africa is the cradle of humanity and Homo Sapiens’ first adventure. There is something spiritual about this region; amid the beasts, a cauldron of life exists, a wilderness where it all began, and the most enormous sparkling night sky you will ever see - where our original selves slept and gazed at the same stars we see now.
Here, it is believed that Ngai created the world and put the first man, Gikuyu, and woman, Mumbi, on it. I am sure you will hear about this story, which inspired me in part.
I want you to live on for both of us and do those things we discussed and some we joked about. Please have the fun we would or might have had. Live and love here, or, if that is too much for you, go home to Maine and live your best life.
A word about Jeremy - First, I am sorry to have played out my fun. I know you would never cuckold me in life, and you will undoubtedly remain loyal until you die without my insistence to the contrary. I thank you for the former because I doubt turning a cuckold fantasy into reality would have worked for me either, but then, you knew that about me and were steadfast in your fidelity.
About the latter - please don’t waste your beauty and life force on my memory. I am gone, and you must continue, although we may be reunited one day - I can hope for that.
It is my wish (subject to your agreement) that you enjoy a life adventure (including sexual if you wish). After trawling a billion people for five years, Jeremy cost me nearly one million dollars to discover, and you won’t believe how I found him. He is the closest man to me on Earth by character, looks, physique, and temperament.
I like Jeremy very much and wish to live vicariously through him with you—a second chance at love.
Please consider taking Jeremy as your husband - or just as a bull to bed if you wish.
Now, if you want more love, companionship, or sex than Jeremy can offer, he has a list of twenty-five potential lovers for you. Some are men, others women—all are exquisite and available to you. Each potential lover has been medically screened and interviewed for their substance, style, and lovemaking prowess.
What happens next is up to you, my sweetheart. Let’s have an adventure, or you can pack, sell up, and return to Maine. The choice is yours.
My love as always and forever… Charlie.
“Fucking hell, Charlie! What have you done?”
I felt lightheaded, rolled back on the bed, and saw stars, so I closed my eyes and counted to ten, hoping the facsimile of my home would vanish.
But it didn’t.
Next Chapter:
Now that is a man with a grand plan. Not to mention the money to pursue it to perfection. He admitted the first part was for fun but sure got her attention with that one line about being her new husband. With all he has assembled she really does have a lot of decisions to make. The letter did clear up a lot about what his expectations were at the time he built this place and put everything together. Now she has some very deep soul searching to do in order to figure out what she really wants not just what is expected of her. Great story, we are moved to each next chapter naturally by the story, what an exciting tale, well crafted by a very creative mind. Thank you, Kate.
KATE it's a little different but we'll see what happens. I trust your writing it's never bad just better sometimes.