76 Haunted by the past

Life, some say is a roller coaster, if you fail to hold the reins tightly, you’re bound to go adrift.

While Douro slept, the luxury of a good night’s rest was too expensive to purchase. Don Carlo laid on his king-sized bed, lost in contrition of his past. The times he made silly excuses to avoid Addison, rejected his calls, and refrained from visiting.

He would grab his head furiously, hitting the sides of his bed as he swiveled in anguish. His eyes grew watery, pained to the core. At some point, he would curse and swear on himself casting blames on himself, and asking rhetorical questions,

“How could you?” He cried, “what were you thinking? Your son needed you? You rejected his calls you despised him! No no no…” He beat himself as he cried. “he was just a boy, a little boy… ”

His mind strayed to his many affairs with his secretaries as well as other ladies which he’d meet in cocktail parties and clubs.