Fallacy

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Fallacy Page 25

by K. A. Berg


  15 years earlier

  Thank God that stupid student government meeting was canceled. I have a huge paper due on Moby Dick next week, and really need today to make sure my outline is in order. I really hate this story, and I could use all the time I can get to make sure I get a good grade on this paper. I’m not going to let something like a boring ass book written hundreds of years ago get in the way of me getting an A. No matter how much I have to struggle to keep my eyes open while reading.

  I’m going to be early for dinner with Daddy, but I’ll just work in his office until he’s ready to go. We have a standing dinner date every Thursday. I usually walk to his office to meet him after my meeting, but I’m sure it’s no big deal to wait in his office for a little bit until he’s ready to go.

  My mind is still focusing on how to pull this paper off without going insane when I get off the elevator. Daddy’s office is on the top floor of the building. Being the owner of a huge company has its benefits that way. I’ve always loved it in here. The view of the city from up here is spectacular. I like the feeling of looking down on one of the busiest cities in the world. You can see all the parts working individually and together all at the same time.

  I wonder where Jeanette is. My father’s secretary is always there at her desk to greet people when they get off the elevator. Maybe she has the day off?

  I don’t give it another thought as I walk into Daddy’s office.

  Oh my God! I’m going to be sick.

  Daddy has Jeanette bent over the side of the black leather sofa in his office, her tan skirt hiked up around her waist, shirt unbuttoned, bra pulled down under her boobs, exposing them. His pants are down around his ankles, his belt clinking on the marble tiles as he moves behind her.

  I gag and try to hold back my puke quietly, but I’m unsuccessful. My near vomiting alerts Daddy to my presence.

  “Oh shit,” I hear Jeanette gasp.

  “Quinn,” he grunts. “I’ll be out in a minute. Wait downstairs.”

  That’s it? I just caught my father fucking his secretary, and all he has to say is “Wait downstairs”? And he thinks I’m going to hang around and wait for him?

  I bolt from his office, tears streaming down my face, back to the elevator as quickly as possible. I stab the “down” button repeatedly as I try to hold back the intense urge to vomit in the plants sitting beside the elevator doors.

  I wipe my face on the sleeve of my uniform jacket as a hundred different thoughts run through my mind. How could he do this to Mom? I have to tell her. There’s no way she’d ever know otherwise. I never thought my father was capable of something so awful, I’m sure she doesn’t either. But how do I tell my mother what I just saw? She’s going to be devastated. Her entire life is dedicated to my father and making him happy.

  I decide to walk home and clear my head. It’s amazing how the world continues to spin even when yours in falling apart. The cool air hits the wetness covering my face. I have no control over my tears. I can only imagine Mom is going to want a divorce when she finds out. My whole world is about to be turned upside down because Daddy couldn’t keep it in his pants. I just don’t understand. He lives a happy life. My parents’ marriage seems to be perfect. I always pictured my life would be just like theirs when I got older. Beautiful house, successful business—whenever Daddy retires—and a husband who adores me. Just like I thought Daddy adored Mom. Boy, was I wrong.

  I don’t remember much from my walk home, but before I know it, I’m standing in front of our brownstone looking at it as if I’ve never seen it before. Everything it always represented to me has been false. All of my happy memories tainted. A black stain on my life. I feel cheated. How do I process this? Why can’t I go back in time and choose to study at school before going to Daddy’s office? How am I supposed to walk up these stairs and break my mother’s heart? I don’t have a choice. She needs to know this. She can’t let my father continue to make a fool out of her.

  Begrudgingly I walk up the steps into the house. Setting my backpack down in the entryway, I hurry up the stairs, yelling, “Mooom!”

  “In the kitchen,” she answers. “What are you doing home? You’re supposed to be having dinner with your father,” she asks as I barrel into the kitchen.

  “Oh my God, Mom. I’m so sorry. I can’t believe he’d do that to you,” I cry. A new round tears leaks down my face and mixes with the last.

  Pulling me into a hug she asks, “What are you talking about, Quinn?”

  “Daddy…Jeanette…” I squeak out between my sobs.

  “Honey, I can’t understand what you’re saying. Is everyone okay? Did something happen to your father?” she questions, concern evident in her voice.

  “Yes, something happened to Daddy. He’s lost his mind. I walked in on him and Jeanette,” I tell her as I try to dig deep for some composure.

  “You’re still not making sense,” she says, pulling away from me to look me in the eyes.

  “I saw Daddy fucking Jeanette. Is that clear enough?” I blurt out with more anger than I should. It’s not my mother I’m angry with, but did she really need for me to say it out loud to make my point?

  “Enough, young lady!” my father bellows from behind me. I hadn’t even heard him come in.

  “Mom has the right to know what you’ve been doing,” I spit, utterly disgusted by the sight of him. I’ll never look at that piece of shit the same again.

  “This isn’t any of your concern,” he says dismissively.

  “You destroying our family is my concern.” How can he be so cavalier about this?

  “Nothing is destroyed. Cookie, please explain to your daughter the ways of the world. I can’t be bothered with her childish nonsense right now.” He doesn’t even bother to look at my mother or me while giving his demands. And just like that, he walks away, pulling his cell phone from his pocket as if nothing ever happened. He can't even be bothered to use my mother’s name. He calls her Cookie. I’ve always thought the nickname was a cute term of endearment, but now I wonder if he calls everyone that so he doesn’t use the wrong name.

  “What the hell is he talking about, Mom?” I ask, wanting an explanation. “Ways of the world?”

  “Watch your mouth, Quinn. That’s twice in five minutes you’ve cursed at me. I understand you’re upset, but I’m your mother, and you will speak to me as such.”

  She’s worried about my foul language right now? You’ve got to be shitting me.

  “Seriously?” I snap, furious by her lack outrage. “Whatever. Can you explain what he’s talking about?” I ask again, trying hard to censor the words coming out my mouth.

  “I’m well aware of your father’s extracurricular activities. I have been for a long time. Men will be men, Quinn. Everyone does it; just no one talks about it,” she says flippantly as if she’s trying to save her dignity by passing off affairs as an everyday occurrence.

  “That’s not how it’s supposed to be, Mom. Marriage is supposed to be something sacred. How can you just do nothing knowing Daddy is out doing whomever he likes? How can you not stand up for yourself?” How could a woman know her husband is cheating and just accept it?

  Spinning around, she steps closer to me and points a finger in my face, “You’re fooling yourself if that is what you believe. You know nothing about the real world. This is how things are. You better start getting used it now. This is your future. Accept it like every other woman has. Now enough is enough. I need to let Sophia know this evening’s dinner plans have changed.”

  She just walks away as though my whole perception of life hasn’t been entirely altered. She has to be brain-washed if she thinks this is an ordinary thing. I have seen the way the world works, and I don’t know anyone else who is avidly cheating on their spouses. I need to get out this house. It’s like the Twilight Zone in here. The parents I thought I knew don’t exist.

  My mother has another thing coming if she thinks this is what my future looks like. I have a boyfriend who loves me. Love does
exist. I’ll never allow myself to be like her.

  “I’m going to Ethan’s,” I say as I walk back toward the front door. I grab my backpack and slam the door behind me, not waiting for a response.

  I practically sprint the seven blocks to Ethan’s. I need him to bring me back down to Earth and confirm my parents are officially insane. I text him from a block away, letting him know I’ll be there earlier than I anticipated.

  He’s waiting for me at the door.

  “What’s wrong, babe?” he asks as I walk up the steps.

  I spend the next twenty minutes explaining to him everything that’s happened since I left school.

  “Babe, it’s really not a big deal,” he says with the same high-handed attitude as my father.

  “What the hell are you talking about? Yes, it is,” I yell, outraged. What the hell is wrong with everyone today?

  “Quinn, my dad has been banging his assistant for years. Paul’s dad is doing the maid, and Suzette’s mom has been sleeping with the pool boy for years. Do you know anyone else who has a pool boy in the winter? It’s just what happens. You should probably get used to it now,” he explains while reaching for a textbook. He sounds just like my mother.

  “You agree with this?” I ask dumbfounded.

  He shrugs his shoulder, “It’s just the way it is.”

  “How many times have you cheated on me?” I ask. The thought never crossed my mind before today. I never saw myself asking that question. Couldn’t have imagined this moment.

  “You’re the one I love,” he says hesitantly. “None of the others mattered to me.”

  My chest burning with heartache, I grab my backpack and stumble out the door, fighting back tears. I have to get out of here before I let him see how much he just hurt me. I want to go back and ask a million question, starting with how long has he been cheating? Does everyone know about it too? Has he been making a complete fool of me for the last year? I gave him my fucking virginity, thinking we were in love. You’re supposed to give it to someone special. Ethan’s not special. He’s an asshole. Was he even a virgin our first time like he said? Those answers will do nothing but break my heart even more. In two hours my life has been completely upheaved.

  How could I have been so blind to what has been going on all around me? I feel foolhardy and dumb. Am I the only one who is shocked by all of this?

  I want no part in any of it. Being cheated on is something I won’t tolerate. I don’t have to get used a damn thing. This is something I will never be okay with. No way will I allow myself to be like these people. Never. I’ll erect a wall big enough, no one will get through it.

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Alex

  I just stare at her in disbelief at what she’s just told me. It wasn't at all what I was expecting to leave her mouth. You’ve got to be kidding me.

  “That? That is the reason you’re so fucked up?” I laugh incredulously.

  “I don’t know what’s funny about anything I just told you,” she yells at me. She’s obviously pissed I don’t find her story as life changing as she’s made it out to be. Here I think she went through something similar to Ashley and found a boyfriend in bed with another chick. Or even something like Tiff and had her girlfriend of many years leave her to sleep around.

  “Yes, there is,” I begin. “You’ve avoided getting close to any man because you have daddy issues, and some little boy couldn’t keep it in his pants in high school. It’s a bit cliché, don’t you think? I never took you for a cliché kind of a girl, angel.”

  Shaking her head, she argues back. Her face red in anger and fire’s burning from her eyes. “I don’t have daddy issues, and I’m not a cliché, asshole.”

  “Let’s add denial into the mix and make this little tale a bit more pathetic,” I say, trying to point out the fact she’s only kidding herself. I don’t care if I'm an asshole. It’s the truth. Quinn always tells everyone the truth even when they don’t want to hear it. I’m returning the favor.

  “Fuck you, Alex. I’m not in denial and I sure as shit am not pathetic,” she shrieks. “You want to talk about pathetic? Who’s the one knocking on the door of the woman who left his ass two years ago, for the second time in a month?”

  Ignoring her comment, I press her a little more for the answer she hasn’t given me. “I still don’t have a response as to why you left me. Nothing in your little tale about Daddy’s-an-asshole tells me what it has to do with me.”

  “You’re just like the rest of them. A selfish asshole who only cares about himself. A selfish asshole who thinks he can cheat on a woman, and it’s okay because she doesn’t leave his sorry ass. You think just because they get away with it, it makes it okay,” she screams at me.

  I’ve never seen this side of Quinn. It’s as if she’s possessed. As if she’s been waiting to say those words to me for years. Her face reddens with fury as the words are spewing from her mouth, her fists clenched at her sides. But I still don’t know why she thinks I feel this way.

  I absorb what she’s said and try to process it, but it all it does is rile me up more. What the hell is she talking about? None of that shit is true. Nothing makes fucking sense. “This is why you ended us? Because you think I’m a cheating asshole or I’m okay with being a cheating asshole? When did I ever do or say anything to give you that idea?”

  ”The night before Ashley and Tanner’s wedding… You were defending your stupid friend and said it was his wife’s fault because she stood by him when he got caught with a couple of groupies. You said you’ve seen the most happily married guys go down because the ass is easy. If that doesn’t paint me a clear picture, I don’t know what does,” she spits at me. I rack my brain trying to think back to that night. I vaguely remember what conversation she’s talking about, but I can’t recall my exact words. Even so, I know whatever I said, she’s twisting to make the words fit how she wants them to.

  My emotions are seething out of me. “You painted the picture how you wanted it to be. Want to know what I think?”

  “Not really. I want you to fucking leave, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me anyway,” she says stepping toward the door almost as if she’s trying to figure out how to get me out of here without having to hear what I have to say, but her body language is completely contradictory. Her hands aren’t clenched in fists anymore. Instead, her fingers are digging into her arms as if she’s afraid. Her eyes aren’t glaring daggers at me anymore but look more fearful, or maybe it’s confusion, but either way, they aren’t spitting fire. It seems as though she really wants to hear what I have to say, probably has for a long while, but she’s too scared it might break this carefully constructed delusion she’s created.

  “I think it’s time to grow up, Quinn. You’re a scared little girl whose heart was broken by her daddy. The first man you ever loved broke you, and you continue to let him. This has got to be the most stupid reason I’ve ever heard for someone being afraid to commit. For a very smart woman, you do incredibly dumb things. I’m sorry you grew up with a bunch of assholes. I’m sorry their opinions and actions have made you this frightened woman.

  “You took something totally unrelated to us and twisted it to fit this mold you have of men. I think you got scared. What we had was real. I’m the first person you let get close to you since that day. It scared the shit out of you. But instead of talking to me about your fears, you ran. You broke my heart and didn’t look back. It makes you just like your father. It makes you just like the one person you hate most in this world.”

  “I’m not afraid of commitment,” she says, retaliating by raising her left hand and wiggling her finger drawing my attention to her engagement ring.

  “Yes, you are. You’re not committing to something real. You’re committing to a lie. I know you, angel. I understand how you think. You think if you go in not expecting anything, just helping a friend and getting your father off your back, then there’s no way for you to get hurt. Which makes you like your mother. He’s already chang
ing you. You’re nowhere near the Quinn you used to be. You’re doing things you don’t like, you’re not doing the things you love, you’re pretending. You’re changing into someone you’d never like to marry someone you shouldn’t be marrying.”

  “That’s not true. And what the hell would you know? I’m not the same person I was two years ago. I’ve grown up. I’ve changed.”

  “And that’s a damn shame. Because I thought the woman you were was perfect. Flaws and all. I never wanted to change you. I never wanted you to be anything other than yourself. I loved you exactly as you were,” I say, making sure she hears every word of it.

  When she doesn’t respond, I go a little further. “And I know very well how much you’ve changed. Our friends don’t even recognize you anymore. Everything that made you, you, is gone.”

  I turn and walk out the door as fast as I can before I say anything more. There’s no point in talking to her about this right now. She’s lost her damn mind. I’ve said everything I needed to. She knows how I feel; what she chooses to do with it is up to her.

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Jordan

  Looking around the table, I find myself feeling incredibly blessed.

  My father doesn’t have too much time left. We know this. all he has ever wanted for me was to be happy. I’m glad I’m able to give him a sense of calm before he goes.

  I sit here quietly at the table while he and my mother talk animatedly with Quinn. We’ve been coming over every Sunday for dinner with them. Quinn’s idea actually.

  Watching as Quinn laughs at whatever corny joke my dad just told, her eyes fill with warmth for him. And he looks back at her with a love of his own radiating. My parents have really grown to love her.

  I think I may love her too.

  When that happened, I’m not exactly sure, but I think it was sometime after we agreed to get married. She might not have done this without her father being a total jerk, but once she did, something changed.

 

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