Anabel Unraveled

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Anabel Unraveled Page 7

by Amanda Romine Lynch


  “I could come with you,” Anabel offered.

  “That won’t be necessary, Miss Martin,” I cajoled. “I believe I’m familiar with your opinions on everything, but I would like to get to know your father a little better.”

  Jonathan had been watching this discourse with interest. When she slumped back in her chair, defeated, he frowned and said, “I hope Anabel hasn’t been too much of a bother for you, Mr. Sorensen. She’s a good girl, and she means well, but sometimes she forgets her place.”

  Ouch. That was cold. Anabel was fighting tears, so I relented.

  “I think very highly of your daughter, sir,” I acknowledged. “I regret that I won’t be spending more time with her. Nonetheless, business is business.”

  She looked at me through her teary eyes, unsure of whether or not she should believe me.

  “On second thought, perhaps you should come with us, Anabel,” I suggested. “You may be able to lend your own unique perspective to our discussion tomorrow.”

  “I’ll be there as well,” added Charlie. The look he gave me let me know that he intended to keep an eye on my interactions with her, and I shot him a glance, trying to communicate to him that I was not the problem where Anabel was concerned.

  Of course, now I know that I was only the start of her problems, and I completely regret the way that I treated Anabel Martin. I would like for the record to state that I, Jared Sorensen, completely failed this girl—this woman—who I was supposed to help out of a terrible situation, one that was destructive to her sense of well-being and mental health. I regret even more that the night after that conversation, I became intoxicated and forced myself on her, an act which is reprehensible and also one for which I know she will never forgive me.

  Chapter 8—Anabel

  Of course, the room exploded with Jared’s statement. Sam jumped out of his chair and began shouting at him, Charlie and Marilyn appeared out of nowhere and tried to put their arms around me, there were cops who had to keep people from rushing us, Ms. Fischer was banging her gavel . . . while I sat in my chair and mulled over Jared’s words.

  He was sorry he raped me, huh? I wasn’t expecting that. I didn’t know he could feel sorrow, that he actually cared that he had hurt another person.

  The thing is . . . well, let me back up. In order to get to that part of the story, we need to go through what happened in the hallway after dinner and what happened the next day. See, this is what I hated about Jared. He always had to rush to the end and leave out the details. In this case, the details were important. Unlike Jared, I understand that you can’t give away too much information at once. Like my big secret. I also haven’t even alluded too much to the death of my father, which you know is coming up. So, here’s some foreshadowing for you: Jared is about to rape me, my father is about to die, and things are about to fall spectacularly to pieces.

  But anyway, back to dinner. I had tears in my eyes and was fuming at Mr. Sorensen. Jared. He hadn’t liked the way I had behaved and in spite of swearing up and down that he cared about me, he was going to punish me by telling Sam everything was fine and just leave me in this godforsaken hell-hole. Can you see why I was so upset? I don’t even remember what we ate that night; I just remember that I had it in my head that it was necessary to get to the phone before Jared. I had to call my brother and tell him that sending Jared Sorensen had been a huge mistake, that Sam had made a drastic lapse in judgment when hiring a rat bastard like the snake sitting across from me to work for him, and that he had to get me off this island. Or I was going to become crazy. I probably already was crazy.

  As soon as I could, I excused myself from the dinner table and made a dash for my room. I wanted to go in there, lock the door, and blast the most depressing music I could find. Maybe watch Bridget Jones’ Diary.

  I guess I should mention that the end really was in sight for me. Despite my mother’s poor choices at the end of her life, she had left me a significant amount of money in a trust fund, which was mine the moment I turned twenty-one. When I had that money I could pay for my own transportation off the island, which my father refused to do. Jonathan was, of course, opposed to me leaving, and I worried that even when I had the funds to leave, he would find a way to keep me there. As I stamped down the hall toward my shelter, all sorts of thoughts ran through my head. Even though I had initiated everything on the top of the piazza, Jared’s response to me—and mine to him—frightened me. A lot. It also hurt me the way he had acted at dinner, blowing me off. I shook my head. I couldn’t let him get to me; after all, I was the one who was supposed to be using him. But then I reconsidered. What on earth was I doing, making pretend advances at some guy who was more than ten years older than me? I was far too inexperienced with men to be indulging in this insanity. This was the sort of behavior that gave my father justification for preventing me from attending college! This was the sort of behavior that would leave me dead in a gutter!

  I then had another horrifying realization. “And now I’m justifying his lunacy?” I started to bang my head into the wall.

  “Stop that.”

  I didn’t even turn around. “Hi, Daddy.”

  “What are you playing at, Anabel?” My father came up next to me. “I saw your exchange with him. I even watched the security tape of you two going into Cottage 4.”

  “Yes, God forbid I follow your instructions and I do what you tell me to do. You told me to show him around. I did that!” I glared at him with my full fury. “Yes, we went into the cottage. But there are security cameras in there, too, so you saw that nothing went on between us that wasn’t perfectly kosher!”

  “Perhaps you’ve forgotten where else there are cameras? Not to mention other people looking around and watching?”

  I felt the color drain from my face.

  “Anabel! What on earth were you thinking?” The vein was really throbbing now.

  I crossed my arms and exhaled, leaning against the door. “You really want to know what I was thinking, DAD?” I pushed open the door to my room. “I’m a girl. Jared likes girls. So, I figured I had a shot, and I was thinking that maybe if I slept with him, he’d get me off this awful island. BECAUSE I HATE IT HERE! I HATE IT, AND I’M SICK OF YOU, AND I WISH YOU WOULD JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!” I started crying. “For once, Daddy, I wish you would think about what your choices do to me every single day. I’m lonely. I’m afraid I will never get away from here, and all I want to do is get as far away from you as possible.” I choked back a sob. “I hate being here so much. I’m going to bed. Goodnight.” And I walked into my room and closed and locked the door. Then I threw myself on the bed and sobbed hysterically for a few moments. I had visions of myself as a middle-aged spinster who didn’t even have a cat, living with my father. I prayed to God that He would find a way to get me out of here.

  True to form, about two minutes later he started knocking on the door. “I told you to leave me alone,” I called.

  “Well it’s been awhile since you said that, so I thought maybe you had changed your mind. Women do stuff like that,” asserted Jared.

  I opened the door and stared at him. “Are you serious?”

  And he gave me a wolfish grin. “May I come in?”

  Chapter 9—Anabel

  I started to feel sick. No, no, this wasn’t good. I caught Sam’s eye and he nudged our lawyer, as was the signal, and our lawyer asked to take a break.

  I hurried down the hall to the bathroom, and threw up three times. When I was through, I walked over to the mirror and stared at myself. Then I slowly unbuttoned my coat and took a look at my belly.

  I couldn’t hide it for much longer. I was four months pregnant, almost five, and I was definitely showing. The morning sickness had not subsided as the doctor said it would, and any sort of weird smell triggered the nausea. Thinking about Jared coming to my bedroom that night made me sick to my stomach, and without a clear course of action, my desperation was becoming greater. Sam’s advice the other day had been to stand up straight to hide
it, but the baby was growing. I didn’t know who he thought he was kidding. It had sure been easy for Matt to spot it, I reflected. Today the dress that I was wearing clung to my belly and made no effort to hide the fact that there was a baby in there.

  So here it was. I was carrying Jared’s child. One time, apparently, is all that it takes. Sighing, I studied my reflection. I was so pale. I splashed some water on my face and was drying it off, willing myself to hold it together, when Marilyn barged in. “Annie, are you okay? Sam said to leave you alone, but I saw your face go all white and—oh my goodness!” She gaped at my stomach. “Please tell me that’s not what I think it is.”

  I stared at her. “Go on, ask me.”

  She swallowed. “Are you . . . Annie, are you pregnant?”

  “No, just super fat.” I threw away the paper towel and turned to face her. “You can’t tell anyone. Please. I’m not ready yet.”

  “Well you can’t hide it forever . . . that bump is only going to get bigger,” she stated matter-of-factly. “Besides, wearing your coat all day long is going to make you even more uncomfortable. I wondered why you were doing that.” She hugged me, but I stood limp in her arms, unwilling to return her embrace. Marilyn knowing caused all sorts of complications that I didn’t quite know how to deal with. She smoothed my hair. “Oh sweetheart, you poor thing . . . is this baby—”

  “Yes, it’s Jared’s. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know that his spawn is making my breasts sore and my ankles swell and is the reason I can’t keep any food down.” Tears pricked at my eyes. “Marilyn, what am I going to do? As much as my brother wants to pretend otherwise, I can’t hide this for much longer, and when this comes out things are going to be so much worse for all of us!” I exhaled, reminding myself it was important to breathe.

  “So you’re going to keep it?”

  Being asked this question made me angry. “I’m going to take this opportunity to remind you that my mother kept my brother. Besides, it’s a bit late for that.”

  “I see,” she told me, but I could tell she didn’t.

  “But at some point I have to tell Jared, and Sam already wants to kill him, and who knows how he will react.” I ranted in such a fashion for at least a few more minutes, until I stopped crying and while my eyes were very red, I was no longer sniffing.

  Marilyn looked at me with loving eyes, the same way she had looked at me when I was a little girl, and she squeezed my hand. “It’ll be okay, honey,” she promised.

  I managed a small smile. “I don’t see how,” I contended. “You are right though. I am extremely uncomfortable wearing this stupid coat every day.”

  “You know,” she commented, “hiding this isn’t going to make it any better. In fact, I think it’s making it worse.”

  “What are you suggesting? That I prance in there and show off the baby bulge for the entire world to see?”

  Marilyn attempted to smile at me. “I merely think it would help you to not keep it to yourself any longer.”

  I looked in the mirror, watching the red start to fade away. I straightened my shoulders and then said, “You know what? You’re right,” I smiled. “Why should I be afraid of this? He can’t hurt me anymore. I may as well tell him right now!” Over Marilyn’s protests that perhaps I ought to think this over, I slung my coat over my arm, blocking my stomach, and I marched down the hallway and came into the hearing room.

  Matt saw me, and I saw his face change when he noticed I wasn’t wearing my jacket. He looked like he might try and stop me, but I glared at him full force and he took a step back. I nodded at him and walked to the front, trying not to lose my nerve.

  Jared was talking to his lawyer, and Sam was hovering nearby. I walked up behind Jared and tapped him on the back. He turned around, surprised to see me. “Hey,” he got out.

  I smiled. I hadn’t been sleeping well and was probably delirious. “Hi Jared, how are you?”

  “I’m fine,” he responded. “Anabel, are you alright?”

  “Well, no, I’m not, Jared. I need to tell you something.” I was grinning like a fool.

  He smiled back cautiously, probably surprised I was making an attempt to be civil. “Well okay, do you want to go somewhere and we can talk, because—”

  “No, right here is fine.” But then, staring into his eyes, I lost my resolve.

  “You know what, I’m sorry, I can’t do this,” I turned to go, but he caught my arm.

  “Now hang on a minute,” he demanded. “You and I aren’t done here, you know.”

  “Let go of me!” I shrieked, and as I yanked myself away from him I dropped my coat. And that was when he saw my stomach.

  “Anabel,” he gasped, his eyes wide, “what is that?”

  I giggled, the hysteria in me rising. “What do you think it is, Jared? It’s been almost five months since you, well . . .” I trailed off.

  He was staring at me like he’d never seen me before. “Don’t play around. Are you saying that—?”

  There was nothing to be done now. “Well, now you know. Jared, you knocked me up.”

  I heard a few gasps and my brother was staring at me, shaking his head. Some of the press people, who had been allowed into the hearing room during the recess, pulled out their cameras and started snapping away. I turned so they could get a full view of my swollen abdomen and beamed at the cameras. My life had turned into a circus; I may as well have a little fun.

  That was when Jared grabbed my arm and pulled me back toward him. “I don’t believe this.”

  “Well believe it, sugar dumpling, you are my baby daddy. I think it’s a girl.” Insanity caused me to start giggling again. The situation really was kind of funny, I thought, and the look of intense horror on Jared’s face was giving me a sort of perverse pleasure. Good. He should suffer everything that I did from the moment I realized my period was late to having to ask my sister-in-law to buy me a pregnancy test to all of the physical discomfort that ailed me on a daily basis.

  “But Anabel, we only had the one time, and—”

  “Let me explain something,” I bellowed at him. “My date of conception was April 26—the one and only time in my life that I have had sexual intercourse. So apparently, Jared, taking my virginity was not enough for you, and you just had to leave a memento for me to remember you by!” I was angry now. Sam appeared at my side.

  “I think this discussion should continue outside of the hearing,” he hissed at the both of us. “Sorensen, you can come to dinner with us tonight. You know that we’re staying at Blair House, you may meet us around six and we will discuss this.” He yanked my arm and pulled me back to our table. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you. I really don’t, Anabel. I want to kill you right now. We agreed to keep this quiet—”

  “Marilyn saw my stomach,” I explained. “It was only a matter of time.” He looked like he wanted to retort, but we were interrupted by the Committee filing back into the room. “I am tired of lying about things, Sam.” I leaned back in my chair. “This whole thing is tearing at my heart, and maybe you can go on with the deception, but I can’t.”

  Ms. Fischer retook her seat. “Where were we?”

  “Ma’am?” I stood up.

  “Yes, Miss Martin?”

  “I just wanted to let everyone know that I’m pregnant.” My brother let out an audible groan, and I heard more murmurs throughout the room. I didn’t care. My life was spiraling out of control at an alarming rate, and this was my poor effort to at least pretend I was in charge. “Jared Sorensen is the father, in case there was any doubt, and I predict the baby will be born sometime in January.” I retook my seat. “That’s all.”

  She rubbed her eyes. “Is there anything else you wish to share with us, Miss Martin?”

  I contemplated this. “No, not today, I don’t think,” I conceded. I turned to my brother. “Do you have anything, Sam?”

  He shook his head and stared at the table. I smiled up at Ms. Fischer. “I think we’re all set, ma’am.”

 
“Very good. Mr. Sorensen?”

  Chapter 10—Jared

  “I’m sorry about the trouble I caused you with your father,” I apologized.

  Anabel rubbed her eyes. “It’s okay. I’m used to it.” She grinned. “Don’t worry. There aren’t any cameras in here.”

  “No? I’m surprised.” And comforted. I didn’t want to think about how Jonathan would respond if he found me in his daughter’s room.

  “My father promised me that he wouldn’t put any in, but there are some in the library, so let’s stay out of there.” She settled back on her bed. “What do you want?”

  “Anabel,” I sighed, “what’s going on with you? One moment you seem fine, and then the next you’re kissing me, and then the next moment you’re spurning me, and—”

  “You broke my trust,” she snapped. “I just wanted to put you in your place.”

  I almost laughed out loud at her, but then I thought better. So I switched tactics. “Alright, so you were mad at me. I get it. But what did I do to offend your delicate sensibilities to the point where you felt the need to shove your tongue down my throat?”

  “Why, so you can learn how drive women to these extremes?” she retorted.

  Now I did laugh at her. “You’re feisty, Anabel. I like that.”

  She glared at me. “I was angry because I saw you going through my personal effects without my prior consent. How’s that?”

  “You mean your desk. There’s a good reason for that.”

  “I would love to hear it,” she murmured, softening. “Because I’m pretty sure that’s a major invasion of my privacy, and you had no need to sneak around. I would have shown you if you had just asked.” She pushed some hair out of her eyes.

 

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