by Sadie Grubor
"Calm down, dear." My father reaches out a hand, but she pushes it away. Not used to this response from her, his eyes widen.
"I will not calm down. That...that…bitch doesn't deserve to be a mother." She loses her temper. "No offense, Damon, but I just can't believe she would do that to her own son. And what about Vivianne? What does she have to say for herself?"
I shrug again.
"She doesn't have anywhere else to go and needs the money." Groaning, I rub my face. "Look, I didn't choose her and my mother won't release her from employment."
"Even after you told her about the night?" Scarlett's voice drips with disgust.
I nod.
"I have no choice but to keep Vivianne around. She only deals with me when I absolutely find it necessary. She isn't privy to information. I didn't even let her in on why she had to go to Pittsburgh to get a baker. Though, I did love the look on her face when she realized she had to travel so far for a cake." The memory causes me to grin.
"I’ve always felt bad for that girl, given how you treated her." My father shakes his head. "Now I understand why you bark orders and snap at her. I'm surprised she hasn't quit."
"Me, too," I grumble, closing my eyes. In fact, I’d hoped my behavior would make her do that very thing. It hasn’t, obviously.
"I wonder why she hasn't," Heidi concurs. "I wouldn’t want to deal with that every day."
Opening my eyes, I focus on Scarlett. She's been quiet and deep in thought for a few moments, causing me to feel nervous. A movement out of the corner of my eye draws my attention away from a contemplative Scarlett.
Hugh makes it two feet from her before her head snaps, shooting a glare in his direction, and stopping him in his tracks.
"I'm still pissed at you." Her voice is calm, but sincere.
Taking her eyes from Hugh, she glances at me for the briefest of seconds before exiting the room. Hugh drops his chin and sighs.
"I just want to sleep," I croak.
"Of course," Heidi coos, stepping to my side and taking my arm. Leading me to the spare bedroom, she leaves me with a kiss to my cheek and some final words.
"Things will work out. Give it time." She smiles before turning away.
I toss and turn on the bed for an hour, my mind unwilling to let me rest. For the next two hours, I alternate between sitting and pacing. My mind is a swirl of Rebecca, DJ, Vivianne, my mother, Olivia, and Alex. Guilt and pain have resurrected from the depths of my black spotted soul, constricting my chest and making it hard to breathe.
Exhaustion finally claiming me, I fall onto the bed and my dreams are even more devastating than the night before. Not only do I relive the night of my biggest loss, but my subconscious recreates the night with Olivia and Alex as the stars of my nightmare.
Sweaty and gasping, I bolt up in the dark room. Once my physical self realizes it was just a dream, I collapse back onto the bed and steady my breaths.
After a shower, I dress and follow sounds and smells to the kitchen. Upon my entrance, the room falls silent.
"How are you feeling this morning?" My father speaks first.
Shrugging, I take the cup of coffee Heidi holds out to me and sit on the stool between Hugh and my father.
"Well, you look better." Heidi smiles and returns to cooking.
I sip at the hot black liquid and savor the way it warms my throat and chest. Surveying the room, I notice one absence.
"Where's Scarlett?" I direct the question to Hugh.
"She left this morning," he replies, his face drawn tight and sadness filling his eyes.
"I'm sorry." Guilt assaults me, knotting my stomach.
"It's my own doing. Not yours." Forcing a smile, he pats my shoulder.
"Eat up." Heidi slides a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast in front of Hugh, my father, and me.
We mumble ‘thank you’ in unison and eat in silence for a few minutes.
"Well, you look calmer, so I suppose you should go through your messages." My father slips my phone onto the counter next to my plate.
Excitement rushes through my body. I grasp the phone and turn it on.
"Thank you," I blurt as I start scrolling.
I find an unsurprising amount of voicemails, texts, and emails, but only one gets my immediate attention.
Olivia: We made it to Pittsburg safely.
A smile begins to spread on my lips, just knowing she thought about me enough to let me know they made it home okay. My smile drops when Marcus' name flashes across my screen.
"Hello?"
"Mr. Knyght?"
"Yes, Marcus."
"Sir, the papers were filed. You asked to be informed—"
"What?" I growl, teeth locking tightly against each other.
"Miss Harlow, sir, you asked we prepare, so I contacted a Pittsburgh associate to provide notice when the—"
"Damn it, Marcus, just get to the point," I grind out.
"The papers were filed with a rush order from her law firm this morning." He rushes the words.
Anguish tears through me, igniting a deeply hurt beast overflowing in sadness and anger.
I’m barely aware of the world as it falls away from around me, a haze of despair settling in. I toss my phone, shattering it against the wall as my pain roars out of me.
Rebecca.
Hands grip my shoulders. I spin and connect my fist to a jaw.
DJ.
Grabbing the stool I was sitting on, I throw it back.
My little lifeless boy.
Shouts fill the air, begging me to calm, but I'm too far gone. My mind is bombarded with the images of my past, my losses.
Guilt.
"Noo," I cry, dropping to my knees.
I cover my face with my hands, tears soaking through.
Guilt. Pain. Loss. Olivia. Alex. Pain. Loss. Guilt. White sheet covered gurneys. Pain. Loss. Too much loss.
More shouting swirled around me and heavy knocking filled the air.
Too much loss. Too much noise.
I drop my head to the floor and repeatedly hit my forehead against the hardwood, needing to get the images out.
Soon, dizziness takes hold and I slump to the floor in a heap of anguish. When I wake, the setting is familiar. White and mint green rooms, straps on my ankles and wrists, and the sound of whispers.
"Damon?" The familiar voice draws my attention. "Damon, can you talk to me?"
Blinking away my foggy vision, my eyes rest on Dr. Strikner.
"Talk to me, Damon."
"Leave me alone," I rasp.
"Well, at least I know you’re there." He smirks down on me.
A throb settles between my eyes. I reach up to rub, but find my hands are restrained.
"My head hurts."
"Smashing it on the floor can cause that," he quips. "Do you know what day it is?"
"Monday," I croak, and then clear my dry throat.
"I'm afraid it's Thursday."
"What?"
I focus wide eyes on him.
"We've had you sedated for three days because of your reluctance to cooperate."
He pulls a chair next to the bed. The screeching of the metal legs against the floor sends sharp pain through my skull.
"You’ll be coming to stay with me for a few days."
He settles into the chair.
"Just leave me alone." Groaning, I close my eyes.
"Don't you dare shut down on us again, Damon."
My eyes shoot open and land on Heidi.
"I won't let you…no, I won't let that conniving bitch, who doesn't deserve the title of mother, make you disappear again." Heidi's hand grasps my forearm and for a brief moment, I feel a maternal connection to Heidi.
All of the years I've been jealous of Hugh just because he has Heidi for a mother instead of a monster like mine, rush through my mind.
She places both hands on my face, putting us eye to eye. I hear my father scold her from the other side of the room.
"You are not your mother, Damon. You ar
e so much better than that. Don’t let that woman defeat you with all of her evil plotting. I love you and have seen such good and love from you."
Her eyes search my face and a strange sense of resolution settles in my chest, a determination I'd never quite felt in the past taking hold.
"Don't let her destroy you."
At her whisper, I smile. She returns it with one of her own.
After a week of intensive therapy sessions with psychoanalysts, who worked fervently to get into my mind and force me to deal with everything, I start to understand the effect my mother has had on me. It helped that my father kept her away from me. I also began to see the mistakes I'd made with Olivia and the regret I feel still lingers.
Due to my progress, I'm finally allowed to return home and work. With regularly scheduled appointments with Dr. Strikner and medications prescribed, I know I need to stick to the treatment this time if I want to attempt a real life again.
My first hurdle is Vivianne. Not caring what my mother says, or how much we have to pay to buy out her employment contract, today is the last day I'll deal with her. I step off the elevator, preparing for whispers and awkward looks regarding my absence.
On my way toward Vivianne's small office, not one person acts any differently. After the third person welcomes me back to work, I grow curious.
"Vacation," Scarlett states from behind me.
Turning around, just outside the door of my destination, I soften the look on my face.
"I'm so sorry, Scarlett."
She puts her hand up, silencing my apologies.
"Vivianne is also gone." She raises one sculpted eyebrow and crosses her arms over her chest, challenging me to argue.
"You beat me to it." I grin. "That was first on my list of things to take care of."
"Good." She returns a smile.
Worry tightens my chest thinking about the wedge I placed between her and Hugh.
"Have you spoken to Hugh? Please tell me I haven't ruined things between the two of you. I really couldn't forgive—"
"Of course I've spoken to him." She rolls her eyes. "I'm still mad at him and he has a lot of ass kissing to do, but for some odd reason, I love that man." She winks.
Relief relaxes my tense muscles.
"Do you still love me?" I playfully bat my lashes.
She narrows her eyes on me.
"I'm still angry with you. And it wasn't easy for me to remove that trash from the building either."
"I'm sorry I didn't handle Vivianne sooner."
"Damon, I know your mother is to blame for a lot of the past and present, but—"
"But I'm also to blame for my choices," I finish for her.
Her arms drop from her chest and she steps toward me.
"I spoke to Heidi and there's nothing I can say about her except your mother is unbelievably cruel."
She wraps her arms around me and squeezes. My arms come around to embrace her.
"Thank you," I whisper.
Leaning back, she looks up at me with confusion crinkling her eyes.
I give a small shrug. "I needed that."
The two things I dread most, but need to take care, happen the next day.
My personal cell rings, flashing the name of my lawyer's office, during a conference call. My stomach churns and I feel sick. What I'm about to do is going to take a lot for me to accomplish. Everything about it feels wrong for me, like the world will stop spinning and I’ll fall off the face of the Earth. Taking a deep breath, I answer with a heavy-hearted hello.
"Damon, we will need to act quickly. We sent the petition papers to your office and will need them signed and back before the end of today in order to—"
"That won't be necessary," I croak, feeling as if the wind has been punched out of me.
"I'm sorry?" He's confused and rightfully so.
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and then another. I need to do this.
"I only need the papers to complete the divorce and petition a custody arrangement for my son." Swallowing the lump in my throat, a familiar pain rises in my chest.
"I don't understand. I thought we were countering the—"
"Things have changed." I choke on the feeling of loss stinging my heart.
"I see." He pauses for a long moment. "I will send a petition for paternity and paternal rights, along with the marriage dissolution papers we will need to complete." He hesitates to end the call, probably waiting for me to change my mind again. "Okay, well, I'll have them over to you within the hour. If you can have them back before the end of business today, I can get everything filed tomorrow morning."
"Thank you." I end the call.
I know he's confused, but I don't care to explain my errors, faults, and dirty secrets.
With the way it feels to put a pen to the legal documents, I might as well sign the papers with my own blood. At completion, I feel drained and exhausted. Of course, my mother chooses then to use my office line to get in touch with me.
"This is Damon," I answer.
"This is your mother," she snips. "Why haven't you contacted me? I've tried to reach out to you repeatedly. I'm your mother for God's sake!"
"My mother?" I snort, humorlessly. "Why would a mother destroy everything for her child? Why would you want to do that to me, Mother? Why make me work with Vivianne and then throw her in Olivia's face? What do you want from me?"
"Don't raise your voice, Damon Knyght! I am your mother and you will show me respect," she huffs. "What you did to Rebecca was of your own doing, just like I told you before. As for Vivianne, what is this rumor about her having been fired? Should I remind you that she is contracted to my company through—?”
"Here, in MY company, she no longer has a position!" I slam a fist to my desk, feeling the sting crawl to my wrist. "I'm well aware her contract is with you as the sole employer, so she can report to your house and do whatever you wish of her. She isn't welcome here."
"How dare you?" she gasps.
"I learned from the best. You taught me well." I slam the phone into its cradle, never having felt freer in my life.
Three weeks of therapy sessions, I distract myself with family to avoid charging off to be with my wife and son. Scarlett enters my office with Hugh, my father, and Heidi. I smile, but the greeting falls when I take in their grim faces.
"What's going on?" I narrow my eyes.
"Damon, we need to speak with you." Dr. Strikner's voice surprises me. I hadn't seen him enter.
"What's this about?" I stand to walk around my desk. "I've been following my treatment plan to—”
"This isn't about your sessions, Damon." Dr. Strikner puts his hands out in front of him, palms facing me. "You are doing excellent. I'm only here for support."
Pausing at the corner of my desk, I study his face for something, anything that will give away their intentions.
"It's best if you sit and keep a calm head about you."
I hesitate for a moment before retaking my seat.
"Now, remember all the progress you've made." The doctor moves to the wall on my right and leans against it.
"What is this about?" I growl from annoyance.
"It's about your mother," my father states as he takes a seat in front of my desk.
"What about her? Is she ill?" My spine stiffens. Not because of fear, but because I feel nothing.
Heidi places herself on the arm of my father's chair. Hugh and Scarlett mimic their position in the opposite chair.
"Damon," Scarlett's voice wavers, "your mother, she…"
Scarlett looks to Hugh. He gives her a small nod. With a deep breath, she turns back to me.
"Your mother knew Vivianne."
Her eyes search mine and confusion furrows my brow.
"I know that. Mother was very familiar with VMG, of course she knew her."
"No, she knew her before the night Rebecca and DJ died. They were very well acquainted before that night."
What she says isn't processing or making sense.
I see something flash in Scarlett's eyes.
"Damon, she set you up that night. Your mother knew Vivianne very, very, very well. Well enough to set you up. To set you and Rebecca up."
Slowly, the realization of what my mother has schemed washes over me and I feel as if I'm drowning.
Olivia
Alfonso calls the night I return to discuss my request and to get further details about the visit. After telling him about the texts and voicemails, he wants copies of my phone records. A shiver creeps up my spine as I begin to understand how ugly this could get with Damon.
During the week after my return, Alfonso stops by twice for signatures. Felicity and Mercedes take turns staying at my apartment with me to provide emotional and moral support if Damon were to show up. However, there hasn’t been word from him since the day of my flight — no more texts, voicemails, or unannounced arrivals. As the days pass, I feel more and more confident he's leaving us alone. A smile graces my face while there is a small, painful twinge in my chest.
Two weeks since leaving New York, I find myself in a familiar routine — lying in bed, struggling to fall asleep, followed by restless and vivid dreams about Damon. What pisses me off the most is that they aren't angry dreams. These dreams are of us together as a family, sitting in his living room with Alex. Or of just the two of us in his bed, sweating, naked, and out of breath.
The lack of sleep, on top of unwanted dreams, has me tossing my alarm clock off the nightstand when it begins to announce four in the morning. Climbing from the bed, dizziness assaults me, causing me to flail my arms for something to hold onto. My butt hits the bed with a bounce and my stomach churns. Quickly lying back, I inhale through my nose to ease the queasiness.
My body is protesting my lack of slumber.
With my stomach calm, I slide from bed and to the bathroom. A hot shower helps to wake me. A quick braiding of my wet locks, oversized jeans, and t-shirt in place, I follow the scent of fresh brewed coffee.