by Theo Baxter
Even if that meant you were never born? I answered that without a thought while looking at Melissa's bloody, bruised face. Absolutely.
"Thank you for doing this," she said in a small voice while sniffling.
Once again, some invisible force squeezed my heart, and I cursed my father to hell.
I handed her a Kleenex for her runny nose.
"No need to thank me for something like this, ever."
She understood everything I didn't say. Truth be told, I hated all of this. I hated that my father was a monster who enjoyed hurting other people, and I simply couldn't take it anymore.
She winced a couple of times as I cleaned her wounds.
"You are so good to me," she said with a sigh while more tears dampened her cheeks.
I simply lost it. "You should leave him, and the sooner, the better." There, I said it.
I had vowed that I would never get involved in their relationship or tell her what she should be doing, but in this one regard, I couldn't keep my mouth shut. She had to leave him because it was a matter of her wellbeing, safety, and sanity. No one deserved to be mistreated, especially not her.
Melissa deserved a normal, happy life with someone who would love her unconditionally. No matter how cruel it sounded, I hoped this outburst of my father's demonstrated to her how the rest of her life would look next to him. Carson Andros was not capable of love, and he could never give her the happy life she dreamed about. Only some nightmarish version of it.
She looked at me all wide-eyed, as though startled by my words, before looking away. It was apparent that my words affected her, and I simply couldn't understand in what way.
Then she said, "I can't do that." She looked ashamed.
My blood boiled. I couldn't believe she was acting like this, was prepared to stay with that man despite everything. What is wrong with her?
"Why not?" I challenged.
Melissa remained quiet so I continued.
"He is never going to change, and be warned that this is nothing compared to the true violence he is capable of."
To that, she did look at me. I was glad I had her attention.
"He will never love you, Melissa, not in the way you deserve. He's not capable of something like that."
I knew my words were harsh, yet she needed to hear them, to understand. These violent outbursts paired with possessiveness and jealousy were all she could hope for while living with Carson.
"I can't," she practically whispered.
"You can't seriously still believe he can change," I replied incredulously.
She always appeared to be an intelligent woman. At the same time, we were all capable of acting unbelievably stupid when matters of the heart were in play.
She shook her head. "It's not that."
That confused me even more. "Then what is it?"
She closed her eyes as though trying to escape reality. "You will think so poorly of me," she sobbed.
"Never," I instantly reassured her.
But she simply kept on crying.
I took both her hands into mine, squeezing ever so slightly. That made her open her eyes again. "Just talk to me," I pleaded.
After a heartbeat or two, she took a deep breath. "I signed a prenuptial agreement."
"So?" Unless there was a specific clause in it that forbade her to divorce him, which I believed would be illegal anyway, I saw no problem with it. She could walk away whenever she wanted.
"If I divorce him, I would be forced to walk away with nothing."
I was stunned, and despite my promise, my faith in her wavered. Was money really worth that much to her to be treated like a punching bag? Apparently so. I couldn't believe my initial assessment of her was spot on.
At the same time maybe, I was acting a bit hypocritical. I had also endured a lot in my life. But I didn't have any other options. And now? I challenged. Despite my father's best efforts, I was still here. Why?
Some of my thoughts must have shown on my face because Melissa's whole face fell. "I knew you wouldn't understand."
That made me banish all the contradictory thoughts inside my head. This was no time to think about my screwed-up life. This was about Melissa.
"Then make me understand," I urged, showing her I was prepared to listen.
"Oh, why bother? You'll think of me as some gold digger and nothing else."
"I would never do something like that. Now tell me what the real problem is," I insisted. Who knows, maybe it is something I can help her with? I’d never suffered from a hero complex before, but I would do everything in my power to help Melissa get rid of my father.
"My mother is sick and needs constant medical attention."
In an instant, I understood everything. "Let me guess, Carson pays all the medical expenses."
Melissa simply nodded in return.
That was his MO. That was what he did so he could have absolute control over people. He found people's weaknesses, played on their desperation, and then exploited them. No wonder Melissa chose to stay. She felt like this was the only way for her to help her mother, which was yet another manipulation on my father's part.
"Do you understand now?" Melissa pleaded as though she couldn't stand having me think poorly of her.
I did understand, and at the same time, I didn't. I did understand the urge to do everything in your power for a loved one, but I believed there had to be another way.
"I'm trying to," I replied honestly.
"I know it sounds horrible, but I have to stay for her."
"I get that." Or at least that she thought she had to stay because of her mother. People did all kinds of things for love, good and bad. That was a horrifying fact.
Melissa squeezed my hands as though urging me, pleading with me, to see things from her perspective. And I really did. It was simply that I was of a mind that this was not the only path. That was what my father would want her to think so he could keep controlling her, and I would find a way to set her free.
"I want you to know I did love him at first," she confessed.
I didn't miss the past tense used. Truth be told, that brought me more pleasure than it should have. But I couldn't linger on that at the moment.
"I believe you. It's simply that it pains me that you are forced to live like this."
It was on the tip of my tongue to plead with her once more to simply divorce Carson, and I knew I couldn't do that. Not yet. I had to present her with some alternative before speaking with her on that subject again. It was more than apparent that she was concerned for her mother's wellbeing, and it wouldn't be fair, despite everything, to rob her of the current peace of mind.
"I have no regrets," she countered with utter conviction. "I met you, after all."
I really didn't know how to respond to that though I felt the same way.
I resumed my work and put the last Band-Aid on her brow. "There, all done. Good as new."
Melissa took me by surprise by placing her palm against my cheek. "Don't worry, Dean. I will get my justice, my revenge, in my own way."
I was about to ask what she meant by that when she leaned in and kissed me. All rational thoughts simply vanished from my head and I kissed her back. One strong thought somehow managed to break through, and I stopped us. "Are you sure?" I asked, concerned. "You're injured."
"Yes, I am," Melissa replied a little breathlessly. "I want you, Dean."
That was good enough for me.
Afterward, when she was sound asleep in my bed, I snuck out of my room and went straight to my father's office. Now that I knew what he did, his absence was completely understandable. That was what he did. He would disappear for a day or two after a scene like this then return and act as though nothing happened at all.
Not this time.
I broke everything in that room, all his manifestations of power. And I relished it. I knew this would hurt him more than busting his face for what he did to Melissa ever could.
When I finished my task, still panting from all
the exertion—his chair put up a fight—I took my phone out and sent a text.
Saw Melissa. Nice work. I left you a big gift in your office. It was done with love.
Take that, you asshole.
Chapter Sixteen
I couldn't catch a wink of sleep. I'd had sex with Melissa, and to say I had mixed feelings about that would be an understatement of the freaking century. Regarding my father’s office, I had no regrets about trashing it. It was the least I could do.
I couldn't stop staring at her. She was pure perfection despite the best efforts of my father to ruin that. I banished all thoughts of the man who’d offered his DNA to create me. I didn't want them ruining my bliss.
I was capable of doing something like that on my own. At some point, she woke. She snuck back to her room, which solidified the reality of what we just did. I’d had an affair with my father's wife. It sounded too gross when thinking in those terms.
As I mentioned before, I stayed up all night in a panic, afraid my father would discover us somehow and kill us both. I knew he would freak when he discovered his office ruined. That was why I did it.
This was a hundred times worse. It was the ultimate revenge. Thinking of revenge, I couldn't help remembering Melissa's words right before she kissed me. She said she would find some way to get back at my father. Was I her form of revenge? To be honest, I didn't know how I felt about that, to be used as some instrument in tormenting my father.
Maybe I was looking at things from the wrong perspective. This was between me and Melissa. I couldn't believe I did that, we did that.
This was the first time I'd slept with anyone after Bella betrayed me. From this standpoint, I couldn't believe I’d ever thought of her as my one true love. Now I finally saw her for what she truly was, especially since she’d found some other professor to swoon over. She was nothing but an opportunistic freak. At the same time, I saw myself for what I truly was.
What I did with Melissa was bad, and it couldn't happen again. And not only because Carson would kill us both if he ever found out. A man like him was incapable of forgiveness. It was bad because it was a form of regression in my case. The affair was morally wrong, and thanks to Dr. Blake, I realized this wasn't the type of person I wanted to be. Maybe in the past, this was exactly what I would do, yet no more. Are you sure?
You still did it, asshole. My whole bed, whole room, still stank of sex, mocking me and my foolish thoughts. Despite everything, I hadn't changed. I was the same guy I was all those months ago. The only thing that changed was the woman I was with, nothing else.
It was discouraging that I was at exactly the same place I was before. There was zero progress. Maybe that was one more thing I got from my father, the inability to change. The thought was beyond depressing.
One thing did change, though. I was now unemployed. Somehow, I didn't see that as a good thing.
Eventually, I got sick and tired of all the self-pity. I'd slept with Melissa. It was something I'd dreamed of doing for a long time. And it was amazing. But it was clearly a temporal lack of judgment from both parties and something that wouldn't—couldn't—repeat.
I believed we were both adult enough to acknowledge that we were only human and succumbed to temptation under extreme circumstances. It was a stressful night. Emotions were running high, and mistakes happened. Despite everything, that didn't have to be a defining moment for us.
All the rationalization in the world couldn't help me in those moments because I felt like I had a split personality. I felt vibrant, invigorated, but I also felt guilty for feeling like that. It was an infinite merry-go-round.
To make matters worse, I had therapy today. That almost put me in a panicked state all over again. I couldn't face Dr. Blake today, not after everything that happened. I wouldn't know what to say to her. How about the truth? This all wouldn't have happened if I'd simply kept my promise and remained honest with her.
It was too late for thinking like that. I had to look forward and figure out my next move since it was obvious that I couldn't be trusted.
Overreacting much? It was true that I'd slipped up, but it was human to err. Sadly, I was afraid if I had a chance to relive everything all over again, I would do the same thing. It took only one kiss for me to be completely addicted to Melissa.
Seeing no other way, I took my phone and canceled my appointment with Dr. Blake. I wrote to her how I didn't feel good, blamed it on the flu. Not only that you are an adulterer, but you are also a liar. In comparison, that looked like a small infraction.
It was completely cowardly of me to cancel the session now that I needed it the most. Instead of facing my mistakes, facing my issues head-on, I was ignoring them. Everybody deserves a day off, I'll deal with everything tomorrow.
Spoken like a true coward. It was kind of ironic that I was cowering in my room, unable to face my therapist and her possible disappointment in me when there was a much bigger threat I should be focused on. My father. He'd already threatened that he would kill me if I ever tried to speak with Melissa ever again. There was no telling what he would do if he ever found out about this. What was the next punishment available for fucking his wife?
At least we didn't do it in his bed, came a random thought that I banished.
I realized there was a mistake in my thinking process. There was nothing hypothetical about my father learning the truth. I was dead certain that he would find out we spent the night together. And then there was no telling what would happen to either of us. To say I was alarmed that my subconscious already believed I was doomed would be mildly put.
Regardless of everything, I was most concerned about facing Dr. Blake at the moment, which was utterly insane. It couldn't be helped. She was the only person in my life I didn't want to disappoint. That ship sailed.
And I was doing so great up until this moment, if I could so humbly observe. Was that the reason I slipped up? Was I putting too much pressure on myself to get better as soon as possible or was the reason something more basic, like being lonely? You simply wanted her, end of story.
I felt completely overwhelmed, confused, and needed time to sort everything that was happening inside my head and my heart before facing my therapist.
Okay, isn't that one of the main reasons people go to therapy in the first place? To get help when they can’t deal with life on their own?
Maybe I needed a therapist to prepare me for seeing my other therapist. Now that would be completely insane. I realized this was something I needed to face on my own. I created this madness and I needed to find a way out of it too. On some level, I believed Dr. Blake would be proud of me for thinking in that direction. That was the point of seeing her in the first place, so I could one day face all my problems on my own. Fear of disappointing her was irrational and should be secondary to the real issues.
Running to the kitchen to grab something to eat, I was faced with the simple truth that there was one thing I’d completely overlooked, facing Melissa. I was surprised by how the encounter didn't feel weird or awkward. We slipped into our old roles without missing a beat, and part of me was grateful nothing had changed between us. The rest worried if she remembered what happened between us in the first place. If anybody knew about partial amnesia, it was me.
Soon, I got my answer. She did remember, and she liked it, which boosted my ego, filled me with pride like nothing else despite the wrongness of it all.
Disregarding my big head fuck and constant worries about the ethics of what we did and possibility of being discovered by my father, I had sex with Melissa multiple times after that day. Each time, I felt a little less guilty. I couldn't help myself.
My father returned home, renovated his office, and pretended as though nothing happened, yet Melissa and I knew the truth. Everything changed and in a big way.
Once my father would leave for work, Melissa would simply slip back to my room, into my bed. I tried to talk with her, share my doubts about our actions, yet she wouldn't listen.
"
Please, don't say no to me," was all she had to say while looking at me with those gorgeous eyes of hers, and I was done.
Besides, I didn't want to say no to her, and she provided me with the ultimate excuse. It was pathetic how weak I was. I was weak and happy. What could I say? The sex was amazing. There was only one small issue with it.
I discovered over time that I couldn't make her come no matter what I was doing, no matter how much effort I invested. I’d never doubted my skills before, but she had me worried. I wasn't one of those guys who didn't give a shit if their partner enjoyed herself, so I really did my best. Eventually, I asked for guidance.
"Did you come?" I asked her at some point.
"Not yet." It was more of a sigh than an actual sentence with words, but I understood her perfectly. In those moments when we were together, I was completely focused on her and not simply physically.
"Show me how."
She then did something that took me by surprise. Melissa took my hand and placed it around her neck, then tried to squeeze. I wanted to move my hand away and she wouldn't let me.
"It's okay. I want you to choke me," she encouraged.
I was freaked, yet I was also really close to having an orgasm of my own. Without thinking, I did as she asked, and the experience was thrilling if not disturbing. She orgasmed really hard, taking me over the edge with her.
What just happened? Not even the post-coital bliss could slow down my freaked-out mind. Why did she ask me to do that? Was that her thing? When did she discover she liked to be choked?
To escape the questions inside my head, I tried to talk to her. "What just happened?" I asked, genuinely confused.
"What do you mean?" She happily stretched beside me. Seeing her breasts swaying distracted me for a second.
Focus. "Are you unable to finish unless someone is choking you?" I was sure I was crossing a lot of lines asking that question, but it couldn't be helped. I felt like I had to know.
"It's nothing. Simply harmless fun." She brushed it off. The mark that remained on her neck told a different story. I felt ashamed that I’d caused her pain.