Bent not Broken (81 page)

She hated him.

****

“Could you hand me that, sweetheart.” Mom pointed to the measuring cup closest to me.

“Sure.” I smiled and passed it across the island to her. I turned back to stir the milk into the potatoes and pulled the mixer from the cupboard to whip them. We both moved effortlessly about the kitchen. It was clear that cooking had been a love I’d inherited from my mother, and we’d done a lot of it this week. We’d baked and laughed and talked, finding refuge in the best room of the house. We’d start our day off in here over coffee and breakfast and cap it off with dinner, the two of us growing closer with each meal. We still hadn’t had
the talk
, but we knew it was coming. Instead, we savored our time together as mother and daughter, not as two strangers, but as we had been years ago.

She knew something was up. That first night after we’d wished each other goodnight, I’d gone into the bathroom to brush my teeth and get ready for bed, only to find her lingering in the darkened living room. I’d stood fidgeting with the hem of my pajama top, not sure what to do. I’d realized then she was asking me to give her a glimpse into my life—asking me to trust her. I’d walked quietly across the room, my face trained on the floor, and stopped to look back at her as I opened the door to the guestroom. She’d simply given me a single nod of understanding and withdrawn into her room, closing the door behind her. She’d never mentioned it once, though over the week, she’d watched. It was not because she was judging me, condemning me, or finding some fault in my actions. Her eyes were soft and tender as they followed me through the room.

“How’s that turkey coming?” Mom grabbed a towel and patted her hands dry, leaning down to peer into the oven over my shoulder.

“Looking pretty good. I’d say we have about another half an hour before we can pull it out.”

“Smells good.” She placed a loving hand on my shoulder, offering a gentle squeeze as she went back to the green beans simmering on the stove.

I basted the turkey before closing it in the oven, then crossed the kitchen to begin pulling the china from the hutch. Even facing away, I could feel her become rigid, her muscles tighten, her back stiffen.

“Will you ever be able to forgive me?” Her voice was soft—so soft I almost wondered if she’d wanted me to hear. I stilled before lowering the plates to the counter. Resting my hands flat on either side of them, I searched for a way to answer her question. I was still so angry. But after this week, the time we’d spent, the things we’d shared, everything had changed.

“I think I already have.”

I felt her release the breath she’d held, and we turned at the same time, ready to finally face the past, only to be interrupted by Nicholas rushing in through the door from the garage. Flashing a fake smile, he declared how delicious everything smelled. My face flushed red, angered by his mere presence. Mom saw my frustration and smiled weakly before she mouthed, “Later,” as Nicholas left the room and headed upstairs. I nodded and continued to pull the rest of the dishes out and took them into the dining room to set the table.

“Melanie, sweetie, could you come and help me in here?”

I followed Mom’s voice back into the kitchen, finding her struggling to pull the huge turkey from the oven. I giggled at how ridiculous it had been for us to pick such a large turkey for three people.

“Here, let me get that.” I nudged her aside and took her mitts. I strained to pull the pan out and wrestled it to the counter. We both fell into a fit of laughter at our physical inadequacy. Mom chuckled as she whispered conspiratorially, “Well, that was the first time I actually wished Nicholas was around.”

I looked at her, stunned, before I clapped my hand over my mouth and cracked up all over again. I quickly composed myself when I heard Nicholas coming down the stairs, but I was still snickering under my breath.

“Nicholas.” Mom’s voice still hinted her amusement. “Would you be a dear and carve the turkey for us?”

Nicholas was far from a dear, and it would have made me cringe had I not known of Mom’s contempt for him. She was apparently just a little bit better at hiding it than I was.

“I’d love to.”

I couldn’t keep from rolling my eyes. Nicholas was the ultimate charlatan.

We all took a seat and filled our plates.

The mood was surprisingly light, even with Nicholas at the table. Mom and I were on a high because of the week we’d spent together and the small breakthrough we’d made earlier that evening. Even Nicholas seemed to enjoy himself, adding small bits to the conversation and acting as if he were a halfway-decent person. Mom had said very little to him the entire week, but with the light climate, she engaged him, chatting about his well-known love of the game of golf.

“So, how’s work, Nicholas?”

I choked on the wine I’d just tipped into my mouth, forcing it down my throat, suddenly very uncomfortable with the change of subject.

“It’s great...perfect really. You know I’ve been quite successful in the past, but this year we’ve exceeded all our goals.” His face glowed with pride, his eyes gleaming as he told her of the prosperity soon to befall him. “We just landed the largest contract we’ve ever had.”

God, no. Please,
I silently begged as I twisted the fabric napkin tightly around my fingers in my lap.

Mom smirked, Nicholas oblivious as she patronized, “Well, that is quite impressive, Nicholas.”

He nodded vigorously, shoving another bite of turkey into his mouth before continuing, “Yeah. It’s this huge medical complex.”

I closed my eyes, praying for him to stop.

“A new oncology center. It’s pretty extravagant...going to make us a ton of money.”

“Oh, what kind of oncology?” Mom feigned interest, simply keeping up the conversation, unaware of the trap she was setting for me.

Mom, please, stop.
I struggled to think of some way to portray the words to her, but nothing would come.

“Breast cancer. Some big shots that came up with some new treatment...” Nicholas sneered, not covering his distaste, “The Montgomerys.”

Mom sputtered, whipping her head around to look at me. “Daniel?” Her eyes were wide from the impact of the name, growing into sheer panic when she took on my expression. Her throat bobbed, and she swallowed hard as if she were trying to reel his name back in.

Nicholas froze, momentarily dumbfounded by her words. He looked back and forth between the two of us before understanding dawned on his face.

“And just how do you know Dr. Montgomery, Peggy?” Nicholas demanded, his face red as he glared at her from across the table.

Her eyes darted to mine, and she quickly shifted them to her lap and said nothing.

Nicholas jumped to his feet, his hands flat on the table as he leaned forward, his attention now directed to me. “How the fuck do you know Daniel Montgomery?” he growled.

I was going to throw up. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to find some sort of acceptable answer to give him.

He couldn’t find out—not like this.

He slammed his fist down on the table. “Tell me!”

I recoiled into the chair, muttering the words into my lap, “He was my baby’s father.”

I didn’t look up until I heard the mocking chuckle. “Well...isn’t that sweet.”

He looked away, rubbing his fingers over his mouth as he gathered his thoughts, before he turned his attention back to me, trapping me with his eyes while he spoke to Mom. “Peggy, I think you need to give me a moment with my
wife
.”

I sat rigidly except for my hands that shook uncontrollably under the table. I stared at the half-eaten plate of food in front of me. Mom’s eyes burned into me, pleading for direction on what to do. I was too terrified to acknowledge her. I felt her give up and rise from her chair, her footsteps soft as she walked from the room.

An overwhelming feeling of dread consumed me, my chest convulsing in waves as I tried to hide my fear.

Right then, all I wanted was Daniel. I wanted him to break through the door and save me, to swoop in and rescue me. I wished I’d just listened to him when he’d begged me to leave in the first place. I was so stupid. Now, I’d placed us both in more danger than we ever would have faced otherwise.

I flinched when Nicolas suddenly moved, stalking around the table and grabbing my arm. He dragged me into the kitchen and pushed me up against the wall.

Tears sprung to my eyes, and I fought to hold them back. Showing him weakness would only make it worse.

“Suddenly that night makes a whole lot more sense to me. The way you fumbled all over yourself and acted like a complete fool...made me look like a fool.” He dug his fingers into my arm. I bit my lip to keep from crying out.

It was as if he could taste it—my fear. His mouth twisted up in a malicious grin as he pinned me to the wall with one hand by the neck.

“It would be a shame for something to happen to such a young, promising doctor, wouldn’t it?” His mock concern turned my stomach. My blood ran cold and my mouth suddenly went dry when he brought both hands to my neck.

“Besides, do you really think he’d want you? You and your worthless body?”

Panic worked its way through my body, my legs beginning to flail and my fingers clawing at his hands as I sucked in enough air to produce the lie. “He didn’t want me then, why would he want me now?”

He cracked a menacing smile. “That’s right.” He increased the pressure of his hold, but he had enough of my weight pinned against the wall that he didn’t completely obstruct the flow of air.

It was a warning.

“I was beginning to think maybe you’d forgotten who you belong to.” This time when he squeezed, he stole my breath. “Don’t fuck with me, Melanie.”

“Oh my God.” My mother’s gasp echoed over the tile floor of the kitchen, leaving me feeling both relieved and ashamed at having her find me like this.

Reflexively, Nicholas glanced over his shoulder at Mom, releasing his hold. I crumbled and landed hard against the floor. He turned to her, his voice hard and without remorse. “I was just reminding your daughter of her place.”

He leaned down close to my face, his breath making me sick as I gasped for air. “Until
death
do us part.” His voice lowered as he came in even closer, his mouth pressed into my cheek. “Don’t forget it.”

I struggled, finding enough strength to whisper the thing I wanted to say most. “I hate you.” It was hardly a defense, but I couldn’t go another second without him knowing exactly how I felt about him.

“Oh, I know...” he sneered, his mouth twitching up as if he experienced some sort of morbid pleasure in my misery.

He stood and strode from the room. He brushed past Mom as if she wasn’t there, leaving me in a pile on the floor trying to piece myself back together.

My hands fisted as angry tears flowed down my face. How had I allowed it to come to this? Allowed him this control? I was worse off now than I had been when I’d started. The worst part was that Mom stood just ten feet away, her face pale, trembling, frozen in fear.

I felt the break, the way her mind snapped into action, and she rushed to me. “Melanie...”

I tried to pull myself from the floor, but it was harder to do than I had anticipated. My feet wobbled beneath me, and I had to reach out to steady myself on the wall. I was having a hard time making my limbs function.

Mom reached to help me, her face stricken. “Melanie,” she said again, “Are...”

I put my hand out to stop her, feeling horrible for doing so, but I couldn’t handle talking about this with her yet. I had to figure out what I was going to do. I had been thrown back to square one, and I had no idea where to go from here.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The door silently clicked behind me, and I fell onto the unmade bed and buried my face in the pillows in an attempt to drown out my cries.

I snaked my arm under my chest and up to the fiery skin, bruised at Nicholas’s hand, a concrete warning that his threats were more than just idle. I’d never felt so helpless.

I tried to ignore the light tapping against the door, but then Mom called softly, “Melanie? Sweetheart? I’m so sorry.”

I took in a breath, tried to hide my tears and the hoarseness of my voice. “Not tonight, Mom. Please. I’m okay, I just need some time.” She was probably blaming herself for what had happened, but I couldn’t bring myself to talk to her yet.

She patted the door, a soft, soothing sound that promised she was there if I needed her, followed by the sound of her retreating footsteps.

I fell into a restless sleep filled with nightmares, ones where I searched but could never find, where he called and I could never answer—where I would never be free to live my life with Daniel.

****

The sky was still dark when I awoke, the house silent except for the distinct sound of the shower running upstairs.

I swallowed, bringing my fingers up to touch the sensitive skin at my neck, and I fought against the angry tears that pricked at my eyes.

I hated him so much.

The shower shut off, and Nicholas’s footsteps moved heavily on the floor in the room above. Soon, the sound traveled down the stairs. I waited, tense. After what seemed like hours, the garage door opened and closed, and silence fell over the house once again.

I released the terrified breath I’d been holding.

Standing, I stretched my sore muscles and tiptoed across the floor to open the door a crack and peeked into the living room. Mom slept on the couch, hugging the blue blanket from her room to her chest.

A wistful smile played at my lips as I realized she’d slept there to protect me.

I closed the door, unwilling to interrupt her sleep, and crawled back into bed, knowing I’d never get any more sleep.

About an hour later, I heard rattling in the kitchen. I shuffled into the kitchen, embarrassed and unable to make eye contact with Mom when I entered.

I had no idea what to say to her or how to explain how I’d ended up like this.

She filled two green coffee mugs as I took a seat on a barstool at the island, and she slid the mug to me across the smooth surface of the countertop. I mumbled a quiet, “Thank you,” as I rubbed my eye with the back of my hand, trying to clear my head. Lifting the mug, I inhaled deeply and brought the cup to my lips.