Chapter 28

-Alison-

I always felt nervous about visits involving my parents. I knew the torment I would endure, as in this household, I was never the one in control. I was always the lowest one, expected to absorb every blow that came my way, knowing that no one would believe me. While I wasn't subjected to the same level of abuse as Jared, I understood the urge to scream, yet my cries went unheard.

However, having him there with me tonight felt like another dream coming true. How many times had I imagined sharing these moments with him, knowing he would make them more bearable? He possessed the strength to endure so much. He could be both my support and shield. He even remembered my sensitivity to limes. Why couldn't I have been brave enough to stand by what I felt? Things might have been so much different.

I knew I shouldn't have been ogling him like the other women at the party, but their covetous thoughts and desires directed at him almost made me want to reach out and possessively wrap an arm around his or kiss him. I wanted them to know that no one could have him, that he was all mine. Yet I was fully aware that my thoughts were ridiculous. While Jared might torment me and claim ownership, I knew he wasn't laying claim to me. He was merely punishing me for his past.

These realizations left me feeling rather gloomy as dinner progressed. More and more women attempted to engage Jared in conversation, seeking to get to know him, while it was evident that he wasn't interested in speaking much. I noticed his eyes drifting to the end of the table, where my father sat like a king. It struck me as odd. Why did he keep glancing at my father? Had they become close at his party? I wanted to inquire, but then dessert was brought in, diverting both Jared's and my attention to the cake placed in front of us.

A warm sensation spread through me as I remembered the last time Jared and I had eaten cake together. Carefully turning my head, my eyes slid from the food to him, meeting his powerful gaze with a sense of shared memory. Obviously, he remembered too. However, the moment was far from a happy one, as he had left me shattered on the floor after I had admitted my feelings to him.

Though I couldn't deny that the truth had set me free. Finally telling him how I felt had brought about a significant change within me. Yet, it didn't stop the heat from rising to my cheeks as I glanced away, subtly leaning more toward Warren to create space between Jared and me. Warren was seated closer to some of his friends, and as I edged closer, he noticed, grasping my free hand and offering me a small smile. At least he seems to be refraining from indulging in wine tonight, I thought, finding some solace in that fact, before I felt his hand on my thigh.

Wait...

Glancing down at the hand Warren held, I knew it was impossible for him to have a third hand that could slide up my left thigh. Turning my head, I looked at Jared, who wasn't even facing me but had turned more toward my father. Yet, without a doubt, it was his hand that was moving up higher and higher, pushing aside the slit in my dress to find bare skin underneath. I couldn't believe he had suddenly chosen to do this here. He hadn't seemed interested in being close to me, and out of the blue, he was touching me.

Jared would never stop being confusing, I realized, releasing my fork and reaching underneath the table to stop him before he grazed my covered pussy. His hand resisted, pressing higher, and I exerted more force, keeping him in place. I dug my nails into his hand, and he reciprocated by digging his into my thigh. It should have hurt, and yet it excited me even more.

I pushed my leg to the side, attempting to kick him, but it didn't deter him. He persisted, pressing his nails into my skin and trailing them higher. What on earth was he doing? I wondered. I had to let go of Warren because Jared was too strong. Grasping his hand with both of mine, I tried to do so discreetly, but the moment both my hands were on his, he removed his, letting it rest on the dining table. I felt utterly confused as I gazed up at him for a few seconds. He said nothing, so I turned to Warren again, seizing his hand. He smiled at me once more, and I leaned in to kiss his cheek, ensuring my mother and others noticed.

As I began to engage in the conversation with one of Warren's friends, I felt Jared's hand again, sliding up my thigh, this time faster. It reached my pussy before I could stop him, his fingers grazing over the material of my panties. Pulling away from Warren, I tried to do so subtly, but as I moved to push Jared's hand away, he removed it himself.

I focused on him, but he was deep in conversation with my mother once more. I couldn't comprehend this game of his. Leaning toward Warren again, I felt Jared's hand on my knee. Glancing down, then refocusing on Warren, I leaned away from him, and Jared's hand disappeared. Leaning my weight toward Warren, Jared's touch found its way back underneath my dress.

I couldn't help but smile a little, reminded of our conversation in the meeting room. Slowly, I shook my head before leaning toward Jared. Just as he was about to remove his hand, I grabbed it, ensuring it stayed on my thigh.

Returning to my meal, his touch remained on my thigh, and I refrained from moving closer to Warren. The dinner proceeded rather smoothly, and soon we were all invited to have drinks in the living room to relax and converse. I noticed how quickly Jared got up from his seat, leaving me feeling cold when his hand was no longer on my thigh. His behavior was extremely odd. As Warren stood up and offered me his help, I accepted it.

We returned to the living room, where drinks were served, and everyone quickly formed groups with people they wanted to talk to. I noticed Jared had joined my father, and to my surprise, he mingled well with the older men, making them smile and laugh, finding him interesting. It was strange seeing this version of Jared, as I remembered him as a small, timid boy who never spoke. Now, he drew people in, and I wasn't the only one glancing his way.

"Why are all the good ones always married?" Karina inquired, an old friend of mine from college. She sipped her drink, appearing annoyed, but as she held her glass, I noticed the diamond on her finger. Yet I knew she and her husband were separated.

"He is very handsome," another woman from our group said. I had ended up with these people not long after dinner, my husband wanting to be with his friends instead of me.

"Ali, you know him well, don't you?" Karina questioned.

I shook my head, feeling as if I were in a trance. "Um, not that well."

"But you are old high school friends, right?" another asked.

"Um, ‘friends' is a bit of a stretch," I informed her, seeing the puzzled look on their faces. "I didn't spend that much time with him. Merely had some classes with him."

What a horrible lie, I thought. I had spent every day with him, but I didn't want to make it seem like it was because we were friends.

"I heard you actually have known him since you were kids. Not just high school," Louis's wife pointed out, and I tried to smile, not wanting to give anything away.

"Oh?"

"Your mother told me."

"I see," I replied.

"Then you two must be close," Karina pointed out.

"Um, I guess so," I stammered, growing nervous as they seemed to inch closer to the truth of our relationship.

"Just tell us something," Karina urged.

"Yes?"

"Is he really married? I haven't seen his wife."

"She… She is shy," I lied.

"But are they happy?" another woman pressed on.

"Oh, um…" Images of Astrid flooded my mind, how she had rubbed herself all over Jared, forcing him into intimate acts, and I was filled with disgust.

"I think so," I replied.

"You think so? So it isn't certain?"

"I…" Just then, I noticed Jared and my father's group leaving the living room. I knew they were on their way out for a smoke, but it gave me an excuse to exit as well.

"If you'll excuse me, I need some fresh air," I told them. Karina was about to ask me another question, but I wasn't going to stand there being interrogated. I made my way through the room, only for my mother to reach out and grab my arm, pulling me to her. She sat by the seating area and could just reach me before I left.

"Alison, come join us," she said, her nails digging into my wrist.

I glanced at the older women gathered there, smiling at me, but I had no interest in being questioned further. I wanted to go follow Jared and the others. I knew I wasn't welcomed to join the men, but just being near Jared and away from this gathering made me feel better.

"I just need to go to the bathroom first," I lied, hoping to buy some time. I could see my mother wasn't pleased, her strained smile betraying her true feelings. She discreetly got out of her seat, practically dragging me out of the room and into the nearest bathroom.

"Um, Mom, I think I'm too old to go to the bathroom with you," I protested as she shoved me inside. She slammed the door shut and turned to face me, her eyes filled with dark anger.

"Alison, we haven't had a chance to talk yet, but it seems Jared is going to be around," she pointed out.

"Why would you think that?" I chuckled nervously, trying to feign innocence.

"Your father has already begun expressing interest in working with him. Who knows? Maybe they"ll be partners in the future."

"I see…" I murmured, feeling a rush of excitement at the thought of Jared being around more often. Maybe visits to my parents wouldn't be so bad after all. I might even enjoy them.

"Even after all these years," she snarled, crossing her arms, and I focused on her once more, my heart skipping a beat.

"E-Even after what?"

"Don't play dumb with me. You know I don't appreciate it," she said sharply.

"I-I don't—" I stammered.

"You're still in love with him, aren't you?"

"Mom, I was never—"

"Don't lie to me, Alison. I was the one who always had to get you out of trouble. I was the one who saw the way you stared at the boy whenever there were any school events that I had to attend with you. Somehow, you could always find him, even in a room with a hundred people," she recounted, her tone filled with disappointment.

I gazed at the ground, feeling rather embarrassed, but nothing escaped my mother's notice.

"Even tonight, you can't tear your gaze away from him," she pointed out. "And the moment he leaves the room, you wish to follow."

"I…" I struggled to find the right words.

"Of course, I must admit you clearly saw potential in the boy when none of the rest of us did."

"So, you're not mad?" I asked, cautiously hopeful.

"Mad? No. But the ship has sailed, Alison," she reminded me gently. "He is married, even trying to make a family with someone else, and you are married as well."

"It's not like every woman here, married or not, is not trying to throw themselves at him," I pointed out, attempting to deflect some of the focus from myself.

"Yes, but they aren't my daughter, and you have other things to concern yourself with, such as being there for Warren and showing everyone that those pictures are nothing but fake, a lie, and there is nothing wrong between you two."

"But Mom, everything is wrong," I confessed, my voice trembling with emotion. "It's not just the pictures! Have you any idea how long I have had to endure his affairs? I am tired of it! Why must I do all the work?"

"Because you need to remember something every woman has had to learn throughout time," she explained patiently.

"What?" I asked.

"Men think they rule this world, they think they have all the power, but that is only because we allow them to think so. Behind every man who thinks he is somehow in charge, stands a woman whispering in his ear."

"That's ridiculous. We're in the 21st century. Things are different now. Women can vote and have bank accounts."

"I know, but that doesn't change the fact that for thousands of years, men have been at the forefront. They are still our masks. They are still the ones we need in order to get our own opinions across. You need Warren, and therefore, you will endure what he does," she instructed.

"So I should just let him sleep around?"

"Not necessarily. You can find a way to work with him or you can begin to live separate lives, but when you are out here, you must seem happy and content."

"Or maybe I'm tired of playing these games!" I yelled. "I'm not you, Mom! I have a life."

She drew back, shocked, before growing angry with me and storming over to me. She grabbed my arm hard, digging her nails into my skin, but I met her eyes, not backing down.

"Really? What life is that? Don't forget why you are where you are, Alison. That is all because of me and your father. You would have nothing without us. You would be nothing!" she snarled.

"Isn't that what parents are meant to do? To take care of their child?"

"But we haven't just taken care of you. We have spoiled you, and all that spoiling can easily be taken away from you. Don't think I don't know what sacrifices you have made for your husband," she warned, and I felt my heart freeze in my chest. "I'm not blind, Alison. I see everything."

I gulped, feeling even more fearful.

"Now I am sure you understand that once we leave this bathroom, you're not going to follow Jared. You're going to leave him alone, only be polite to him in passing, and then go be with your husband, be his support and rock, the person he knows he can always come to. Because that is what it means to be a good wife. You do hold all the power, Alison, but you need to remember not to lose focus," she explained before letting go of my arm. I barely noticed the throbbing pain, so consumed was I by my fear of my mother. She had always been the monster in my life, making me feel so small, and it didn't matter that I was in my thirties now. She still held me under her thumb, reminding me of my place.

"Do you hear me?" she pressed.

"Yes... Mother," I whispered, gazing at the ground.

She reached out, stroking my cheek, but her touch felt cold and unwelcome.

"My beautiful daughter," she murmured before kissing my forehead and then leaving the bathroom. I remained inside, feeling my heart breaking into a million pieces. Tears threatened to spill, but I took deep breaths, trying to hold them back as I covered my mouth with my hand to stifle any sobs.

I didn't feel this way whenever Jared threatened me. Our games were as addictive as he stated, but with my mother, I felt like a child once more, trapped in this house as she asserted her power. I was so weak when it came to her, and though I had hoped to gain distance and freedom from her, she made it very obvious I would never truly be free.