Travis

Long after I'd dropped her off and returned to my room, the image of her pale face and slumped shoulders wouldn't leave my mind.

I sank onto my bed with a deep breath, refusing to turn on the light. I wanted to brood in the darkness.

The raw anguish in her eyes was a wound straight to my heart, and I knew I'd never cause her such torture again. Not when I could help it.

I should feel okay and flattered that she'd needed me like I needed her, but I couldn't, not when I had a glimpse of the pain she'd gone through but hidden so well. I felt like an ass, and I couldn't help being livid with myself.

I'd held her hand in mine, drawing soft circles at the back of her hand as I drove her home. It had soothed her, just as I wished, and she'd closed her eyes and napped for some short minutes in the car.

It was a pain to wake her up, but it'd have been more painful if she slept deeply only for me to wake her up, so I got out of the car, opened her door, and softly brushed a hand across her cheek to wake her up.

She looked confused at first before she quickly absorbed her surroundings. I took her hand and gently led her home.

My heart clenched as I thought back to the beach house, suddenly seeing how lonely she must've felt with her friend hanging out with Heath and me distancing myself. It made my heart hurt.

But it wasn't even true that I wouldn't look at her. God help me, I couldn't stop looking at her. I had looked at her. All the time.

I had watched her, studying the way she moved gracefully through her dance routines with my sister, the way her small, straight teeth sank into her rosy lip as her brows furrowed with concentration.

I'd watched her dance. It was a battle not to. But I'd been discreet about it, and how could I possibly make her understand that without sounding defensive?

I didn't want to be an asshole and come across as if I was dismissing her feelings, so I kept quiet and simply held her while she cried in my room. And it hurt so much.

She wasn't the type to cry easily, and she desperately tried to hold back but failed, making it even more heart-wrenching.

A groan escaped; I banged my fist on a pillow and restlessly tossed myself.

How on earth was she so good at masking her feelings? It was truly concerning, and it made a feeling of unease settle in my stomach.

"Aren't you coming down for dinner?" Nellie's voice trickled over me like iced water, and I started visibly.

"Learn how to knock, jeez," I muttered with a glare she couldn't see, catching my breath.

She annoyingly flicked on the lights, scrunched her face with disapproval at my sprawled form on the bed. "Will you stop mooning over your girl and come down for food? We're all hungry and waiting."

"I'm not hungry, and she's not my girl." I put an arm across my eyes to shield them from the sudden brightness.

The evil sister smirked evilly. "Right."

"It's true."

"I'm sure it is." She snickered. "After all, you jump into pools with girls all the time, and there's usually so much sexual tension between you two in that pool I could choke on it all the way from my bedroom."

"Cornelia." I removed my arm and made sure she could see my glare.

"It was gross as hell." She went on to drive her point home by gagging. "Did you use protection?"

"Go away, Nellie."

"I don't want to be an aunt now." She shuddered.

"You have five seconds to get lost."

"Come for food."

"I said I'm not hungry."

"Let's do this my way then," she said with a wicked flourish, then resorted to pulling a leg. Huxley, who I hadn't even known was around all this while, clamped his jaws around the other leg of my sweatpants and pulled.

"What the hell?" I shouted, my arms flailing. "Stop it! Stop this nonsense right now!"

The animal stopped. Nellie didn't.

I muttered an obscenity before kicking my leg and throwing her off balance. She quickly caught herself before falling to the floor, though. Those damn reflexes of hers.

"You're being a pain right now, Nellie."

A wicked smile curled her lips, and she gazed at me with a knowing look. "You're being very... grouchy."

A minute later, we were descending the stairs and heading towards the dining room with me dodging my little sister's probing questions about me and my crush.

"Is she a good kisser?" she inquired. "Her lips are so pretty; I'm sure she is a pro."

God, Nellie. I don't want to think about Rebecca's lips right now if I want to stay sane.

"Don't you have a dirty bra to wash?" I stifled a groan and tossed her an annoyed gaze, fighting off the dirty images that had suddenly appeared in my mind's eye.

She was every bit unaffected by my sour mood, and she smiled with so much pity I wanted to smack her.
"I'm taking it she turned you down," she cooed softly, patting my arm gently. "Poor brother. Don't you worry; I'll accompany you to see a shrink. Just let me know whenever you're ready."

My response was an annoyed grunt.

She kept on being a pain in the ass, so I hurried my steps, wanting to escape to the dining room and from her torturous questions, only to freeze at the sight that met me.

Seated at the set dining table was my dad.

At forty-three, he was still fit and good-looking. My sister and I took his hair and eye color. People never failed to point out the strong resemblance between my dad and me, and it pissed me off. I didn't want to be anything like him.

Wordlessly I turned and stalked away.

"Travis?" Nellie's voice was hesitant, filled with questions.

I looked over my shoulder at her. "I changed my mind."

She snagged my wrist and cast me a fierce look. "No, you haven't."

"Nellie-"

She cocked her head and nailed me at my weakest point. "You don't want Mom's efforts at cooking dinner to go to waste, do you?"

"I'll just eat in my room."

"Travis."

I let out a regretful sigh. "Fine."

***

I sat next to my sister, the two of us facing our parents. My mom had gone all out to set the table so it looked like something from a five-star hotel.

Everything smelled and looked so good, but it was difficult to enjoy the meal when the atmosphere was tense as hell.

Cornelia addressed our father as she cut chicken into little pieces. "I got an email to star in another music video." Her voice was filled with excitement, waiting for approval. It tugged at my heart. I'd been there, young and hunting for my father's approval.

It had been a futile cause.

"That's cool," he said. I wasn't even surprised at his bored tone.

My sister persisted. "Will you come with me for the audition? It's a weekend, and I'm sure you wouldn't have work."

He sipped water from a glass and carefully replaced it, stalling for time. "I don't think I can make it," he said, "but I'm sure your mother would be happy to go with you."

I fisted my fork so hard it could've snapped in two. "Dude, you could just set aside two hours for your little girl, or is that too hard to do?"

His head snapped in my direction, and I stared into a face that was the older version of mine. His eyes narrowed into slits. "I would've, but I have a busy day."

"She just said it's a weekend. She didn't even specify which weekend."

"Thanks for dinner." He pushed his chair back and rose.

"You're fucking annoying, you know that, right?" I snarled angrily. I heard my mother's sharp intake of breath as she worriedly called out for me to stop, but I couldn't push my anger down.

He was walking away, brushing my words off as if I was insignificant, and damn, did it hurt.

Deep down, the little boy in me yearned for his father's love, his admiration, and not receiving it... it pained.

That pain translated to anger. "You're an ass."

He paused, turned toward me with a ferocious glare. "Watch it, boy."

"You watch it!" I shot out of my chair. "I swear, one of these days, I'll beat you to a fucking pulp."

"Travis, sit."

I ignored my mom's alarmed instruction and glared hard at my father. "You don't even try."

He shook his head condescendingly and sneered down his nose at me. "You really think your mother is an innocent angel, don't you?"

His words stopped me cold. It took a moment for me to gather my wits to muster a response. "Of course, she is. Isn't she?"

He turned to my mother and smirked. "Are you?"

My mother's voice wavered. "Russell, please."

Alarm bells ringing in my ears, I turned to face her. "Mom, what's going on?" Her silence turned me frantic. "What is he talking about?"

Tears pooled in her soft brown eyes, and it was difficult to not hug and comfort her.

She sucked in a shaky breath. "Travis, can we talk about this later?" She reached out to touch me. Her hand trembled. "I have to speak to your father-"

"Mom, tell me!"

"Travis!" Nellie squealed at my outburst. Huxley howled with misery. My heart pounded. I trained my gaze on my shaken mother, ignoring everyone else.

My mother sniffed and cast a pained look at my dad.

"You'll never forgive me, will you?" She sounded so angry and hurt. Tears streamed down her face, and something in me clenched.

"You want my forgiveness?" He sounded as if she was joking to even think of it.

She gave a sad little laugh. "It's funny how I always want things I can't have, isn't it?"

Oh, mom.

I turned on my dad. "If you weren't ready to be a father," I snarled, "you could have used protection!"

He laughed, and I saw my mother suddenly go pale. I looked at her, a questioning look on my face.

"He's right, okay? I trapped him!" She raised her hands with defeat. Her voice shook as she rushed out the words. "I told him I was on the pill, but I actually wasn't. I loved him so much, so I lied, and-and I got pregnant with you so he'd marry me. I'm so sorry!"

I staggered backwards, shocked, a chilling feeling creeping up my spine.

My eyes went to my dad, who looked so pained I could taste it. He spoke in a low, menacing tone. "Imagine it, boy. Imagine how you would feel if your dreams and ambitions were stolen from you."

My fists clenched and unclenched.

It hurt to think about it, really. It was extremely painful, and I never thought of it that way. I knew I'd been unwanted, but I never knew my mom had been deliberate about it.

Looking at it from my dad's side made me understand him, and I felt a rush of blinding fury. My dad looked pleased.

I looked at my mother, who was whimpering pathetically now. Whatever my sister saw in my expression made her cower, and she backed away immediately.

"What you did was absolutely unfair and immoral, Mom, and I'm disappointed." A shocked sob escaped.

I turned to my dad before she could say anything. "But what you're doing is cruel, Dad. You've punished her for nineteen years. Don't you think it's about time you freed her?"

He looked surprised at my response, not expecting me to still take my mom's side. "You don't know what you're talking about-"

"Oh, I know, all right. Look at me." I gestured at myself. "I'm nineteen, and I never experienced any daddy relationship with you since I was a toddler." A shot of pain went through me at the thought. "It's on your head, old man."

I looked at Nellie, who was crying quietly as she wrapped her arms around herself. "Your girl is sixteen," I went on, "and very soon, she'll be all grown up. You'll be wishing she was a baby all over again just so you could share her first experiences with her, but it'll be too late."

I raked a hand through my hair. "Whatever happened with you and Mom is in the past, and we don't dwell on the past. We move on from it. What she did was messed up, but you've punished her enough, and I think it's unnecessary to take it out on your children too. We're your blood. We're all you have."

His expression turned set and grim. If I was hoping I could touch his heart, I was hit with a serious reality check.

He must have a fucking brick for a heart. He looked as unmoved as a tree, and we all saw.

"I'll see my lawyer this week," my mom finally said, trying to sound strong. "I want a divorce."

Nellie let out a sob of distress and grabbed my mother's arm. "No, Mom." Her voice broke. "No."

She quietly shook her daughter off and slipped quietly upstairs, dinner forgotten. My dad looked mortified, as if he couldn't believe what my mom had finally brought herself to say. He also disappeared upstairs.

Nellie sank to the floor, shoulders shaking as sobs racked through her body. She raised haunted blue eyes filled with tears at me. "I don't want them to break up."

"He doesn't treat her right, Nellie. She deserves so much better."

"But he loves her!"

"No, he doesn't."

"He does!"

"How do you know?"

"Because I-" Whatever she was about to say faded as she caught herself. "Because I know."

It was so irritating to see my sister defending a cheat, and I snapped at her. "What do you know about love anyway?"

Her head bowed, her chin resting on her chest. Huxley slithered to her, curled himself on her lap to give her comfort.

"Nothing, brother," she whispered. "Absolutely nothing."

I softened. "If he loved her, he wouldn't have cheated."

She said nothing, and I left.

***

I'm sorry this took a while. I had a busy week, but now it's over.

Thoughts on the chapter? Do we think differently of Frances now?

What about Nellie? Any suspicions on why she thinks their dad loves their mom?

Do vote and comment. Thanks for reading! <3