A/N: Happy New Year! Hope you guys had a great holiday season and, as always, thank you very much for your continuous support!
Chapter 19
Despite the fact that it has been barely two absolutely delightful days since his wedding, Gomez Addams already decided that he utterly loved being married. He loved the fact that there were no more constraints of time imposed upon them and they could enjoy being together unreservedly. It was an indescribable bliss to be able to wake up next to this woman, to create and share their new marriage routines - such as sharing their morning shower together, now that was definitely going to be one of his favourites!
He still couldn't believe how lucky he was to have this exquisite creature in his life - to be able to call her his wife. What an absolute blessing she was to him.
He loved finding out all the little things about her that living together now afforded him - such as the fact that she brushed her hair before bed exactly hundred times, her feet were always cold, she preferred bath to showers and she liked to have her morning coffee in bed - and he loved every single one of those things about her.
"How about this one?" Morticia asked, picking the simple black dress from the wardrobe and turned towards him, pressing the material of her dress to her naked form. She felt almost ridiculously vain - feeling so excited about clothes but her dresses were so black and long and absolutely exquisite that she couldn't, for the life of her, decide which one she wanted to wear first.
"You'll look like a goddess in all of them," her husband replied fervently, tapping at his cigar and let the ash fall carelessly on the floor.
She smiled at him indulgently, admiring him for a moment. He was lying on the bed, propped against the headboard, the towel wrapped lazily around his hips looking like he didn't have a care in the world, content to just lie there and watch her ponder upon the choice of dress for the day - that is, blatantly ogling her. Not that she minded...at all.
"You're not helping, darling," she pointed out.
"I like what you're wearing now best," he decided, grinning at her caddishly.
She tilted her head and regarded him with a mock-scorn.
"I'm afraid going naked is not an option."
"I'm sorry but I'm enjoying the view way too much to be of any help," he admitted.
"Hmmm, I guess it's true what they say…" she mused to herself.
"What?"
"That appetite grows with eating," she quipped, smiling at him coquettishly and he laughed heartily.
"Guilty as charged," he concurred. It was very accurate for it was indeed very apparent that marriage was not going to curb Gomez's carnal appetites in the slightest - not when he was married to this goddess. "But is it my fault you're so delicious, Cara?"
"You do have an excuse for everything, don't you?" she asked facetiously as she approached him slowly, her dress still firmly in her hands, and straddled his thighs, leaning forward to capture his lips in a slow kiss. "Although... you're quite delectable yourself."
"Aha, how about we explore that?" he groaned appreciatively against her lips but she laughed gently and clicked her tongue in denial.
"Mmmmm, later," she promised."I don't want us to be late."
He grunted in affirmation, albeit reluctantly. They were due to meet Dr Fieldman at nine a.m. and he knew she was feeling rather apprehensive at the prospect of meeting her sister there - or rather she was probably worried about Ophelia meeting Gomez, considering how well it went last time.
"Later then…" he agreed hoarsely but couldn't resist running the tips of his fingers against her lower back in a feather-like touch and smirked when he heard her inhale sharply. "Although, I don't know what do you expect of me, prancing around naked like that..."
"Prancing?" she repeated in a mock affront but didn't resist when he started placing soft kisses along her collar bone. "I'm hardly prancing, I was merely choosing my outfit for the day."
"Naked -"
"I can't wear clothes while I'm waiting for my body oil to dry," she insisted.
"Hmmmm, I love this scent," he grunted appreciatively against her skin."Buy the whole barrel of it."
"That's the only way it comes," she smiled and curled her finger under his chin, gently lifting it so he could face her and placed a small kiss on his full lips."Later, darling...later. Let's take care of the things at hand and then...we can spend all night," she purred in between kisses."In the dungeon - "
He grinned at her.
"Told you you'll like it."
"Yes...and it so happens that I fancy showing you later just... how much I like it," she whispered in that slow, sultry bedroom voice of hers and could feel him harden against her even more as he moaned ardently.
"God, Tish, do you think I'm made of stone?" he groaned, pressing her hips against his groin to make his point clear."You make my blood boil."
"Merely giving you something to look forward to...mon savage," she said playfully, eliciting another groan from him.
"There's no way I can wait that long," he retorted hoarsely, taking the dress off her hands and threw it carelessly at the foot of the bed before attacking her neck in a myriad of hot kisses.
"No?" she asked, finally surrendering to his caresses."Well, then I guess we can have...a little foretaste...of things to… come."
Morticia Addams reckoned that the only way they could be on time at the hospital was to leave her husband to dress and prepare in solitude because… well….because it was barely seven o'clock in the morning and they already had sex four times. Admittedly, Morticia seemed to have barely any more self-control than her beloved husband but then how could she have any self-control whatsoever when she was married to this devilishly handsome Castilian? He was too delicious to resist.
Nevertheless, they had previous engagements this morning, therefore, being more prudent of the two, young Mrs Addams decided it was a sensible thing to leave her husband alone to dress while she went to check about breakfast.
She was half-way down the stairs when the sound of a doorbell reverberated through the mansion and she frowned in surprise. Seven o'clock in the morning was hardly a decent time for visitation, in her opinion.
"You better sit down because when I tell you what that son of yours has done this time - oh…hello - "
Morticia tilted her head curiously at the woman before her who was now looking around as if to check if she was at the right mansion.
"Hello," Morticia replied softly. She thought she looked vaguely familiar but she could not, for the life of her, remember where she might have seen her before. "Can I help you?"
"Ehm...well…" the woman mumbled, still looking around and, finally deciding she was indeed at the right place, she regarded Morticia curiously."I'm sorry, who are you?" she asked bluntly.
"I am Mrs Addams," Morticia replied with only a ghost of a smirk when the older woman blinked in surprise.
"No," she decided."You're not Mrs Addams, I know Mrs Addams and she looks nothing like you...is this some kind of a joke?"
"Not that I'm aware of," Morticia retorted, amused. She could swear she met the woman before somewhere. She was tall, slightly taller than Morticia, her eyelashes were covered so thickly with black mascara, they looked almost too heavy and her medium length, gently curled hair had so much hair-spray-created volume on them, Morticia wondered how the woman's neck hasn't snapped yet under all that weight. She couldn't be called beautiful or even exactly pretty but there was something undeniably striking about her. She looked stern - as if permanently annoyed and her voice was no-nonsense sharp - even when she was confused as she obviously was at the moment.
The woman opened her plump lips but no sound came and she faltered briefly, watching Morticia with a curious mixture of recognition, suspicion and disbelief.
"Is there anything I can help you with?" Morticia asked again.
"Well, yes...I suppose. My name is - "
"Constance, dear, what a surprise," Eudora greeted jovially, coming to stand behind Morticia, still dressed in her morning attire, her barely touched cup of coffee in her hand because it was barely seven o'clock in the morning and they were yet to have breakfast - which Lurch insisted on preparing because he found some new, fancy breakfast idea in the recent issue of The Good Housekeeping.
Morticia moved aside to let the guest in, still scrambling her brain where could she have encountered the woman - Constance, apparently.
"Morticia, this is my sister-in-law, Constance," Eudora introduced and turned towards the other woman, who still regarded Morticia intently - or suspiciously, Morticia wasn't sure."Morticia is - "
"You're the woman from the theatre," Constance interjected confidently, pointing at Morticia with her index finger, recognition finally dawning on her and she narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
Morticia's face creased in a gentle frown and then she narrowed her eyes, in the same manner, the woman before her just did.
"Am I?" she asked, clearly amused.
"What's going on here?" Constance asked looking interchangeably from Eudora to Morticia and back to Eudora again.
"What do you mean?" Eudora asked in a tone so utterly perplexed Morticia was duly impressed and bit her cheeks to stop the smile that was threatening to emerge.
"Aunt Constance!" the familiar jovial voice reached them from the top of the stairs."Long-time no see," Gomez deadpanned as he descended the stairs, already impeccably dressed, to join them and tried not to laugh when his Aunt regarded them all with an annoyed look.
"What, in the devil, is going on here?" Constance exclaimed after a good minute of stunned silence.
"Oh, nothing much," Gomez retorted simply with a gentle shrug of his shoulder."Fester blown up the attic again, I got married and Mama's henbane is blooming beautifully this summer. Same ol' same ol' really and how are you?"
Unsurprisingly, he was graced with an annoyed glare from Constance Addams who looked all but ready to whack him with her purse.
"Gomez Addams," she hissed."I know that she," she said pointing at Morticia who was looking more and more amused by the minute. "Is the very same woman you were staring at like a demented fool all night at the theatre and she happens to be engaged to the young Chalon, so you tell me right now. What. The. Hell. Is. Going. On?
"She's not engaged to any bloody Frenchman," Gomez retorted in annoyance."She's married to me. And I wasn't staring at her like a demented fool, I was -"
"You were, actually," Morticia confirmed softly and smiled at him when he turned towards her with a gentle frown."But you were the most handsome demented fool in the history of humanity," she assured, gazing at him lovingly.
"Cara," he smiled at her before placing a soft kiss to her temple.
His Aunt frowned and blinked, utterly taken aback. Her gaze travelled to the woman next to Gomez and then to Eudora - who merely sipped her coffee as if nothing out of the ordinary was taking place at all.
"Did you have your breakfast, yet?" she asked suddenly."Lurch is preparing for us some novelty and you're welcome to join us."
"Hold on, what - yes, of course I had my breakfast, it's not...who cares about breakfast," she replied, utterly confused, before turning back to Gomez." What… so you mean to say that this woman...and you...but not the one from the theatre…then who the hell was the other...," she stammered and then straightened pursing her lips in annoyance before regarding the trio with a purposeful look."We are all going to the kitchen now and have breakfast - "
"I thought you didn't care about breakfast?" Gomez interjected jovially, earning himself another thunderous look.
"We are all going to have breakfast," she insisted again."And you will all explain to me what, in all that's damned, is going on in here."
Constance Addams heard many weird stories in her life, she read the trashiest, the most preposterous of romance novels ever produced but this...this - whatever this was - was definitely in the top ten most ridiculous things she ever heard of. The couple in question barely said two words to her, leaving the tale to Eudora who was all too eager to recount every little detail of this mind-bogglingly complicated love affair.
Constance listened attentively and her lips parted so many times, intent on producing a question or comment or anything really, she was sure she looked to them like a permanently surprised fish. Finally, she curled her plump fingers around her coffee cup and pursed her lips, nodding thoughtfully before turning towards Gomez.
"Well, at least that explains why you were behaving like an absolute lunatic the other night," she remarked. "A jealous maniac - just like your grandfather."
Gomez grunted in annoyance but Morticia smiled at the description and cast a side glance at her husband.
"I happen to find it truly endearing," she remarked softly.
"Just as well," Constance replied, raising her eyebrow pointedly." Because that will never change," she remarked sardonically."We must give an announcement in the papers, though. You can't keep this a secret - this simply won't do."
"We don't want to keep it a secret," Morticia assured."We will give an announcement but I need to speak to my sister first and she… my family is not exactly fond of Gomez," Morticia explained tentatively.
"Ditto," Gonez murmured moodily next to her.
"Why, the devil?" Constance asked in outrage." He's rich, handsome and at the age of fifteen, he already was acquitted of a double homicide. He's a hopeless layabout and a shiftless dreamer - what's not to like?" she defended heartily and Gomez couldn't help but grin proudly at this string of praises."Of course, there's this embarrassing fact of his First Class Law Degree from Oxford but who's without a fault?"
"I think Morticia meant his less than the spectacular reputation of a cad and womanizer," Eudora supplied, smiling meanly at her son but her sister-in-law only snorted derisively.
"Oh, please," she muttered, rolling her eyes for a good measure."Men are what they are, only most of them are more discreet than this one here," she added nodding at Gomez.
"Hey!" Gomez protested but his Aunt looked at him sharply.
"What?" she asked sharply.
"These were mutually agreed upon no-strings-attached, consensual relationships -"
"Trump," his Aunt muttered into her coffee cup and took a small sip before regarding Morticia thoughtfully." I reckon it's less so about Gomez's reputation and more about the business prospects your brother-in-law surely realizes your marriage to Chalon would grant him on the French market - which, let me tell you, is a pure hell to get into for foreign investors in the current political climate."
"Yes," Morticia agreed reluctantly."That too."
Constance pursed her lips again.
"There might be quite a scandal out of it," she mused before addressing the couple." Which is why we should give the marriage announcement as soon as possible."
"Not before I speak to my sister," Morticia insisted firmly."I don't want any further rift nor a scandal. I want it to be dealt within the family...and this may take some time," she admitted reluctantly."It's a delicate situation."
"Pardon me for saying it, but marrying in secret is not exactly an ideal way to deescalate a situation," Constance pointed out and Morticia was trying very hard to glare at her newly-met Aunt."I think the marriage announcement, as soon as possible, is the least we should do. Perhaps it would ease your sister's worry about this marriage."
"I doubt it," Morticia retorted."It's not just about Gomez. My brother-in-law doesn't want to be associated with…," she paused and frowned gently, searching for the right word."With a...ahmm...well with…-"
"Kooks?" Constance supplied snidely and Morticia grimaced slightly at the description but nodded in agreement."Ha! Let me tell you something, my dear - weird is relative," she said and Morticia couldn't help but smile at her fondly. Her father would absolutely love her new family." They gossip about us, they call us kooks but nothing bounds people like money and in this world weird is just a question of money. We're kooks until they want to do business with us and then, suddenly, we're no longer kooks, we're delightfully eccentric."
"That may be so," Morticia agreed reluctantly."However, surely you will agree with me, that there's a whole world of difference between doing business with people whose lifestyles one does not necessarily approve of and being related to them - especially when it comes to my brother-in-law" she pointed out.
"Well, that's true," the older woman replied, tapping her pensively."Still, there were much worse scandals swept under the carpet in this city alone, so rest assured - you handle your family and I shall handle the scandal."
"How?"
"Oh," Eudora interjected jovially."Constance had five husbands and they all died in suspicious circumstances so naturally, people think she killed them all and everyone is scared of her. I think they even call her Black Widow or something along those lines."
"And they never proved anything," Constance supplied proudly.
"You're such an inspiration," Morticia sighed in awe, placing her palm over her heart.
"Why, thank you," the older woman smiled."As I always say, if there's one thing this world needs more of is widows and orphans."
"How true," Morticia nodded, not missing the fact that next to her her husband grunted and shifted uncomfortably.
"Constance always refuses to change her last name after the wedding," Eudora informed her daughter-in-law before turning to Constance."Do you remember how outraged dear Marvin was about that?"
"Hmm," she nodded affectionately."Until I asked him what was the point for me to take his name when he'll be dead soon and I will be a widow."
"And yet that was twelve years ago," Eudora smirked, leaning against her chair.
Constance shrugged but sighed affectionately.
"Hard to kill - just the way I like them."
Dr Bruno Fieldman barely raised his head from the file he was currently reading when he heard a soft knock to his office door. He grunted a half-hearted 'come in' but his face brightened when he noticed the tall, slim silhouette of Morticia Frump enter the room, followed by a dark-haired gentleman who did not look even remotely familiar.
"Good morning, Doctor," Morticia greeted with a warm smile.
"Miss Frump, very good morning indeed," he replied, standing up from behind his desk to greet her.
"Actually, there's been a slight change in my marital status," she quipped lightly pointing at the mane behind her."This is my husband -"
"Ah, yes! Congratulations, I quite forgot your dear sister certainly mentioned you were getting married," the Doctor interjected kindly and extended his hand towards Gomez." Dr Bruno Feldman. A pleasure to meet you, Mr Chalon."
Gomez shook his hand but could help but grimace at the mistake and he could practically feel Morticia tense next to him.
"It's Gomez Addams, actually," he corrected, forcing a softer tone to his voice.
"Oh," Dr Fieldman remarked in confusion."You must forgive me, I was pretty sure Mrs Diamond said your name was Chalon...or perhaps I'm just getting old, I meet so many people on a daily basis, you see...you must forgive me."
"Of course, no hard feelings," Gomez assured with a slightly forced but still charming smile.
"I was wondering why I haven't heard from Mrs Diamond these past two days," the Doctor remarked lightly.
"My sister didn't call?"Morticia asked, before she could stop herself. She couldn't quite prevent the worrying note creeping into her tone which didn't go unnoticed by the Doctor.
"Well, I suppose it was a bit too much excitement for her since our last meeting and of course your wedding," he observed knowingly."I reckon it's a good idea if she takes some time to rest," he added appeasingly noticing Morticia's troubled expression." But please, please sit down," he pointed at the two leather chair opposite his desk.
"How is my mother today?"Morticia asked softly, eager to take her mind off her sister and also desperate to change the subject in case Dr Fieldman felt the need to discuss her recent nuptials in more detail.
"Well, I'm quite pleased with how she reacts to the initial treatment," Doctor Fieldman replied."I got her blood test's results this morning, actually. Her body is not rejecting the potions we've used, so that's very encouraging. Of course, the quicker we can start the proper treatment the better."
"My accountant, Tully Alford, will contact you in regards to arranging the finances," Gomez informed."Whatever funds you need after, you can contact him directly. He will take care of it."
"Yes, that's good - fantastic in fact, I shall have my assistant to see to it," Doctor replied."Have you decided yet on the date when would you like to start the treatment?"
"Yes," Morticia answered, sharing a brief look with her husband."We aim to have everything finalised by the end of the month."
"That's perfectly fine," Dr Feldman nodded."I have arranged for the specialised nurse to come over to assist your mother with the move to Lausanne. Rosemary has been working with us for almost a decade, she has plenty of experience and I trust her completely. She will be one of the nurses assigned to your mother once she's settled in the clinic - so once she's here, we can start preparation for the journey."
Morticia nodded solemnly in acknowledgement.
"Can we see my mother now?"she asked.
"Certainly," Dr Fieldman nodded again."She's on her morning stroll at the moment, I believe, but you're welcome to wait in her room."
Nothing annoyed him more than a non-smoking policy. What a ridiculous state of affairs, more so when the nurse-in-charge had the nerve to inform him that smoking cigars cause cancer and lung diseases - as if that wasn't the whole point of smoking in the first place! The very reason he started smoking at the age of five was, after all, to make sure there was no risk of him dying of an embarrassing things like an old age -and what an embarrassment would it be to have it engraved on his tombstone - 'died peacefully in his bed' - the very thought was terrifying.
But alas! Apparently, the whole damn hospital had a non-smoking policy.
Unbelievable. Absolutely appalling.
He could certainly use a cigar - if a non-smoking policy was annoying as hell then -
"Your sister certainly has a lot of nerve," he finally grumbled unhappily, leaning further in the light-brown armchair and crossing his legs in an abrupt manner.
Morticia barely turned away from the window.
"I was wondering if you're going to mention it," she smiled gently, casting him a side glance.
"I would expect you to be more annoyed than this."
"Darling, if I allowed myself to get annoyed every time something like this happened, I would do nothing else but get annoyed," she retorted calmly.
"I'm annoyed for both of us then."
"And you're marvellous at the task," she deadpanned in an attempt to lighten the mood and by the sound of his amused snort it worked - well, kind of. "Do you think…," she started to ask but suddenly faltered, as if unsure how to dress her thoughts.
"What?" he prompted softly and watch her shrug before finally turning towards him.
"I'm not sure if it isn't too fast - this move to Switzerland and all."
"Too fast?" he asked, his handsome face creasing with confusion.
"You see, on the one hand, I want to get this treatment started," she remarked slowly."On the other... I would like the dust to settle first."
Gomez regarded her tenderly and stood up, making his way towards her.
"But perhaps, it's better this way," he pointed out, embracing her lithe waist."We'll be away, it will give them space and time to… digest it and come to terms with everything."
"Hmmm, perhaps, "she mused unconvincingly, resting her palms on his broad chest."It's just so unlike Ophelia not to at least call and check up on mother. What if something happened - what is she fell ill or - "
"Tish, come one, she knows where you are," he interrupted her gently."You didn't disappear from the face of the earth, and they know the phone number - somebody would have called if there was an emergency."
"I suppose…" she agreed reluctantly.
"Stop worrying," he placated, pressing a tender kiss on her forehead, eliciting a small smile from her. "Everything is going to be fine."
She was about to lean for another kiss when there was a gentle commotion outside the door and a second later the nurse entered the room, leading her mother gently behind her.
Morticia disengaged genty from her husband and smiled at the two women before her.
"Hester, you have guests," the nurse informed her mother gently in her soft Latino accent, after casting Morticia a polite smile in greeting.
Hester looked up and Morticia swallowed heavily when her mother regarded her with a confused look, but then breathed a clear sigh of relief when her features softened and the recognition settled in her blue eyes.
"Morticia," she greeted softly and Morticia felt her heart skip a beat. It still felt absolutely surreal to be able to talk to her mother at all.
"Hello, Mama," Morticia smiled at her and drew her in a gentle embrace.
"You're going to be alright on your own, yes?" the nurse asked, motioning gently towards Hester.
"Yes, thank you," Morticia nodded, taking her mother's hand into her own and the nurse smiled at her before leaving the three of them alone in the room. "Did you have a nice walk?" she asked, leading her mother to her usual armchair.
"Yes," Hester replied slowly, as if choosing the words was a task in itself."Quite nice."
Gomez watched the older woman before him, immediately deciding that whomever Morticia got her looks from it certainly wasn't her mother. Hester Frump looked exactly like an older version of Ophelia. Or perhaps Ophelia looked like a younger version of her mother would be a more correct assessment.
He observed silently as Morticia helped her mother sit in the armchair with such care and tenderness he felt his heart constrict at the sight because it just hit him with the full force how selfish he's been - all that time when he pressed her into making a commitment to him... and this - this is what she had to deal with all that time. He didn't realize just how sick her mother was and looking at her now, it was still hard to believe that it was the heartbreak that put her in such a state.
Hester Frump looked awfully thin - frail, illness-induced thinness that made her look incredibly fragile - as if she could break at any moment. Her blond hair was arranged into two loose braids, framing her thin face, her eyes - that seemed almost too large - were gazing at her daughter softly. She didn't seem to notice Gomez at all.
This is what Morticia had to deal with, this is what she looked at every day, what she was so afraid of and yet still she chose to commit to him, still married him - the enormity of this realization fell on him like a ton of bricks and he suddenly didn't know what to do with himself.
"Mama, there is someone I want you to meet," Morticia said gently, extending her hand gently towards Gomez and he moved closer to her but her mother only smiled at her noncommittally as if not exactly registering her words."Mama, this is Gomez, my husband."
Hester Frump turned her eyes to where Morticia was pointing and narrowed her gaze as in an effort to properly see him.
"Oh... I'm so sorry... I don't seem to remember you," she said slowly after a while.
"No, Mama," Morticia interjected gently, squeezing her mother's hand comfortingly."You've never met him before."
"Oh… oh, I see," she nodded and turned towards Gomez again."You must forgive me... my mind is not...is not very clear."
"Not at all," Gomez replied kindly, gallantly pressing a kiss to her bony hand."I'm delighted to have finally met you, Mrs Frump."
Hester smiled gently, nodding at him and then narrowed her eyes in concentration.
"I'm sorry... I have forgotten your name," she said suddenly, fidgeting uneasily.
"Gomez," he said gently."Gomez Addams."
She nodded faintly in acknowledgement and beckoned to Morticia to lean closer.
"I would like to have some tea, dear," she requested.
"Tea?"Morticia repeated, momentarily confused by the request.
Her mother nodded.
"And some biscuits...please."
Morticia blinked and shared a quick glance at her husband before smiling at her mother.
"Of course," she replied, trying her utmost to fight the disappointment entering her heart."Give me a minute, I will get it for you."
He supposed midday was a bit too early for a drink, even for him, but oh what the hell. There was no one in the house but him, no one to witness this ungentlemanly misdeed.
He reckoned he should meet with Francios and explain - cut this rumours short before it gets out of hand, the sooner the better before the man listens to one too many rumours about his future bride and her acquaintance with Gomez Addams.
Would she really involve herself in a romance with that damn Casanova? If so, he really gave too much credit. He might dislike her and her stubborn attitude but he thought she had more brains than that.
Except - she bloody had more brains than that. She might exasperate the hell out of him, but Morticia wasn't stupid and Jared knew she would never involve herself with any damn Lothario, let alone a womanizer of a calibre of Gomez Addams, so what the hell was she playing at?
Unless... she thought she found a perfect excuse to get out of the prospective marriage with Chalon.
Jared snorted gently to himself, pouring the drink carefully into the crystal tumbler.
That cunning little wench. Create a scandal to get away from an unwanted marriage and who would be more suitable for such a scandal than Gomez Addams? All because she knew how important this marriage was to Jared.
Although he had to admit he had only himself to blame for that, he was perhaps a bit too eager about this whole engagement but well...who could have predicted that his sister-in-law would go to such lengths just to spite him.
"Isn't it a little early for a drink, dear?"
Damn. He didn't even hear her enter the house.
"Well, there's five o'clock somewhere," he replied sardonically.
"Getting drunk in the middle of the day is hardly amusing," his mother scolded firmly, coming to stand next to him.
"A gentleman is never drunk," Jared smirked at her before pressing a customary kiss to her cheek in greeting."And he's never quite sober."
"One of your father's questionable wisdom, no doubt," his mother supplied dryly, dropping her red purse on the coffee table and sat down on the sofa, her manner, Jared noticed, somewhere between tense and annoyed.
"He still lives by it," he pointed out."I would offer you a drink but I'm sure drinking so early is beneath you so tell me, what brings you here? Did my lovely wife send you to check on my alcohol intake?"
"Hardly," Dorothy replied, raising her eyebrow at him knowingly."She seemed inclined on pretending to be oblivious."
"As a good wife should," he supplied with a small smile before raising his glass to his lips and taking a small sip of the amber liquor."Is she still hiding at your place or decided to come home?"
"Hiding?" His mother repeated incredulously without missing a beat."She's not hiding, she's resting. You and Morticia are so focused on yourselves, you're forgetting all about her," she accused.
Jared regarded her sardonically before resting the bottle of whisky at the bar.
"Don't go overboard with all that love, care and compassion - it doesn't suit you," he retorted sarcastically.
"What the hell is the matter with you, lately?" she asked sharply.
"Well, that's more like it," he smirked.
"You have a family and a new baby on the way and this," she pointed to his full tumbler." Will not help."
"I beg to differ," he retorted languidly, settling himself comfortably on one of the cream-coloured armchairs."I find it very helpful."
"Anyway," his mother grunted gently obviously deciding that pursuing the current subject will get her exactly nowhere."This isn't what I wanted to talk to you about."
"Ah, I can only guess what the subject of this conversation is going to be about," he replied with an indulgent smile."Does it have the name of Gomez Addams in it?"
"So you've heard," she retorted warily."Who's told you?"
"Dear Howard came to me with a piece of well-meaning advice."
"That fool!"
"Fool or not, he has a point or two."
"Yes, well," his mother admitted reluctantly." It's a delicate situation."
"So you keep saying."
"Listen to me," Dorothy retorted sternly."She's just a young woman who's been put under a lot of pressure -"
"Oh please, you can't be serious," he drawled, rolling his eyes in annoyance.
"Try, for once, to be more empathetic towards her."
"Surely, you're jesting?"
"I'm deadly serious," she insisted." When she comes home, I don't want you to lash out on her. I want her to understand the grave error of her ways not to ground her in the assumption that she made the right choice in choosing that man over us - her family, do you understand?"
Her son only grunted in acknowledgement but it was enough for her to see that he recognized the wisdom behind her words. However reluctantly.
"I can't be too nice to her, though, she will never believe it for a second," he pointed out sardonically.
"Obviously," Dorothy rolled her eyes in annoyance."In fact, it's best if you let me do the talking."
Morticia didn't know what she expected and she really didn't know why did she feel so disappointed. She knew not to get her hopes up for anything spectacular, she even warned her husband about it and yet she allowed herself to hope and got disappointed. It annoyed her that she felt that way at all. It's just… she was so so blissfully happy and she wanted her mother to be happy for her, she wanted her to like Gomez but it seemed as if she barely registered his presence at all and for some unexplained reason it hurt.
She knew she should not allow herself to feel that way. She knew that this was still more than what she had for all those years of her mother's illness but...it was hard not to feel disappointed. She longed, desperately, for things to be finally normal. She didn't want arguments, illnesses or scandals to constantly spoil her happiness but alas - she had little hopes for that.
On the other hand, becoming bitter about it won't help her either.
"Tish, are you sure you're okay?" her husband asked gently - again, as they entered the house.
She knew he was worried as she stayed mostly silent and contemplative on their ride home. Nevertheless, he let her have her space to think, which she was grateful for. He only asked her if she was all right and she assured him she was fine but then spent the ride home mostly silent and staring out of the window. She couldn't help it.
She nodded gently but then bit her lower lip and shrugged gently.
"I'm sorry it couldn't be more than it was," she said suddenly and swallowed heavily.
"Tish, Cara... it's fine," he assured, curling his fingers gently at the back of her neck and brought her forward for a tender kiss. "She can't help it. Don't let it bother you."
"I know but I thought...well, it doesn't matter, it was foolish," she admitted, shrugging helplessly again."She can't help what she is and I don't know what on earth was I expecting - I just…," she paused, swallowing heavily and looked at him with such a desperate gaze, he could almost feel it burning marks on his heart."I just want her to get better, Gomez. I want her to be in my life again - happy."
"She will," he assured her tenderly, wishing desperately that there was any way in the world he could make this better. He couldn't stand her being sad and he wished there was a way where she would not have to deal with all this. She was way too young to have all this burden placed on her shoulders and he couldn't help but feel angry at her family. Angry that they caused her constant worry one way or another. "I love you," he whispered. It was the only thing that came to his mind but it seemed to work nevertheless because his wife smiled at him happily.
"I love you too," she replied softly, pressing her forehead against his."So much," she added, capturing his lips in a gentle kiss.
"Hey, how about you go have a relaxing bath, hmm?" he proposed."While I call Tully, arrange everything with him and then perhaps we can see about that move to the master bedroom?"
She smiled and nodded at him, grateful that her husband had this uncanny ability to just recognize when she needed her own space.
"You're the best husband a woman can have."
"Hmmm, feel free to reward me later," he quipped cheekily, glad to finally elicit an amused laugh out of her.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Gomez asked his brother when he found Fester in the library, pouring over the paperwork - something he usually steered clear from whenever he could.
"Ehmm...delaying the inevitable and ignoring the reality around me?" Fester replied forlornly.
"Excuse me but that's my job," Gomez deadpanned but Fester only grunted at him. "Come on old man," Gomez smiled at him encouragingly."It won't be as bad as you think."
"I don't know what to tell her," he admitted, propping his chin on the pillows of his hands dejectedly.
"The truth."
"Which one?"
"The one in which you're adorable, a well-meaning liar who wanted to impress her so he invented a string of harmless fibs," Gomez supplied candidly."Just apologize and promise not to lie again."
"That sounds overly simplistic," Fester decided."And sort of...anticlimactic."
"Do you want me to come with you as moral support?" Gomez proposed, spreading himself on the sofa languidly and linked his arms behind his head.
"You can't, it's Thursday," Fester pointed out.
Gomez frowned and raised his eyebrows in bemusement.
"So?"
"You promised to help Bar," Fester reminded him.
"Ah hell, I forgot about that," he groaned, tilting his head back dramatically."Maybe I should let his sorry arse rot in jail for a few weeks…"
"You're so thoughtful, darling," the amused voice reached them from the direction of the door. "I think it's a brilliant idea."
Gomez turned in surprise. Apparently, his wife decided to forgone the relaxing bath idea but he was pleased to notice she no longer looked sad either.
"See? My wife approves," he grinned caddishly, sitting properly on the sofa so Morticia could sit next to him.
"Aha...she would," Fester smirked knowingly.
Morticia only smiled at him, not even bothering to deny his subtle accusation. They all knew she had no fondness whatsoever for their cousin and she certainly did not find it necessary to prove them wrong.
"What are you still doing here?" she asked Fester."Aren't you supposed to be crawling at someone's feet, begging for forgiveness?"
"It's only three o'clock and I was thinking of acquiring a gift beforehand," he mumbled in embarrassment.
"Well, a gift won't hurt," she admitted kindly."But I'm sure she would be more appreciative of a sincere apology."
"Can't I apologise with some expensive gift?" he asked hopefully.
"No, Fester, you can't," she smiled at him."Apologies and a gift might work better if you insist on buying anything."
"She probably won't even speak to me," he complained dejectedly.
"Your chances certainly decrease as the time passes," Morticia pointed out firmly. "Go on, shoo, you've made your bed, now lie in it. I need to speak to my husband privately anyway and you need to go and beg for forgiveness."
"Is this a euphemism?" her husband inquired hopefully before his brother had a chance to reply, earning himself a swat in the chest from Morticia.
"No," she denied but looked at him indulgently."An actual conversation shall be conducted," she insisted and couldn't help but smile when he grunted unhappily.
"Will carnal pleasures be involved at any point during the aforementioned conversation?" he deadpanned and tried very hard not to grin when his question elicited an outraged inhale of breath from his wife.
"Behave yourself, you wanton," she scolded, pinching his tight.
"Why?" he asked cheekily."We're married," he added, smiling widely when his wife covered his lips with her hand to prevent him from any more talking.
"Gomez, you really need another hobby," Fester remarked teasingly already standing up to give them the requested privacy. He could only stand so much of their sexual banter before turning into an embarrassed pile of mush. "I think I'll go with Mama and Lurch to the market. I can buy Dementia some maggot cheese."
"A maggot cheese as a pre-apology pre-crawling gift?" Morticia asked, clearly bemused.
"Well, who doesn't love a maggot cheese?"
Morticia raised her hand gently as if to stop him and opened her mouth to suggest perhaps some more appropriate gift but then...oh what the hell, no gift is going to help here anyway.
"Well, you better hurry then," Morticia said with her hand still firmly placed over Gomez's mouth."I think they are about to leave now," she informed him and watched him nod at her.
"I'll see you later," he waved at them and promptly disappeared from the parlour, prudently closing the door behind him.
The moment the door closed with a soft click Morticia turned towards Gomez and removed her hand from his mouth, her eyes dancing with amusement.
"Your mother should have washed your mouth with soap," she chastised.
"That would be utterly futile undertaking, cara," he retorted and immediately captured her smiling lips into a loving kiss." So," he continued knowingly."What is it that you need to tell me and why do I have a feeling that I'm definitely not going to like it?"
"How perceptive of you, mon cher," she smiled, purposely sliding onto his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck.
"French, huh?" he teased, tightening his hold on her hips and already in the process of devouring the lace-cladded flesh of her forearm. "Must be really bad...you vixen…"
"Hmmmm," she murmured with pleasure when his lips reached the column of her neck." Darling, I want to go see my sister."
He blinked in mild confusion. That's it? That's what she was uneasy about?
"Of course, we can go tomorrow," he murmured against her skin and slowly straightened to look at her. He thought she looked as if she was already preparing herself for him to be difficult and felt a slight annoyance at her behaviour. Surely, she didn't think he would ever object to her seeing her own family?
"Actually, I was thinking it would be best if I go on my own," she said gently." I want to get it out of the way and I don't want her to find out about this from someone else," she explained."And Constance is right, it's just a matter of time before the whole city knows."
"I don't like the idea of you facing them alone," he admitted tensely." We're in this marriage together and we should tell them together."
She smiled at him and raised her shapely eyebrow as if amused by the idea.
"Can you bear being in the company of my dear brother-in-law without wringing his neck, breaking his hands, dismembering or causing him any other grievous bodily harm?"
Gomez opened his mouth to reply but no words came and he narrowed his eyes in concentration, thinking of the most suitable response.
"I can…try," came his slow reply.
"Hmmmm, I'm sure you can," she agreed in a tone that suggested the exact opposite.
"It doesn't look good if you go alone," he insisted and exhaled audibly when she raised her eyebrow at him quizzically."It looks like I don't care...like I'm leaving you alone to bear the consequences," he explained tensely.
She looked at him startled - truthfully, such an idea didn't even cross her mind.
"I know you care," she whispered."But...it's a bit more complicated than announcing our marriage. I don't want to create unnecessary drama."
He looked at her sceptically.
"Have you met your sister?" he teased and she couldn't help but smile."You're really worried about her?"
"I am," she admitted."It's not like her to not to at least call and check on our mother. I just want to make sure she's all right."
He nodded understandingly.
"How long will you be there?"
"I'll try to be back by dinner time," she promised.
"Take Lurch with you," he proposed.
"He's taking Mama to the market. Besides, there's no sense for him to wait hours for me," she insisted. "I'll be fine on my own."
"I would feel more comfortable if I came with you," he insisted.
"Yes, I know...my knight in shining armour," she teased gently, wrapping her arms more firmly around his neck and placed a soft kiss to his lips."But I would rather not add any extra wood to the fire," she supplied gently. "My sister is upset as it is, I don't want to… I simply want to talk to her - calmly, explain...and I can't do that with you there, her temper and your temper is not a good mix," she explained." She's pregnant and I don't want to stress her more than necessary. I want to speak to my nephew as well," she admitted." He will be confused when I'm not there anymore and I don't want him to ever think that...I don't know, that I've abandoned him."
"Tish," he said tenderly."He's only two-years-old, he won't understand."
"He will," she insisted before adding slowly: "I want him to hear it from me, not...I don't want them to turn him against me by telling him things that are not true, do you understand?"
He nodded, even though he thought she was expecting far too much from the child. Charlie was just a little boy and the situation itself was far too complicated for him to understand. Still, if it made Morticia feel better or at least less guilty, he reckoned there was no harm in that.
But then a thought occurred to him and he gazed at her uneasily.
"Tish, your family… you do realize that they might not let you see him for some time?" he pointed out awkwardly."They won't be happy about...us."
She nodded and swallowed uncomfortably.
"I know," she whispered."I can't do anything about it, though...I just want him to know that…I want him to understand…," she faltered and smiled at him humourlessly."I know...it's foolish kind of thinking."
"It's not foolish," he denied softly."But you can't expect too much from a little child," he pointed out gently.
She didn't reply, instead, she leaned into him and rested her head on his broad shoulders.
"I know but ...it occurred to me that my sister may never forgive me," she mused out loud. There was not a trace of woe in her tone, she was simply stating the fact, a reality to be accepted.
"No Tish, your sister loves you," he assured with a surprising conviction before placing a comforting kiss to the crown of her head."She wants the best for you...it's just, you have different ideas of what that best is. She'll come around, you'll see."
"You sound very certain," she retorted softly.
"Well, I've learnt a thing or two about forgiveness these past few days," he replied pointedly."It might take some time, but if she cares about your happiness, she'll come around."
"I truly hope so," she smiled at him."What time do you need to be in court?"
"We're not meeting in court," he explained."We're meeting with the other side to negotiate some reasonable settlement because Bar will die of embarrassment if that case will ever hit the court."
"He will?" she asked hopefully.
"No, I meant it as a hyperbole just to express how absolutely mortifying it would be for him," he explained, grinning at her crestfallen expression.
"Oh," she grunted in disappointment.
The moment this conversation was out of the way and whatever the outcome, Morticia decided to really and truly burn any dress in her possession that was not floor length. She hated those knee-length dresses more than she could articulate - or rather not the dresses themselves but what they represented - Jared's way to subdue her, to subjugate everything that she was.
She decided to wear one this last time, in order to avoid unnecessary wardrobe-related conflict that would undoubtedly ensue if she decided to wear one of the dresses she bought yesterday. No, that would be too blatant and she wanted to tread carefully.
She actually wished Gomez was with her, even though, it would probably wouldn't do any good but she had to acknowledge the fact that she felt apprehensive. Apprehensive enough to know that it was only because of the fact that she was so worried about Ophelia that she was still here at all. The need to just drive back home was almost overwhelming.
Home.
How quickly the old mansion claimed its place in her heart as home in the way that this house with its immaculate, pristine cleanliness never could. Now, with her husband and her new family back at the mansion, she felt more alien here than ever before.
She wondered briefly how bad would it actually be to let the things just take their course - let them find out from the newspaper announcement and go from there. She could just abandon this whole plan and return home. Let them do whatever they want. Let them seethe and wallow in their anger. She didn't owe them any explanations.
She knew she wasn't going to that but the thought was comforting nevertheless.
She looked at her engagement ring and the wedding band, contemplating her next move. She thought over and over again how to approach this conversation but, for some reason, all the ideas deserted her the moment she parked the car on the driveway in front of the house.
What now? If Ophelia was indeed well what should she tell her and how? How to make her understand? What if her sister was too angry to listen?
If Ophelia feared for her reputation then, surely, the knowledge that Gomez was committed to her - that they were indeed married should calm but then, she wasn't naive enough to think, even for a second, that her reputation was the biggest problem here. She knew both of them counted on her marriage to Francois - Jared especially and the prospective business outcomes that would be practically guaranteed to follow.
On the other hand, what arguments did they have now? She was married, that's done. They could not contest it. The money for the treatment was secured without her even touching upon her inheritance. What excuse did they have now? None. They may disapprove of her marriage all they want but to publically disapprove of her marriage would be equal to admitting that all they cared about was marrying her off to Francois and they were not going to do that. Or at least she didn't think they would.
Granted, this wasn't the marriage they wanted but...well, they could not reasonably expect her to just bend to their will because they wanted a business deal - because that's what her would-be marriage to Francois was - a business deal. This was her life, though, she wasn't a puppet they could just pull the string on and she was bound to do their bidding. She had every right to make whatever decision she wanted about her own life.
She took a deep breath and looked again and her wedding band. She could not bear to take it off, even for a short time. Besides, she had to tell them or they would find out from the announcement in the papers, which, come to think of it, would be sufficient payback - but she wasn't interested in paybacks. She wasn't vengeful. Truly, all she wanted was for them to understand her decision. Understand and accept it. Ophelia she cared about the most because Jared and Dorothy could go to hell for all she cared.
The house was strangely quiet, considering it was mid-afternoon and Charlie should be around making his usual mayhem but the house seemed completely silent - as if deserted. She could not help but feel that there was something ominous in this silence and felt her stomach churn with worry.
She had to find Ophelia and make sure she was all right. She knew her sister was upset with her but surely it couldn't make her ill or harm the baby.
She slowly made her way towards the parlour but it, too, seemed to be empty -
"Well, look who's finally found her way home," Jared's sardonic voice reached her just seconds after she stepped into the room.
Such tone would usually grate on her nerves but now felt oddly comforting. He wouldn't sound like this if her sister was ill and she breathed out a sigh of relief.
She turned towards him with a blank expression on her face. Her gaze immediately travelled towards his left hand, noticing the empty tumbler. Oh, wonderful, nothing better than talking to Jared after he had a drink - and judging by his state, it wasn't his first liquor of the day. He was sitting in the armchair nearest to the empty fireplace, his body language relaxed almost languid - but it was alcohol-induced tranquillity, there was nothing truly content about his mannerism - quite the opposite, he actually seemed on edge.
"If it's not my dearest sister-in-law," he continued sarcastically leaning back against the armchair. "What do we own the honour of gracing our humble layers?"
She briefly bit her lips into a thin line and swallowed the tart reply as she made her way further into the room. She casually dropped her house keys into the crystal bowl in the middle of the coffee table - she won't be needing those anymore. The sharp sound of the metal connecting with the crystal seemed to fill the space around them and the uneasy feeling settled in her stomach. She didn't want to deal with that fool now. She just wanted to speak with her sister.
"Where's Ophelia?" she asked in an even tone forgoing the greeting.
"Aw, how nice of you to finally ask about your sister," he mocked silkily."Since you don't seem to give a single fuck about her well-being lately. Tell me, where the hell have you been for the past two days?"
"That," she replied slowly."Is none of your concern."
"It is very much our concern," the familiar voice retorted behind her and Morticia's heart immediately flooded with concern. Somehow, the presence of Dorothy Diamond, in the middle of the week no less, never spelt anything positive. She turned and watched the older woman join them in the parlour. "What on earth came over you - upsetting your sister like that and then disappearing for two days without a word? She was beside herself with worry, it took hours to calm her down."
"Is she all right?" Morticia asked immediately."Where is she?"
"Of course she's not all right," Dorothy almost spat."She's worried sick about you."
"I'll talk to her-"
"You'll do no such thing."
Morticia frowned, taken aback.
"She's my sister, you can't just forbid me talking to her," she said in disbelief. Perhaps it was the fact that Morticia had to spend so much time with her lately, but the mere sight of Dorothy was aggravating her.
"I will not have you argue with her again," Dorothy insisted, coming closer.
"I did not argue with her," Morticia replied calmly but couldn't quite prevent the defensive tone. It took all her strength not to take an involuntary step back. She did not like the sudden feeling of being cornered by those two and their accusations.
"Your sister is expecting a baby," Dorothy continued as if she didn't hear her."And all you think about is yourself. What were you thinking, Morticia - we've told you, we've warned you about that bloody Lothario. How could you do this to us?"
"You know nothing about him," she defended, despite herself."And I have done nothing to you."
Jared snorted derisively, letting out a spiteful laugh, tilting his head back.
"Good God, I don't know what's worse your constant defiance or your sheer stupidity - do you really think you're any different from the whores who shared his bed before you?" he asked crudely. "Are you really that stupid?"
"I have no intention to justify my decisions to either of you," she retorted firmly."I want to speak to Ophelia."
"And what, pray tell, would you like to tell her?" Dorothy asked."That you've decided to betray your family, to betray her - despite all she's done for you - to become nothing more than a common harlot to Gomez Addams? What you've done," she snapped."Was to slap your whole family as well as your mother's well-being in the face."
"Whatever I want to speak to her about is between me and Ophelia," she insisted, trying her best to stay calm."And I certainly do not have to stand here and listen to your insults. Please tell my sister if she wants to talk to me...well," she paused and allowed her lips to curl into a small smile."She knows where to find me," she added purposely and made a move back towards the door.
She barely had a chance to make few steps when she felt Jared's strong grip on her arm and he spun her towards him abruptly.
"Let go of me," she said firmly, glaring at him viciously.
"Jared - "
"Listen to me, you ungrateful wench," he hissed and threw his tumbler on the floor and noticed his mother flinch as the crystal broke against the impact peppering the floor with its glass remnants."Enough of this nonsense with Addams, do you understand?"
"Oh, poor Jared," Morticia said in a slow, condescending tone."I'm afraid that ship has already sailed."
He frowned, unsure of the meaning behind her words.
"What the hell do you mean?"
"Exactly what it sounds like," she replied calmly and then added in a deliberate tone."All the rumours you've heard about me and Gomez Addams...are true, every single one of them. I'm afraid you will have to look for other business opportunities because I have no intentions of marrying Mr Chalon."
"Jared don't - " Dorothy gasped sharply when Jared struck Morticia across her face and then gasped again, involuntarily placing her hand against her chest, when Morticia barely winced and retaliated immediately, the sharp sound of her hand connecting with Jared's cheek seemed to fill the entire space around them.
Jared took a step back, whether from the surprising strength of her strike or because of how utterly taken aback he was by her action.
"Don't you dare to touch me again, you drunken fool," Morticia challenged calmly but with the evident steel in her voice and saw Jared's face muscles contract in fury.
"What the hell are you trying to do here, Morticia?" he asked angrily." Don't you have an ounce of common sense behind that thick skull of yours? Are you really so fucking stupid that you will throw away everything for a few weeks of fun?" he continued with barely contained fury."Do you really think you matter to him because you let him fuck you? Do you think he'll lift a finger for a little whore like you?"
"Jared, stop it," his mother pleaded and Morticia vaguely noticed that her voice was unusually soft, unsure - as if she realized she was losing control over this encounter - if she ever had any." Both of you stop this, this is not the way."
"No, not this time, mother," he said silkily and swiftly grabbed Morticia's hair into a tight fist. He was only faintly aware of his mother's gasp behind him."I've told you, explicitly, to stay away from than bloody Lothario. Was I not explicit enough, Morticia?"
"You can go to hell," she retorted, trying not to grimace at the smell of alcohol coming from him."Take your hands off me."
"I wish your father could see you now," he told her with disdain." How proud would he be that his precious little girl decided to become nothing but a whore to that damn playboy?" he asked pointedly. He wanted to provoke her. Her calmness infuriated him more than anything and judging by how her dark eyes flashed with fury it just did the trick.
"Do you really want to discuss who's the bigger whore in this equation?" She retorted coldly. "What would my father say about the fact that his daughter is married to a man who constantly cheats -"she flinched as he grabbed her hair tighter, pulling at them sharply.
"Shut your damn mouth," his spat threateningly and then struck her again so hard she felt instantly disoriented, her vision blurry, the pulsing sensation near her temple spread rapidly towards her cheekbone before being replaced by sharp pain.
"Jared, stop it - " his mother cried out and he felt her tug firmly on his arm but he snatched his arm away and looked at Morticia.
"You will not ruin it for me, do you understand?" he replied."I will not let you ruin this and if this is what it will take for you to finally learn your place then so be it," he remarked calmly even though his chest was still heaving with anger. He stared at the woman before him - her nose was bleeding and the was a bruise already forming on her left cheekbone but the damn wench still dared to stare at him defiantly, mockingly.
He wanted to hurt her, he realized. He wanted to wipe that look of her face once and for all.
Morticia used the back of her palm to wipe the blood slowly trickling from her nose and looked serenely at the crimson smudges.
"I believe I've already ruined it," she said mockingly."You are nothing and this just proves it," she added.
"Shut up," he hissed."Don't push me, Morticia or I swear to God you're going to regret it."
She tilted her head to the side and regarded him sardonically.
"Oh yes, I'm sure it makes you feel manly and powerful, doesn't it?" she goaded him."What's more powerful than to hit a woman, you bloody coward. go on, show your mother what she's raised -"
He struck her again, harder this time - hard enough for her to grunt in pain, her legs gave away and she instinctively pressed her hand to her bruised cheek but he grabbed her both hands and pressed his nails into the insides of her wrists until the grimace of pain crossed her face.
"You really don't know when to shut up, do you?" He asked as he pushed her roughly against the wall, pressing her both hands against her chest so she couldn't move and heard her exhale sharply at the impact. He pressed his fingers deeper into the soft flesh and smirked, this time she couldn't help but wince. He was hurting her and yet he bloody, mocking gaze never left his.
"Take your hands off me," she hissed at him and tried to jerk her hand away from his grip but he was holding her so tightly she could barely flex her fingers.
"Make me," he retorted threateningly.
"Stop it!" He heard her mother furious voice."Both of you. Jared, leave her alone!"
But he couldn't stop it. Not when he could see the blatant mockery and disrespect in those eyes. Not when she wanted to destroy everything that mattered to him. And that bloody look. Who the hell did she think she was, staring at him like this? He took her under his roof, he gave her home, he paid for her mother's damn medical treatment and her bloody school and she gave him nothing but defiance. Damn wench wouldn't know respect if it slapped her in the face.
Insolent woman.
Why was she doing this? Why was she provoking him? Had she no sense at all? If she only stopped looking at him that way - he could not stand that look, he hated that look more than he hated her. That look that conveyed all the mockery, the blatant disrespect she always had for him - despite all that he's done for her. He wondered if she would still stare at him so definitely if he showed her just how little she meant?
He struck her again and it caused her to almost slide to the floor against the wall, his own palm was stinging but he couldn't help but marvel how good it felt to cause her pain. He grabbed her, pressing his fingers into her shoulder forcefully until he heard her hiss in pain and fisted his hand into the material of her dress, pulling her up roughly to her feet.
He spared a brief thought how difficult it will be to get her blood out before he pushed Morticia forcefully on one of the cream-coloured sofas. It will probably make more sense to replace it. Cream sofas was a stupid choice anyway.
Ah, look at her now - leaning against the arm-rest, her pale hand over her bleeding nose - not so defiant now, are we? He will beat that defiance out of her, he will teach her respect, once and for all.
Her eyes met his again, her dark eyes shone with such an unbridled hatred it made him falter for a second but then he watched her lean forward and spit the blood straight on the bright carpet.
Damn insolent woman.
If she can't learn to respect him, then she will learn to fear him. If she can't see what's good for her, then she will learn it the hard way. She will learn to think twice before disobeying him again.
He felt her knees pushing against his stomach, and her fists against his chest as she tried to fend him off but she couldn't. Of course she couldn't, stupid wench. He was too strong for her. Didn't she know that? What an idiot.
It's all her fault. She made him do it.
Why didn't she listen? Why did she have to be so damn defiant, why did she have to ruin everything, he thought as he delivered his strikes, another on her face, her arms and shoulders and ribs until she could do nothing but shield herself helplessly with her arms against his wrath and his hands were getting sore but he didn't stop - he couldn't stop. And it felt good - to finally see her so powerless and at his mercy, this knowledge - that he could kill her if he wanted to, it felt good, he felt in control and he hoped she knew that too. He wanted her to fear him, he wanted to finally break her - literally and figuratively.
She will never dare to look at him with this blatant insolence again.
He could vaguely hear her muffled cries of pain and his mother's desperate pleadings as she tried to pull him off Morticia but it all seemed to him far away, otherworldly. As if he were outside of it all. Nothing mattered to him.
Nothing mattered except hurting her.
There was no reasoning with Morticia anyway. She didn't want to understand. All she wanted was to defy him at all cost. Just to spite him. But no more.
This was the only way. She would never give up otherwise. She would never break. She would never learn. It was her fault it had to be this way, her own damn fault. If she couldn't learn to respect him then he will demand it from her.
He was getting tired and finally, his mother managed to push him away and only then it fully registered.
The smudges of blood on the cream-coloured sofa.
His hands - swollen and bloody, his own blood and adrenaline pumping through his veins. The frantic rise and falls of his chest. His mother panicked voice - was she crying? Or maybe it was Morticia. It was so faint he could not tell whom the voice belonged to. Honestly, he couldn't care even if he wanted to.
"What have you done?"
Oh, it was his mother then. Why was his cheek stinging so much?
"Oh God - " his mother's voice again, it was muffled by the blood surging through his veins.
He felt suddenly thirsty.
He needed a drink.
A/N: Thank you for reading!