A/N: Welcome to the penultimate chapter, after which there's just an epilogue left.
As always, thank you very much for all your support!
Chapter 25
Ophelia was no stranger to anger but she simply could not remember the last time when anger consumed her so ferociously and completely.
Actually, perhaps not.
She remembered very well, indeed. Her father was the rightful recipient of much of her anger. Wrath, really. How she hated his inbred selfishness, his bullshit philosophies about living one's truest self when it was obvious it was all an excuse to simply live his life as he saw fit, without any concern of how that affected his wife or daughters or anyone else really.
And here they were. Repeat from the past.
She meant what she's said to that self-righteous Addams woman, how dare she say Jared deserved being treated like this? Who was Gomez Addams to bestow his judgement upon him? What did they know about Jared, save for what Morticia told them? Nothing. They knew nothing about Jared or Ophelia or even Morticia herself - they all barely knew her and that woman had the audacity to claim that she knew Morticia better than Ophelia.
Yes, of course Jared shouldn't have hit Morticia, no matter how angry he was, no matter what she's said to him. Even though Ophelia knew how irrationally stubborn and infuriating her sister could be and how tempting it was sometimes to just beat the common sense into her. Anyway...how stupid, to provoke a drunk man. Who does that? Even a half-wit imbecile would know not to goad a drunk man and Morticia wasn't an imbecile, far from it. She knew exactly what she was doing, not only she's caused the scandal by marrying Gomez Addams, she also wanted to provoke Jared into violence, so she could cry the victim in front of Addams, clearly so. There was no denying the fact that her sister had a particular talent to bring the worst in Jared, even when he was sober.
How did she do that, though? How did she manage to manipulate them so thoroughly and so completely? Why were they all - the Addams woman and Francois, acting as if they were asking of Morticia some despicable things? After all, arranged marriages had been around since forever and who said they were less successful than marrying for love? Granted, it wasn't the most romantic of circumstances, Ophelia understood that, but it was hardly the end of the world.
Love was great but it was also impulsive and irrational. At least with the marriage to Francois, she knew exactly what she was getting. Jared's lawyers would have made sure to draw a marriage contract to ensure Morticia's future would be safe and secure. She'd have everything a woman could ever dream of - financial security, a stable and trustworthy relationship that the whole family could have benefited immensely from but no, she preferred to be a whore to that bloody man. Every woman would have cut her own hands off for a mere prospect of marriage into one of the wealthiest families in France and her sister traded all so she could end up like her mother-in-law - with a husband who fucked everything that had two legs and tits and never even bothered to be discreet about it. Couldn't she see that Gomez Addams was the exact replica of his father?
Ugh, perhaps they're both as bad as each other. Perhaps Dorothy was right. What was the point of talking to Morticia? Her choices were clear, her action spoke louder than any words ever could. She didn't care about them. When it came to a choice between her family and her own desires she followed the same route their father had. The apple really doesn't fall far from the tree. Too bad it took so long for Ophelia to finally see it.
It was really unfortunate Charlie loved Morticia so much. How will she explain to him when he's already asking about her constantly? What should she tell him?
"Mrs Diamond," the firm yet polite vice of her driver interrupted her musing."We're at the hospital."
Ophelia nodded absently, collecting her bag next to her and waited for Tolya to open the car door for her.
The good thing that Jared was making good progress in his recovery - excellent, considering the extent of his injuries.
She liked how proud he was of her when she mentioned to him that she took care of his business. He was initially surprised, amused even, but in the end, she could tell that he was impressed and it made her feel really good. She felt proud of herself and thought that perhaps all this could be a new turn in their relationship. They will go through this nightmare and come out stronger than ever. They will prove to Morticia, to everyone and anyone who's ever doubted the strength of their union - they would prove them all wrong.
And they will start by stopping sweeping their problems under the carpet.
It was common knowledge that Morticia and early mornings did not go together in one sentence but for her to be awake at sunrise was practically unheard of and, if she was up at such time at all, it usually meant that she was stressed and hadn't slept well in the first place.
None of those was the reason for her early wake today, though. The only reason she was up so early was much more mundane and uneventful, namely that the weather has taken a turn to unbearably hot and humid, clouds heavy with perspiration and yet not a single drop has fallen. It was uncomfortable to sleep, even though they have slept naked and with a window open but even in the early hours of the morning, when the sun has barely started its daily course there was no respite from the humid heat.
She felt good, though, serene and rested despite the little sleep she got, her husband being so attentive to her last night in the most delightful of ways had something to do with it, she was sure. He was dead to the world himself when she left him and went to bathe in the coolness of the lake and he was still sleeping soundly when she returned to the cottage twenty minutes later.
Morticia took the towel off her hair and squeezed the excess water from her black tresses and hanged the towel neatly on the wooden railing of the terrace before heading to the small kitchen area and took a well-used pestle and mortar from the shelf and poured some coffee beans inside to grind before heading back for the terrace to grind them as to not to wake her husband just yet. This mad, jealous Castilian needed his rest, despite his inhuman stamina.
Kitty was already out and about chasing after some rodent or other and spared her only a small joyful roar upon seeing her before going back to the merry chase again. Morticia shook her head and smiled at his antics as she settled on the wooden stairs and set the granite mortar in between her legs before grinding the pestle into the coffee beans. She inhaled contentedly as the first rich scent of freshly grounded coffee reached her nostrils. Although she hoped the noise wasn't going to wake Gomez up, she wanted those few minutes of solitude to collect her thoughts.
She was so glad they've decided to come here, even those few days that they've been at the cottage have done wonders to her peace of mind. She realized it was partly because the topic of what was awaiting her - them - was entirely and deliberately avoided. It was so easy to just be here together and forget that there was a world waiting for them outside. They talked, they went for long walks, cooked together… simple things but they felt blissfully reviving. Her husband was amazing, he never once pressured her into a conversation she wasn't willing to have, even though she knew they will have to discuss certain things before the left from their brief retreat. Nevertheless, the elephant in the room aside, she felt more relaxed than she felt in days, she loved this uninterrupted time together, she loved their conversations, their banters and his relentless flirting. Even such mundane tasks as cleaning after their meals felt to her wonderful she could not look at her husband without feeling almost overwhelmingly grateful.
"What do you have there?" she asked quietly as Kitty made his way towards her."Awww, you caught your first mouse? Well done, my darling. Go put it next to Gomez on the pillow for mocking your survival skills."
Whether the animal understood her or whether this was his plan all along, Kitty - with a dead mouse still firmly placed in his jaws, proudly marched his way towards the bedroom and Morticia followed him with an anticipatory grin on her face.
Kitty unceremoniously dropped the dead rodent right in the middle of Gomez's chest, startling him from his sleep, and she watched as her husband frown gently in confusion before taking a deep breath and blinked several times to rid himself of the haze of sleep.
Kitty promptly licked his cheek.
"Ugh…," he mumbled, his voice still gruff from sleep."Verily, this is not the face I wanted to see first thing in the morning."
Kitty roared and bounced happily, obviously waiting for Gomez to notice "the gift" and Morticia has to bite her cheeks to prevent herself from laughing.
Gomez looked down to his chest where the small mouse, slightly bigger than his thumb was lying there.
Dead.
"Did you hunt this?" He asked, picking the rodent by its long tail, and received another happy roar. "Well done," he praised, petting the lion behind his ear."That must have been quite a battle."
"It was, "his wife's amused voice reached him from the direction of the bedroom door. "He fought like a hero."
"I'm sure he has scars to prove it," he muttered, still patting Kitty's mane. "Here," he said and swung his arm, sending the little dead rodent outside the window and sure enough Kitty jumped out after it."Doofus," he muttered.
Morticia shook her head and smiled at him.
"You're up early," he noticed with a discernable note of worry in his tone.
She shook her head, as if to tell him there was nothing to worry about.
"It's too hot to sleep," she explained."So I thought I might as well start on our morning coffee".
He looked at her curiously, as if judging if there was a hidden layer under her words and then, seemingly satisfied, he allowed his lips to curl into a small smirk.
"Making coffee, huh?" he remarked casually.
Too casually, in her opinion.
"Waking up early to make your husband coffee -"
"Watch where you're going with this, husband," she warned him and crossed her arms against her middle, waiting for him to continue.
"Are you going to make breakfast too?" he teased before turning to his side, propping his head on the pillow of his hand.
"I was but you chucked it outside the window."
He snorted.
"I have seen pickles bigger than that mouse."
"He fought like a hero," she insisted.
"All the animals in this forest will be talking about this magnificent event for the generations to come."
"Mock all you want, it's his first kill and it's majestic."
"Sonnets shall be composed in commemoration," he continued, pushing himself into a sitting position, his words muffled by the cigar already dangling from his mouth as he took the first puffs of the fragrant smoke and rested his back against the wall.
She thought he looked unbearably sexy like that.
"You're awful," she laughed."You have no appreciation for his superior hunting skills."
"Hmmm, I have other things to appreciate instead," he retorted suggestively and beckoned for her to come closer."I appreciate how absolutely delicious you look wearing my shirt,"
She sighed in a mock exasperation but came over and gracefully straddled his tights, then, to his unbridled delight, leaned closer to place a slow morning kiss on his lips, resting her hands against his broad chest.
His hand curled softly at the back of her neck as he pressed her closer and deepened their kiss until she let out a gentle moan.
"You sure, you're okay?" he asked gently against her lips.
"Fine," she assured and smiled at him lovingly."I'm fine, really," she added, touching his face in a gentle caress."Breakfast?"
He growled suggestively, deep in his throat, before flipping them over in one swift motion so that she was under him and nestled in his arms.
"Oh, definitely," he whispered and promptly claimed her smiling lips into a loving kiss.
Jared Diamond almost groaned in annoyance at the sight of a long plastic cup and a straw. He was so tired of this fuckin baby formula they were feeding him with he could just gag but since he couldn't feed himself with his hands thoroughly bandaged and immobilised and he refused to be fed as some helpless infant either there was nothing left but those godforsaken fortified shakes.
Oh hell, the bloody milkshakes were the least of his problems.
It wasn't even the fact that he couldn't move a muscle without a searing pain shooting through him like wildfire, he could deal with that. He refused to take painkillers stronger than over the counter varieties because he wanted his head clear. He needed to keep his head clear, he couldn't afford not to, he couldn't afford his words slipping uncontrollably.
The problem was that he miscalculated, he miscalculated severely, he simply didn't expect that Addams would bother so much on an account of that little whore. Although come to think of it, he should have expected it. After all, Morticia took the art of crying a victim to the new levels and few men would be able to see past her act. He shouldn't have allowed her to goad him so, he shouldn't have hit her but … God, he just couldn't stand her. He couldn't stand what she was, everything she stood for and, most of all, her bloody disrespect. He didn't care what she thought of him but she bloody owed him some gratitude and respect for all he's done, for all he put up with her over those years. He hated her for provoking him, he hated her so much he could barely stand it. It was her fault that his marriage balanced now perilously on the tip of the sword and he will never forgive her that.
He was immensely grateful that his mother kept her cool head about the situation. He was beyond certain that without her handling Ophelia and this whole disaster of the situation, his wife would never forgive him. If she knew the truth, his marriage would be over in a flash and it was now up to him to make sure she'd never find out the truth. He still didn't know how his mother managed to turn this situation to his advantage. Why, Ophelia even apologised to him, she was so incredibly guilty over her sister's actions. Jared felt incredibly guilty as well because poor Ophelia has nothing to do with any of it but what was the alternative? Tell her the truth and lose her and his son, as well as the baby she was carrying? Never. He will gladly make the sacrifice of her sister, he will make sure their relationship was beyond repair if it meant he could save his marriage.
Damn Morticia and her bloody Lothario, only that untamed, insolent wench could have had the audacity to royally fuck everything up like that.
The door to his room opened gently, interrupting his musings and he turned towards the noise.
"Hey," he greeted his wife with a smile.
"Hey," she replied back and her gaze landed on the plastic cup."Another gourmet meal?" she asked before placing a soft kiss to his cheek.
"Best one yet, apparently," he quipped and was glad to elicit an amused smile out of her. He felt somewhat apprehensive around Ophelia, he was constantly terrified he will slip up, that he will say something that will make her found out the truth. He was probably becoming paranoid but he couldn't help it. Still, it was better to steer clear from such topics."Caramel cheesecake flavour."
"Sounds divine," she laughed gently, sitting on the chair next to his bed."Although I'm sure with a broken nose everything must taste the same anyway."
"I'll survive," he replied lightly."How is the business going?"
"Good," she nodded and smiled."Harrison is a jackass."
"Told you," he chuckled."Did he already tell you that women and business do not go together?"
"More or less," she admitted."He told me that he was more than willing to take over in your absence."
"I sincerely hope you told him where he can go with that well-meaning idea."
"No, but I was tempted to," she laughed gently."Charlie's been asking about you."
"You know, I never knew I would be missing reading 'The Ugly Duckling' for the thousandth time but I actually really do."
She flashed him a comforting smile.
"I guess it's all about perspective, isn't it?" she mused somewhat enigmatically and he frowned gently as if confused by her tone. She cleared her throat and her hand went to her hair, twirling the short, blond tresses around her finger in an unconscious gesture."I was actually thinking," she continued tentatively."I have been thinking… a lot … you know about the whole thing."
She paused briefly and he couldn't help the overwhelming sense of dread that swept through him, that she knew or she suspected and his heart started beating so madly he felt instantly dizzy.
"Ophelia - "
She lifted her palm, effectively stopping whatever he wanted to say even though he had no idea what he wanted to say. He'd say anything. Everything. He would say whatever he had to not to lose her.
"I know that there have been things," she continued slowly."Some... issues that we should have discussed but... we just let them sort of hanging in the background instead and," she paused and compressed her lips into a thin line.
He thought his heart might burst.
"And that's got to change," she said finally."However difficult or painful those things might be, do you understand?"
His mouth felt suddenly to dry to speak so he only nodded feebly.
"Whatever Morticia has said," she continued hoarsely." What she accused you of...I would like you to tell me the truth… whatever that truth might be."
She was offering him - them - a lifeline. He knew that whatever he'd tell her now she'd accept and to lie now would be an unacceptable travesty and nothing less than a nail to a coffin of his marriage. He thought that perhaps it was all salvageable, they could still be happy, just as they were in Paris but different.
He loved her, he loved her so much. Her and the family she's given him and he was such an idiot, such a despicable fool.
He would tell her the truth and apologise, and beg and beg and beg and they would work it out. They would be happy. They would be happier than they ever were.
She deserved the truth.
"No," the lie rolled off his tongue with alarming ease, his heartbeat was so fast he thought it would burst any second."I swear to you, I'd never… you're everything to me, the mere thought that you could believe her… I can't stand it."
She watched him passively, her face smooth, devoid of any reaction to what he just told her.
"I love you...so much," he continued desperately and looked away briefly."I know there are...things...I know… but I would never do that, the very idea… is disgusting, I would never disrespect you like that and... and for her to accuse me and in front of my mother … it was unbearable. And I couldn't stand it… but I'm really sorry I hit her."
The time stretched agonisingly slowly as he waited for her reaction - anything at all, anything but this unbearable silence.
"Ophelia -"
"I'm sorry I had to ask," she whispered finally, looking down to her entwined hands."It's so upsetting that she made me doubt you, even for a split second."
"I never meant for this to get out of hand, darling I promise you," he continued hoarsely and he meant it. He meant it desperately.
"I know," she said tenderly."I believe you. I'm sorry too, more sorry than I could ever say. I'm sorry it came to this, for everything you had to endure because of her."
His body was trembling and he felt dizzy with relief - with relief, and guilt and dread because now the future of his marriage depended on a very fragile lie. He was determined to make this work though, he would tell this lie so many times until it won't be a lie anymore. It will become a fact. It will become their new truth.
"No more, though," she whispered and swallowed heavily."We'll get through this, no matter what."
Gomez Addams sighed contentedly and he wrapped his arm around Morticia's shoulders and place a soft kiss to her hair when she leaned into him, placing her palm on the small of his back.
The after-dinner walks became a sort of a ritual since they arrived at the cottage and he enjoyed them immensely. Actually, he immensely enjoyed every single moment he could spend with his beloved querida. He was happy to notice that their little getaway seemed to have indeed a very positive effect on Morticia. She looked content - lighter somehow as if the load has been lifted off her shoulders and that unbearable sadness about her was gone - not entirely but it was a whole lot of difference from just a few days ago.
Gomez Addams has decided that as soon as they were able to, he would treat his wife to a proper honeymoon - hell, they would go on a honeymoon at least once a year - anywhere she dreamed of going and more.
Gomez Addams has also decided that when gifting Kitty to Morticia he managed to acquire the most nonsensical animal in the world. The three of them were currently having a nice evening walk along the lake line - naturally because Kitty followed them everywhere - and he meant everywhere. They had to resort to leaving him outside the cottage for the night just to be able to get some quality time together because the damn beast insisted on sleeping with them, in between him and Morticia
In fact, it seemed like every time Gomez managed so much as to put his arm around Morticia, Kitty was there with some asinine stunt or other. Morticia found it hilarious, he found it irritating as hell. Especially, when his beloved querida told him she couldn't decide who was the bigger jealous maniac, Gomez or Kitty.
Like now, for example, they were merely walking together, Gomez's arm resting around his wife's shoulders and so much as leaned towards Morticia to place a soft kiss to her temple and that daft cub immediately managed to dig out some stick and brought it to Gomez to throw it for him.
"Kitty, you're not a dog," Gomez reprimanded, taking the stick from his jaws."You're a lion - the king of the animal kingdom, a majestic predator - act as such," he insisted but Kitty only wriggled his long tail and jump at Gomez, pressing his paws into his thighs and attempted to grab the stick from his hand.
"Just throw it for him," Morticia laughed, entirely too amused by their antics."He's a baby, he's still exploring his majestic predatory skills."
"Ha," he snorted and took a wide swing with his arm, sending the long stick flying into the lake and sure enough Kitty went after it. Gomez stopped in his tracks."Did you see that?" he asked in disbelief, pointing after Kitty with an open palm as they watched the cub dive into the water and shot back with a terrified whimper."He does that every single day - "
"Don't you dare call him a pea brain again," Morticia forewarned, pointing at him with her index finger.
"Don't have to," he retorted, sneaking his arms around her lithe waist."This pretty picture speaks a thousand words," he added, nodding his head towards the soaked lion cub, before finally claiming her lips into a soft kiss. He could swear he couldn't go on longer than half-an-hour without feeling those glorious lips upon his."God, I love being married," he mused all of a sudden."I should have gotten married years ago," he said and laughed when he heard her outraged intake of breath.
"To whom?" she asked, pinching his forearm for a good measure.
"To you of course," he smirked.
"Ha! I'm of barely legal age to you as it is, sir," she teased.
"Hmmm, I keep forgetting what a brat you are," he retorted immediately, eliciting an amused laugh out of her. "Let's go for a swim."
"You can swim, I can watch."
"Nah, I'll teach you to swim," he insisted, ignoring her moan of protest, already dragging her towards the lake.
"If you let me drown I'll kill you," she warned him
"Promises, promises - "
"I'm serious," she told him as he led her further into the lake.
"We'll start with floating," he announced, blatantly ignoring her sweet death threats and sneaked his arm under her knees, picking her effortlessly and she immediately wrapped her arms around his neck.
"Just relax," he prompted."You're rigid as a wooden board, you will never learn to float that way."
"I've seen plenty of floating wooden boards," she retorted smartly.
"I'm right here, I will catch you before you drown," he promised her as he helped her stretch n a smooth surface of the lake.
They could hear Kitty's unhappy roars but the cub stayed on the hard land, obviously brave enough to chase after a stick but not brave enough to save his mistress from swimming lessons.
"What a little coward," Morticia muttered.
"Kitty!" Gomez called happily towards the animal." Mommy called you a coward!"
He laughed at the sharp inhaled of her breath.
"I did not," she denied vehemently before adding sheepishly."I meant it in the nicest possible way."
"Okay, relax," he reminded her, his arms firmly under her."You have to feel one with the water."
"Is that Shakespeare?" she teased.
"Want to learn how to swim or not?" he asked but there was a clear note of amusement in his voice.
"So very not."
"Well, you have to," he insisted." It's an important life skill. Ready?"
"No, and don't you dare to let go of me."
"On two -"
"Are you mad?"
"One -"
"Don't you - "
"Two," he said silkily and immediately released his arms from under her floating body.
Morticia let out a huff of surprise that she was still floating and then before she could make a single comment about it, she went under the water. She came back a second later, spitting water and firmly in her husband's strong arms.
"I hate you," she coughed gently, smoothing her wet hair to the back and wiping her face from the water.
"All of two seconds of floating," he teased grinned against her lips."So proud of you, cara mia."
"I'll kill you," she threatened but before she could do so, he already claimed her lips in a ferocious kiss.
The days flew by faster than any of them would like and the fact that they would soon have to go back to face the reality around them descended on them slowly but with a striking impact.
She will have to face her sister and attempt to explain her choices, attempt to reason where emotions were still, undoubtedly, running high although she loathed the very idea of explaining herself. It almost implied that she was guilty of something and what was her offence? That she fell in love and wanted to live her own life.
What was the difference between living life true to one's values and being selfish, though? Was there any? Perhaps selfishness was an inherent feature of living life on one's terms. Perhaps one inevitably hurt their loved ones in the process? Perhaps there are always casualties?
And yet, it all felt so ridiculous.
What choice did she have against this love, that came to her like a hurricane and then there was no going back? What was she supposed to do?
She sensed his presence before he materialized next to her on the terrace stairs and handed her a fresh cup of henbane tea. She watched him sit carefully on the wooden floor beside her, balancing two cups in his hands.
"Thank you," she smiled at him lovingly, accepting the hot beverage."It feels so good to be here," she said, looking at him softly."With you."
"I am a delightfully charming company," he replied in a deadpan manner grinned at her charmingly when she laughed and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.
"You don't have a modest bone in your body," she scolded half-heartedly as she took a sip of her tea.
"No," he retorted, placing soft, unhurried kisses to her exposed arm."I have other bones to make up for it, though" he added suggestively with a low growl against her neck.
"Your mouth is pure filth, darling."
"Feel free to punish me."
"You like it too much for it be ever considered a punishment."
"I can't deny that," he laughed.
She turned to look at him then.
"I don't want to go back," she told him in a soft whisper."It's so easy to forget the world here."
"It won't be so bad, Tish," he said, caressing her inner thigh in a comforting manner. "The thought of the confrontation is often worse than the confrontation itself… I know something about it."
She nodded and compressed her lips in a thoughtful manner.
"You know, my father…," she started gently and paused for a moment, moistening her lips before biting gently at her lower lip." He's often told me...well, he told us - me and Ophelia - that the only true way to live is to leave according to our values," she said."That the reason people end up unhappy was that they've compromised on their values, on who they are," she paused again and turned her gaze towards the lake."But it occurred to me lately that although he did live his life as he wanted, nobody else did because he never compromised on anything… everyone else had to, everyone conformed to his way of life… even if it hurt," she said, turning her gaze back at her husband."And it did hurt. Ophelia said that our mother sacrificed her life for him and what did he sacrifice for her? Nothing. And she's right, I can see that now."
"So your parents' relationship was not perfect," he stated carefully." But this was the arrangement they chose, they made their decisions, even if it was far from ideal… it doesn't mean they were unhappy."
"He lived the same life he led before only with a wife and two children...and my mother sacrificed everything for him," she retorted more sharply than she intended."Ophelia's changed her whole life for Jared and now she's married to a man who constantly cheats on her and she can't see that. She can't see she's chasing after illusions," she added and then paused and laughed mirthlessly."Although, that's probably what she thinks about me."
"You are not your father, Tish," he said softly."As I'm not mine. They don't define us in any way. They don't define who we are or the choices we're making"
"No," she agreed."But I too put my own desires above everyone else's."
"And what was the alternative?" he asked."Pleasing everyone else?"
She shrugged in reply and took another slow sip of her tea.
"My sister didn't want me to be unhappy," she assured and he was slightly irked at the defensive tone in her voice."She meant well. I guess she was only trying to do best under the circumstances."
"Yes well so did Hitler," he retorted in a deadpan manner."God save us from the people who shove their idea of happiness down our throats."
She looked at him with a half-amused, half-incredulous expression on her face.
"Surely you don't compare my sister to Adolf Hitler."
"No," he assured with an amused smirk."But she can't force you to live a life in terms of what she thinks is right, or happy. None of them can."
"I know, Francois said the same thing," she admitted."But it's really hard for me, Gomez … they're my family, Ophelia and Charlie, and I really love them. I can't bear the thought that I need to choose... it shouldn't be that way."
"No, it shouldn't," he agreed and placed his hand behind her neck gently, putting his cup away. He was suddenly desperate to reassure her, to prove to her that he was worth her sacrifice, that he'll spend the rest of his life showing her that she's made the right decision.
He cupped her cheek and pressed his lips against the smooth skin just below her cheekbone, where the faint bruise was still visible.
"My father…," he started tentatively." Well, you know how he was, it's hardly a secret... but he's always told me that mother was the woman of his life, that he couldn't imagine his life without her," he said."But I know now what an utter absurd is to claim something like that. You cannot claim to love someone and hurt them like he did hurt my mother, it's unthinkable. The mere thought that I could hurt you even in the slightest way is to me unbearable. I can't even imagine holding another woman in my arms, I can't think of any other lips I wish to kiss but yours. It's like... in one day I woke up a free man and fell asleep as your slave," he said, caressing her face lovingly."Loving you is my life now, and it will be my death… and I wouldn't have it any other way. I will die one day with your name on my lips and you will be my last breath."
She will never be able to get used to this open adoration. There will never be sufficient words with which she could respond to this. She knew that he meant every word, that he will live every word of that promise as if it was sacred - and to him, she knew, it was. There was not a shadow of a doubt that he was the best decision she's ever made, the most wonderful hurricane that ever entered her life and they will worship each other forever in the most magical ways.
She curled her fingers behind his neck and swallowed heavily, resting her forehead against his.
"I love you," she whispered hoarsely against his lips before capturing them in a firm kiss."God, I love you so much."
"This house is the coolest thing I have ever seen in my life," Elena announced peeking through each window in Morticia and Gome's new bedroom.
To Morticia's utter amusement, both of her friends insisted on helping the married couple moving their things to the master bedroom, despite the fact that both of them assured them they need no help at all. Yet, here they both were, helping - and she used that term loosely because Morticia was sure they'd have finished that move hours ago if not for the said 'helping'.
"Oh, come on, you know damn well why we're here, "Elena told Morticia, in an utterly exasperated manner. "Just accept our half-arsed excuse we've conjured so we could come around to check up on you and blatantly snoop around - wow, imagine what the Halloween party must look like here."
"You will find out in a few months," Morticia assured, walking in and out the walk-in closet, amused by her friend's enthusiasm. She really didn't realize just how many items of clothes her husband owned until they had to move it all to another closet. She had no idea how he managed to fit it all previously in his bedroom because even with all the space in the walk-in closet, it was filling up at an alarming rate.
"I can't wait," Elena squealed, coming over to check out the progress."Jesus Christ, how many pairs of shoes does your husband own?"
"Truly, I lost count half-an-hour ago," Morticia replied facetiously.
"Tish, where do you want me to put this desk?" Michael's strained voice reverberated from the direction of the door and both ladies turned to see him carrying a dressing table in both hands, half resting on his abdomen.
"Oh, wonderful, it already arrived," Morticia clasped her hand in front of her. "It's not a desk, it's a dressing table."
"Oooooh vintage - I love it," Elena commented, touching the smooth, polished mahogany.
"Oh, pardon this faux pas," he drawled sarcastically."Where do you want this dressing table?"
"Here against the wall please and thank you."
"This thing weighs a ton," he groaned.
"All those hours in the gym and you struggle with a little table?" Elena teased. "I love the little drawers," she added."Does it come with the mirror?"
"It's supposed to," Morticia replied.
"It's downstairs, together with the chair," Michael assured."Gomez will bring it."
"Lovely."
"Wow, this closet is huge," he commented walking inside and stopped in front of a full-length mirror, judging his reflection for a moment before his face creased in an unhappy frown." I think I've put on weight," he complained out loud."Does it look like I put on weight? Don't answer that - hey is that Gomez's clothes?"
"No, they're mine," Morticia deadpanned, halfway through the inspection of her new dressing table.
"Haha."
"So…," Elena started tentatively, opening one of the drawers and peeked inside."Ophelia didn't try to contact you at all?" She asked gently.
Morticia shook her head.
"Not a word."
"Did you try to contact her?"
"Not really," she admitted with a slight shrug of her shoulder.
"Not really?"
"Well, not at all actually."
Elena murmured in acknowledgement.
"To be honest, knowing your sister, I was expecting she'd jump at your throat the minute you came back," she supplied brazenly."Silence is not at all what I was expecting."
"No," Morticia agreed solemnly.
It was worrying, admittedly. Morticia had many scenarios running through her head but absolute silence from her sister was certainly not one of them.
"Tish… don't worry," Elena took her hand and gave it a light squeeze."What will happen, will happen. You've done nothing wrong here."
"I know that," she nodded."But -"
"No buts," Elena insisted."It's hard, I know it's hard but… we're all here for you, okay?"
"I know," she smiled." And I do appreciate it...it's just…she's still my sister."
"Exactly," Elena pointed out."Your sister might be a bit of a snob but she loves you and, in time, she'll see how ridiculous and unfair this whole thing was to you."
"What if she doesn't?"
"She's not an idiot," Elena assured."She just has to digest the whole thing."
"Well I don't know...my grandmother hasn't spoken to her sister for forty years," Michael commented loudly in an off-handed manner."I think by now neither of them even remember what was the beef about."
Elena turned towards the closet where Michael was apparently busy inspecting every piece of outer garment owned by Gomez and glared at him.
He's obviously sensed her glare because he turned towards her.
"What?"
"Is this how you want to cheer her up?" Elena asked sharply, folding her arms against her middle.
"Well… have you met her sister?"
Elena opened her mouth to reply but then narrowed her eyes in a contemplative manner and her lips moved soundlessly.
She turned towards Morticia.
"Don't listen to this jackass," she told her, placing two hands on Morticia's shoulders."All will be well, you -" she paused when a sound of a loud whistle came out of the wardrobe." What the hell is he doing there?"
"Michael Covey," Morticia called."What on earth are you doing in my closet?"
"Ehmm…a research?"
"A research," she repeated slowly.
"Tish, his wardrobe is...sublime," he almost squealed in awe."The materials, the cut, the finish...I have never seen such fine craftsmanship...well," he added with a blatant smirk."Except my own, of course."
"Of course."
"Oh, by the way, I got the reply from the admission office," he offered lightly and both of his friends turned towards him expectantly.
"And?" Elena prompted.
"I didn't get in," he announced.
"Oh no, I'm so sorry," Morticia said softly and then frowned and narrowed her eyes."Or am I? Because you don't look very disappointed," she added in confusion.
"Disappointed? He looks positively elevated," Elena pointed out."Maybe it's post-rejection stress disorder?"
Morticia frowned.
"There's such thing?"
"No idea, but these days they have disorders for everything," she quipped and Morticia raised her shapely eyebrow before nodding in agreement.
"I didn't get in," Michael interrupted pointedly with a dramatic pause." But it doesn't matter because Gomez helped me to get me a paid apprenticeship with none other but… Gi-ven-chy," he practically squealed."Do you know how often they offer paid apprenticeships? Paid apprenticeship at Givenchy- it's a dream!" he sighed with glee before pointing his index finger at both women in an accusatory manner."And if you'll tell me you don't know the house of Givenchy I will scream."
"I know Givenchy," Gomez quipped, holding Morticia's dressing mirror in both hands, his ubiquitous cigar dangling from his lips. He deposited the mirror on the top of the dressing table and went over to his wife, his hand immediately rested on the small of Morticia's back and she smiled at him warmly. "In fact, I know every major fashion house in existence past and present."
"As every person in the world should," Michael supplied."It's an elementary education."
"Well, this is blatant nepotism," Morticia stated, partly because it was true and partly because she had no bloody clue who this Givenchy was.
"You're saying it as if it's a bad thing," Gomez grinned at her.
"What nepotism?" Michael asked, clearly outraged. "Gomez sent my work to his friend at Givenchy who got in touch with a friend at LVMH who in turn offered me a place in their work/study program - how is that nepotism? Gomez simply believes in my creative genius and so do folks at Givenchy."
"Thanks for pumping his ego, Gomez," Elena rolled her eyes."Now he's going to be unbearable."
"Well, what are the connections for if not to use them?" he asked brazenly." Anyway, Mama's told me to announce that dinner is ready."
"Ugh, I've really got to watch my waist," Michael mused unhappily.
"Don't be daft," Gomez said dismissively."You look fantastic."
"You really think so?"
"Of course I do!"
"Yeah, I guess you're right," he decided, still staring at his reflection in the mirror." By the way, where did you get that jacket from? It's divine."
"Which one?"Gomez asked, entering the closet.
"The burgundy one."
"Ah, it's one of my favourites," he told him."I got it from Milan."
"Must have cost a small fortune."
"Ah, what's a fortune!" He asked dismissively."When it comes to clothes one should always invest in quality craftsmanship, every piece I own is handmade, it's a piece of art. They feel like a second skin and last me for years and years."
"Tish…," Elena muttered in disbelief."These two are the biggest divas we'll ever meet."
"It's impossible to disagree," Morticia smiled and shook her head in amusement as she watched the two men discuss... clothes.
"Let me show you those shirts," she heard Gomez say."Finest poplin cotton, finished with white gold threads, wears better than any silk ever does. Almost two thousand dollars apiece - a real bargain if you ask me."
Elena blinked, then frowned and blinked again.
"He spends two thousand dollars on a shirt?"
"He spends three thousand dollars a month on his cigars," Morticia quipped affectionately and smiled when her friend's jaw practically dropped to the floor.
"What's your sister worried about, then?" Elena continued."Even if you divorce him, you get like... half of his fortune in a divorce settlement - you're set for life either way. It's a win-win situation."
Suddenly all eyes in the room were upon her and particularly an annoyed glare of one Gomez Addams.
"She's a romantic at heart," Morticia assured him promptly." I swear."
Ophelia smiled at her son as they left the hospital premises after a brief visit to her mother. In the midst of every disaster that happened over the past few days, it was so wonderful to see her mother interact with Charlie and she was obviously touched when he presented her with the picture he's drawn for her although Ophelia could tell she was a bit overwhelmed by just how loquacious the little boy and she had to ask twice for his name but … God, it was a world of difference between now and just a few weeks ago.
She could hardly believe it was really happening. This idea of having an actual conversation with her mother and to see her play with her only grandchild was something that mere weeks ago where so deeply buried in the sphere of far-fetched ideas she wouldn't even dare to dream of any of it happening and yet here it was.
"Charlie, you need to hold my hand," she reprimanded gently but firmly still.
"No, mama," he retorted stubbornly."I'm a big boy," he insisted and as if to prove his point, he started walking even faster ahead of her.
"If you run away, mama will put you on a leash like a doggy."
"What doggy?" he asked curiously without slowing down.
She had to bit her cheeks not to laugh at the question.
"Well, I don't know...any doggy."
"A puppy, okay mama?"
"Charlie, hold my hand or I will carry you like a baby," she told him sternly.
"I tell daddy on you," he announced with an adorable frown.
"Yeah? Or maybe I will tell daddy on you?"
"Not nice to tell," Her son replied stubbornly."Mama, when can we go back to daddy?"
"Soon munchkin, I promise," she regarded him softly.
"Yay!" he exclaimed, running happily.
"Charlie please hold my hand," she reminded him and finally, to her relief, the little boy allowed her to take his small hand in hers. She really was in no condition to chase him across the car park.
"Where did daddy gone so long?"
"He wasn't feeling well," she explained."He had to stay at the hospital with a doctor."
"He was not playing sense ball?"
"A sense ball?" she frowned gently in confusion.
"If you don't play sense ball and get hurt ouch," he explained.
"Ooooh, you mean sensible," she smiled despite herself."Yes, daddy wasn't very sensible and got hurt."
"We tell Nana on him, yes mama? Mama!" Charlie suddenly exclaimed happily before stopping abruptly."Mama look!" he shrieked and pointed to the right side of the car park."Tishy!"
"Charlie no! Wait -" she said but it was too late because the boy already let go of her hand and darted across the car park towards his aunt.
Morticia barely had a chance to step out of the car when she heard her name being called in a high pitch shriek and her heart skipped a beat when she realized immediately the source of the voice.
"Charlie," she whispered and watched, as if frozen, as the little boy ran towards her across the car park without any thought for the cars around him. She immediately started moving towards him to get him out of the way but her husband was quicker, swooping the boy off his feet and into his arms in a split second and the boy let out a shriek of delight at being practically thrown in the air.
"You have no sense of self-preservation, pup," he told him."You and Kitty should meet."
"Gomez!" Charlie greeted happily.
"Charlie!" Morticia was beside them and picked him up immediately, instantly pressing soft kisses to his chubby cheek."What did I tell you about running away?"
"A car will hit me and my brain 'splode boom!" He replied promptly and gestured an explosion with his hands for good measure.
"That's right, "she nodded." That was not sense ball at all. You will say sorry to your mother for running away," she told him and unsurprisingly the boy let out a loud groan, arching against her in a dramatic manner.
"But I ran to you!" He pointed out." 'Cos I missed you so I ran to you!"
"I missed you too, you little rascal," she whispered hoarsely, caressing his soft blond hair in a gentle gesture. "I missed you so much."
"Me too!"
"Charlie!" Ophelia's breathless voice reached them a few seconds later." Come here puppet."
Charlie turned towards his mother with a huge toothy grin on his face.
"Mama look it's Tishy!"
"Yes, I can see that," she replied calmly."Come here, please, we need to go."
"No, mama, we stay with Tishy," he informed her firmly.
"Tishy is busy," Ophelia retorted pointedly."Daddy is waiting for us."
"But mama - "
"I said no," she said firmly and almost groaned when she noticed Charlie's crestfallen expression and knew that he was just a few seconds from a full-blown cry.
As if on a cue, the boy's eyes filled with tears and he buried his face in Morticia's neck, sobbing ardently.
Morticia compressed her lips, unsure what to do, but pressed the little boys closer to herself and placed a comforting kiss to his blond hair.
"Charlie...darling, don't cry," she tried to placate but the wailing continued in earnest and she looked at her husband in mute desperation.
"Come on, pup," Gomez tried to soothe, touching his little back gently."Do you want to go see some ducks in a pond?" he asked but was only met with a wailing nooooooo as the boy clung tighter to Morticia's neck."Come on, let's have a walk and your mother can talk to Tishy."
"Go to hell, don't touch him," Ophelia snapped.
"No mama," Charlie shook his head and covered his ears."No yelling, not nice. Say sorry."
"Sorry, darling," she said tensely."I have no intention of talking to either of you. Charlie, poppet, come on let's go."
"Ophelia," Morticia called, propping the little boy in her arms before adding softly: "Please."
"Let me take him over to the pond," Gomez offered gently. "You can talk privately."
Ophelia glared at him but offered no words of opposition and he decided to take it as consent, turning towards the boy.
"Come on pup, let's go look at some ducks, you like ducks, don't you?" he asked.
Charlie looked at his mother for permission and Ophelia nodded at him somewhat tensely. She didn't at all like how familiar her son was with that Castilian bastard, that he took Gomez's hand without hesitation and allowed himself to be led to the pond in the garden nearby.
"Gomez," she heard him address Addams happily."No ducks, okay? Dinosaurs arrrr arrr."
"Dinosaurs?" Gomez replied jovially. "Why, now you're talking, pup."
Once they were out of earshot Ophelia turned to her sister. She immediately noticed the faint bruises on her face, but overall, she looked remarkably well for someone who was supposedly abused to the point of ending up in the hospital.
"I don't have time for your lies, Morticia," she said coldly before her sister could so much as open her lips."I guess you're happy at last. Everything turned out as you planned now, didn't it?"
Morticia felt her jaws stiffen and she had to physically restrain herself not to cross her arms against her middle in a defensive manner. She had nothing to be defensive about.
"What exactly do you think I planned, Ophelia?"
Ophelia snorted ungainly.
"Don't act coy, it really doesn't suit you."
"Then stop talking nonsense, it suits you even less."
"Was that really the best you could do? Stage that little drama so your husband might come and avenge you and you got your little tit for tat?" Ophelia pressed." I really didn't think you had it in you. I really held you to a higher standard - erroneously as it turns out."
"Is that what Jared's told you?" Morticia asked with as much calm as she could humanly exert herself.
"You'll tell me it's not the case?"
"No, it's certainly not the case," she retorted frostily.
"You've been whoring with that man for months," Ophelia said with a barely contained fury."You allowed us to believe you'd go ahead with the marriage to Francois and then married him in secret so you could get the money… have I got it correct so far?"
"I haven't married Gomez to get the money," she replied calmly."I married him because I love him."
"No, you've married him because you're exactly like our father," she hissed."Incapable of any sacrifices for anyone but yourself. You put your own desires above everyone else's. You've never cared, even for a minute, about the consequences of your actions or how they'll affect other people around you. You were willing to sacrifice the well being of your own mother for a few months of fun with that bloody Lothario and now what? What do you expect? Forgiveness?"
"The view must be magnificent from that high horse you're sitting on, Ophelia," she replied coldly."I have nothing to ask forgiveness for."
"You've agreed to this bloody marriage yourself and now you're crying a victim."
"I have agreed to help our mother," Morticia countered."I have never agreed to marry Francois - that was your idea or rather Jared's."
"Do you live in some bloody fairy tales Morticia?" Ophelia asked."Stop acting as if Jared was selling you off to the highest bidder, for fuck sake. Stop making this a bigger deal than it ever was."
"I wanted to live my life that was my own," she retorted firmly."And you wanted to strike two birds with one stone."
"You've lied to me," Ophelia retorted hurtfully."To all of us. Why the hell did you propose that treatment if you weren't willing to do what it takes?"
Morticia swallowed heavily and looked away briefly.
"I didn't want to lie to you," she assured. "Mother's health was always my priority. Every decision I have taken was with her well-being in mind."
"Are you having a laugh?" Ophelia replied incredulously."Do you really think that this farce of a marriage will last? Is there no limit to your naivety?"
"You know nothing about him -"
"I know more than enough about him to know that you will regret marrying him more than anything in your life," she said coldly."You want to cry a victim?" Ophelia continued menacingly."Be my guest but I will no longer fall for it. You've fooled me once. I wanted to make a home for you," she insisted."I tried my best and this," she waved carelessly in the direction of Morticia wedding ring."Is how you repay us."
"Is this Dorothy talking?" Morticia asked sardonically but her voice was hoarse, unable to conceal the hurt at her sister's words."What's next? You're going to tell me it's my fault? That I brought it upon myself?"
"You see? This is what everyone's told me," Ophelia said in an exasperated manner."You're so self-centred, so focused on yourself and your own desires that you can barely see farther than the tip of your own nose."
Morticia couldn't help but let a short, sardonic laugh.
"Now that's definitely Dorothy talking," she assessed.
"And she's right," Ophelia confirmed angrily."And I can finally see it."
"Do you now?" Morticia asked, getting progressively angry with those accusations."I'll tell you what you see. You see whatever fits into the story you want to convince yourself of, because you don't want to see the reality around you. You prefer to believe your husband because the other side of the story just doesn't fit the picturesque idea of the life you've created for yourself now does it?"
"I have no idea why I am wasting my time talking to you," her sister hissed.
"I didn't want it to come to this," Morticia tried to assure in a calmer manner but Ophelia wouldn't have any of it.
"Really?" Ophelia asked sardonically."Because it seems to me that every step you have taken since meeting that bloody man suggests quite the opposite. You've lied to me, I asked you and you blatantly lied."
"I didn't have a choice, you'd never -"
"No, Morticia," she interjected her sharply, shaking her head." There's always a choice and you chose to dishonour your family, you chose to make a fool of me and my husband despite everything we've done for you."
"Dishonour my family?" She repeated in disbelief."I suppose you reckon that in my eternal gratitude for your kindness I should just subdue and live my life as you see fit?"
"Live changes and we all have to adapt -"
"So you keep saying," she retorted sharply.
"And you still keep your head high in that utopian ideas father fed you with," she replied.
Morticia closed her eyes briefly, trying to gain some control of the situation but it was increasingly obvious that Ophelia was fed a very skewed picture of the whole situation and she grabbed on to it with all her might. Morticia suspected, with a sinking feeling, that there was indeed little she could say to change that, her sister's mind seemed made up.
"You used to love jumping into fountains, remember?" Morticia asked, desperately."When was the last time you did that?"
Ophelia didn't reply but the way her jaws stiffened indicated that she didn't appreciate the question.
"You used to be you," Morticia continued. "And you were unique and wonderful and he changed you to be like everyone else."
"Jared didn't change me," Ophelia replied tartly."I've made my own decisions."
"For him," Morticia pointed out."To please him."
"Shut up," she hissed."Stop acting like you know how I feel or if I'm happy or not. You don't know a damn thing. You have no right to judge my life, my decisions or my marriage. You don't get to decide how I live my life."
"No," Morticia agreed."No, I don't, but you don't have the right to make decisions in regards to mine."
"You're so stupid it's simply mind-boggling," she retorted."Don't you understand that it's just a matter of time before he cheats on you?"
"You're not in a position to lecture anyone on that subject," she replied sharply and instantly regretted her outburst. She watched her sister let out a derisive laugh.
"Is this how low you've fallen?" She asked sardonically but it was clear that she was beyond furious."You want to accuse my husband of infidelity? Really? You? With that damn Lothario for a husband? Surely, you're jesting."
Morticia had barely opened her mouth to reply when Ophelia interjected sharply:
"You're selfish and vindictive, there's reasoning with you, Morticia," she pressed."I swear to God, no wonder Jared lost his patience with you because only a saint could have put up with your constant insolence and your irrational stubbornness."
"If you really think so," she whispered hoarsely, surprised she managed to get the words out at all because her throat felt so constricted she could barely swallow."Then I don't think there's much else we can say to each other."
She held her sister's fierce gaze steadily even though the hot tears were already blurring her vision. It felt as if the world suddenly dissolved around her and she could feel nothing except anger, pain and regret that seemed to seep to the very core of her soul, even though she knew and expected it and yet it was harder than she could have ever anticipated. She was so angry and hurt she could barely breathe, those words - vicious and unfair hurt more than she could stand and her eyes burned with hot tears that refused to fall.
"Oh, but there is," her sister retorted slowly."You've made your decisions then live with them because from now on," she continued coldly."I don't want to see you or speak to you unless it's strictly necessary. Go on and live your life but neither me nor my son will ever again be a part of it and you have no one else to blame for this but yourself. What you did to my family...to my husband...your utter disregard for everyone and everything but yourself...I will never forgive you that. Go on and live your life with that bloody husband of yours but don't come crying to me when this whole thing falls apart because make no mistake...it will," she said and paused deliberately allowing her words to sink in."And you will deserve every bit of it."
Morticia was no stranger to pain. Indeed, it seemed to her as for the last five years she's been walking through the fire as her world crashed around her again and again and yet -
And yet, she's survived all that and here she was because, in the end, what were her options? Not survive?
She took a deep breath and exhaled tiredly as she grounded the heel of her boot into the black soil and leaned against the old sofa, staring at the tombstone before her. She didn't know why she chose to sit here, in front of this particular grave of her late father-in-law she never got a chance to meet. Fester's told her it was the greatest paradox that each one of them always ended up here, seeking consolation or answers at the grave of the man who'd never provided them with any, neither when he was alive nor now but for some reason, it felt comforting here.
She wondered again what her own father would think of all this? He's always told Morticia she had to live her life according to her values. It was the only way to live, everything else was an act in the drama of life but the key was to live one's life honestly and unapologetically, true to oneself. Well, she did just that then, didn't she? Despite the tremendous price she's had to pay.
It was a strange three weeks.
Three weeks since the confrontation with her sister and since then she's seen her only once, at the doctor's office to sign the final papers for her mother's treatment. Ophelia hasn't said a word to her and neither did she. If either of the doctors noticed anything, they didn't show any indication.
All in all, it didn't bode well and she had to slowly come to terms with the fact that things may never be well between them. That they both have made their choices and they will have to live with those choices. Separate.
Where they were once sisters, they will be now strangers. They won't be a part of each other's lives anymore.
How soon will Charlie forget about her? How soon will he stop asking?
She didn't want to think about that. It hurt so much to think about that, she simply didn't know what to do with all this pain inside her.
Yet, with her time consumed with the preparation to move to Lausanne, it was easy to put her mind away from it. Last three weeks allowed for little thinking and she was grateful for it.
She was immensely grateful for the support her family gave her, and for their knowledge when to leave her alone… but only for a while. Her new family didn't allow her to wallow in pain, they have repeatedly told her - Eudora and Fester but Gomez especially - that they were there for her, always. She was beyond grateful.
But this pain was her own. There was no way to share it, she couldn't share it, couldn't talk about it without falling apart and she didn't want to fall apart, she couldn't afford to fall apart and so she's decided to put that pain away, block it, put her focus away from this gnawing sadness. She didn't want the rest of her life being defined by this hurt...even though it did hurt. Tremendously.
Actions hurt.
Words hurt.
Longing hurt.
She knew this wasn't the end of it, that there will be more pain, more uncertainty and more chaos along the way but she was fine with that, at this moment she felt at peace, there was a silent, triumphant promise of the future.
"Do you mind some company?"
She turned and saw the three pairs of eyes watching her intently and couldn't help but smile.
This was her life now, she thought contentedly, as they all sat beside her - Mama and Gomez, and Fester perched on the armrest next to Eudora and smiled at her tenderly and Morticia smiled back at him gently.
She felt her mother-in-law place her hand over hers and close her fingers lightly around it, bringing a tender smile to Morticia's face as she reached to wrap her hand around her husband's.
This is the life she fought for - honest and true to who she was, with a man whom she loved more than she could ever be able to convey in any form, with a family that loved her and supported her more than she felt she deserved.
This was her home, so vastly different from what she could ever have expected in her life when she first arrived in this country almost five years ago. This was her life - so much more magical and wondrous than she could ever have imagined and, despite all the heartbreak, so infinitely better.
This new life, her home, her friends, her new family - they were her equilibrium.
Through all the sacrifices she's made to get where she was now, she's decided there was no better way to salute to all that by simply loving.
Loving madly and infinitely.
And living. Finally living.
Living, unapologetically and unrepentant.
And on her own terms.
A/N: Thank you for reading, hope you've enjoyed it. Comments are always welcomed! :)