A/N: Happy New Year, you guys!

Thank you for all your comments and support, I love it and appreciate all of them. x

We have just a couple of chapters left, I can't tell you exactly how many because I'm trying to keep them at a manageable word count for the sake of my sanity so my eyes won't bleed out while editing lol. Anyway, hope you'll enjoy another chapter of high drama. :)


Chapter 16

Gomez Addams did not doubt for a second that their shared ride to the charity ball was going to be one of the most awkward and uncomfortable moments of his entire existence but the actual experience was worse than anything his mind could come up with. Small mercies that his parents decided to ride in separate cars, and who could fault their decision, the atmosphere between them was already tense, he could hardly imagine all of them in one room for the whole evening, let alone sharing a car ride. His mother looked somewhere between heartbroken and disappointed, his father could barely look at him and hadn't said a single word to him and Ophelia… well, she was something else entirely. Poor Lurch, Gomez didn't envy him his job tonight, their faithful butler looked all but ready to disappear into himself - again, Gomez could not blame him, sitting next to Ophelia felt like sitting next to a ticking explosive device without knowing exactly how much time you have left, if any. Gomez's mind alternated between contemplating what the hell they were all doing and what other choice was there, but no matter from what angle he tried to look at their situation, it all seemed to him nothing less than burlesque. It was shaping up to be the most miserable evening - and not in a good way.

Were they really going to play a loving couple in front of all those people when their marriage was crumbling under their feet? All three of them occupying the same space, pretending to enjoy the party, hell - engaging in small talk, all smiles, discussing plans for Christmas and New Year parties? Was this pitiful spectacle really happening?

And yet, what was the alternative? If he and Morticia chose not to attend, gossip would spread in a matter of seconds - even if Morticia alone did not attend, it would look extremely disrespectful towards Ophelia, which would make matters even worse later once the news of their divorce hit the society matrons - gods, what field day would that be for them between their morning coffee and breakfast biscuits - can you imagine, not only having an affair with her sister's husband but didn't even have the decency to keep it a secret, pass the sugar, will you?

Because it seemed that that's what the primary problem was, not the deed itself, but how they went about it - not the infidelity, but were they discreet enough. After all, how many men led double lives of respectable gentlemen, wife and children at home, and a mistress on the side, all in perfect harmony? All was well because it was done silently, discreetly and often with the knowledge and unspoken consent of all parties involved but what he and Morticia wanted to do was an insult to an established decorum. He didn't want her as her mistress, he didn't want to live a double life. All he wanted was her - to love her, to be with her, for them to share their lives together freely and openly.

"How long has this been going on?" Ophelia asked suddenly, breaking the silence." Tell me."

Gomez could practically feel Lurch squirm in the driver's seat.

There was a measured, purposeful malice to her tone - calm and sharp, a far cry from her initial reaction when he first told her about the affair and he hardly knew what to make of it. Anger was easier to deal with, Ophelia's anger was usually clear and purposeful and easy enough to appease but this -

"Come on, tell me," she pressed, her tone taunting, almost encouraging."When did that little whore open her legs for you? How long has this been going on? A month? Longer? Oh, and what about your cousin, hmmm? What about Vlad? Does he know? Did you take turns?"

"Stop it," he said, a little more sharply than he intended.

Ophelia only grinned at him, clearly enjoying his discomfort.

"Why? A little too crude for your tastes?" She went on mockingly before continuing, "so? What was it? Did you take turns? Or maybe you shared?" She asked, tilting her head to the side in a contemplating manner." I'm sure she wouldn't say no if you two asked nicely enough, it's nothing new for her - "

"We're really not going to have this conversation," he told her firmly.

"Why not?" She gauded him."If you can fuck my sister, you can talk about it."

Gomez shook his head and closed his eyes, drawing in a tired breath before turning towards her.

"I know I've hurt you, I know it's all my fault and you have every right to be - " he paused, seeing the anger spark in her blue eyes again, so he forced a softer tone to his voice," it doesn't have to be like this. We don't have to be at each other's throats - "

"Oh, but we do, I indent to make your life so utterly miserable, next time you'll think twice about who you put your dick into,'' she interjected crudely, her lips curling into a mirthless smile."You know, come to think of it, history really does repeat itself, doesn't it? Isn't that the same thing you've done to your brother?"

He didn't reply, resisting the almost overwhelming urge to drop his gaze from hers, ignoring the sharp pain in his chest at the mention of Fester.

"That's why he left, didn't he?" She continued condescendingly." Because you've betrayed him. You fucked his fiancée. And now Vlad, I don't know about you but I see very…hmmm," she touched the tip of her finger to her pink-coated lips in a mockingly contemplating manner, "disturbing pattern."

"She's not his fiancée," he muttered stupidly and couldn't help but wince.

Ophelia only snorted ungainly.

"I don't think it will make much difference in his book," she replied smoothly and then tilted her head against the backseat and groaned in mock exasperation, "my God, how can you both be so fucking stupid, she's playing you all for fools and you just go to her like a moth to a fucking flame. Tell me, Gomez, are you really so pathetically stupid? Don't you realise, even for a second, that you're really not the first idiot she toyed with and you won't be the last? Why you want to ruin your life for a whore who seduced her sister's husband is beyond me - no really," she turned her head towards him, "tell me how the fuck do you imagine this is going to go because I'll tell you again - divorce is not an option."

Gomez couldn't help but let out a heavy breath, that was a good question, except he could ask the same.

"Why would you want to share your life with me?" He asked, exasperated. "I betrayed you, in the worst way imaginable. I fell in love with another woman, and no matter how much you might want to put all the blame solely on Morticia - it takes two, and I'm the one who's married."

"Fuck you both to hell - "

"You and I will make each other miserable," he continued, ignoring her sharp interjection," you know that as well as I do, why do you insist on staying married to me after what I've done?"

She sat up straight, directing her withering look at him.

"Because I'm not going to face the humiliation of my own husband leaving me for my sister, you stupid son-of-a-bitch," she hissed at him. "It's that simple, I would rather spend my miserable eternity with you than face it."

He swallowed heavily.

"Then leave me first," he proposed."Be the first to file for divorce, quote irrevocable differences, anything you want -"

"Fuck off," she seethed.

"Set up any conditions you want," he insisted, choosing to ignore her outburst." The new mansion? It's yours, do whatever you want with it. I will agree to any alimony you want… just…" he paused, biting his lips briefly, contemplating how to continue, what could he possibly say to resolve this in an even remotely amicable manner. "I don't want you to be miserable, I'm sorry - I know it doesn't mean anything, and there's no way I could ever atone for what I've done - no way I could ever make it right…," he swallowed heavily," but I truly am sorry."

"Do you want to make it right?" She asked, and without waiting for his reply said," then leave her. Forget that this affair ever happened."

He shook his head almost immediately.

"I can't do that," he whispered.

"Then don't tell me you're fucking sorry, because if you were even remotely apologetic you'd never want to leave me."

"I am sorry I hurt you," he told her, looking staring at her."But I don't regret her, and I can't just forget - "

"Oh, just shut the fuck up," she threw angrily. "I'm not going to divorce you. Ever," she promised."And I will make sure that little whore will suffer every burn of this affair, do you understand? She might as well fuck off all the way to the other side of the planet because if you leave me for her, I promise you, I swear to you, I will make her pay for this. If she thinks I made her life miserable before - trust me, she's seen nothing yet."

"You don't have to do this," he tried to placate."Making her pay will not fix this - it will not fix anything, and it will not make you happy - "

"Oh, quite the contrary," she retorted mockingly."Making her miserable has been the highlight of my existence for years, but obviously, she has not learnt her lesson."

She looked at him then, in a curious mixture of emotions he couldn't quite identify, her eyes seemed to sparkle and the corners of her lips twitched as if attempting to smile and for a moment, she looked like was debating telling him something amusing, but given their current situation, he really couldn't think of anything even remotely cheerful that could be on her mind.

"Do you want to hear something just uncannily funny?" She finally asked him."Something absolutely hilarious about this whole thing?"

He didn't reply, unsure if there was even anything he could say to that.

"Her mother died," she said dispassionately, looking straight into his eyes as she measured every word, and smiled when she heard him inhale audibly.

"What are you talking about?" He asked, furrowing his brows in confusion.

"Her mother," she echoed." Morticia's real mother died. She died giving birth to her."

For a second he felt as if something collided with his solar plexus, he simply forgot how to breathe.

"She doesn't know, of course," Ophelia continued, seemingly satisfied with his reaction." They kept it from her. They don't want her to know that her mother was nothing more than a little whore who had an affair with a married man. Unbearably cliché, isn't it? This whole thing," she mused indifferently, inspecting her painted nails."My my, an apple really doesn't fall far from the tree."

Good God, he wanted her to stop talking. He didn't want to hear any of this, it felt like such a violation of Morticia's privacy, of her right to know about this first, he could barely stand it. He didn't want to be privy to this secret but he was and he couldn't imagine keeping it a secret from her, he would have to tell her and he didn't feel it was his place to do so. He didn't even know how to tell her, how to tell her something of this magnitude?

"My father was married, just over two years, and with a child no less," Ophelia continued, smiling at him as she pointed candidly at herself." When he suddenly decided that married life was just too… boring and he found himself that little harlot - she died in childbirth. Unfortunately for everyone, the child survived."

He couldn't help the sharp intake of breath at her words.

"How can you say that?" He breathed out.

Any traces of her faux amusement were gone from her face, her whole body seemed to tense as she glared at him.

"Oh dear, I don't know, maybe because she's ruined everything," she told him sarcastically before continuing in a more fervent voice, "she ruined my parents' marriage, she ruined my family and now she wants to ruin my own marriage. This is who you're fucking, Gomez, a bastard child of some poor whore who turned out to be exactly like her mother. They're both cursed."

"I ruined this marriage," he told her pointedly. "Why are you so insistent on putting the whole blame on her?"

She let out an annoyed huff and shook her head in exasperation.

"She might have convinced you to think that, but it was all her, you're just too stupid to see her for what she is, she's going through men like wildfire and you all think you're special to her - you're not, but you? You're probably the biggest idiot of them all," Ophelia replied just as the car came to a halt and before their driver could do so, she opened the door, cutting off whatever Gomez was going to say next," come, darling, time to shake some money down from the trees. It's going to be a fun night."


One breath.

One breath.

One moment at a time.

She tried to tell herself that all she had to do was to get through the next few hours and she could deal with everything else later.

If she focused enough on that it was almost manageable.

Just a few hours. One moment at a time.

Morticia let out a ragged breath and pressed her back against the cold, brick wall of the hotel building, trying to collect herself, get herself together, rein this insanity to the point where she could force herself to join the other guests but it increasingly occurred to her that she simply had no strength left for this. She never felt so close to falling apart, she could barely keep the tears at bay.

This could not be happening to her. This wasn't happening and yet she could not get the woman in the photo out of her mind - the woman who looked so alarmingly like herself.

Her eyes were blue. You have your father's eyes.

How could he have known that?

Oh God, why did it have to happen? Why did he approach her? Why now of all times? As if her affair with Gomez wasn't brutal enough to deal with? As if there wasn't going to be enough heartbreak. How was she supposed to go inside and face all that when surviving another moment seemed like such a monumental task?

Her mother made it abundantly clear that she expected Morticia to show up, to make it clear that Ophelia had unwavering family support in her new charitable venture and, of course - and most importantly - there was her father's campaign. It was vital to show a united front.

United front… against her lies and betrayal.

Against their own lifetime of lies and betrayal.

She wished she had kept the photo, because part of her wanted to approach her father and demand the truth but the other part almost violently wanted to forget the man and his bizarre claims ever existed. To pretend it never happened. She had enough to deal with without this absurd story. This story, this lie or whatever this was.

Maybe it would be better if she didn't show up, what was the point? It was all going to hell in a basket case anyway and she really didn't have any strength to deal with anything. All she wanted to do was to stop thinking, stop feeling so vulnerable, she wanted a few hours to catch her breath, a few hours of oblivion.

Was it really happening to her? Did that man really exist, was this nightmare truly happening?

Impossible.

Every single thing he told her was impossible. Logically, it was the most improbable, most absurdly theatrical thing to happen to anyone.

How could she have spent twenty-two years of her life and not notice, not even for a second suspect that the woman she grew up to call mother was anything but? Was she that stupid? Was she that infinitely stupid not to notice? Ever? Was it possible that they all lied to her all those years? All of them? Even her grandmother? Did Ophelia know? Did all of them know, except for herself? Was she really so incredibly naive?

Was this why Ophelia was always so angry with her? Was this why her mother hated her? Did Morticia really spend all her life chasing after the love of a woman who was never her mother; who not only could have never loved her but hated her very existence, everything she was - a bastard child that her husband fathered with another woman?

How could she go inside and smile and join mindless, polite conversations, look her father in the eyes when her heart felt as if it were about to break? When she put so much effort into just surviving this moment and then the next. And the next.

"What such a lovely girl like you doing in such a dingy alleyway?"

The jovial voice startled her, and almost instinctively, she dabbed the corners of her eyes with her fingertips, trying to dry the tears.

"Hey, are you okay? Do you need help?" All the traces of amusement were gone from his voice as he approached her cautiously.

"No," she whispered hoarsely, clearing her throat," no, thank you, I'm fine. I just need a minute."

"I'm Itt Addams," he said, taking his round hat off and bowing down to her.

She was surprised by the amused, stranded half-laugh that escaped her lips at his ridiculous introduction as she turned towards her unexpected companion.

"I know," she said."We've met."

"Surely not, I'd remember you," Itt insisted, putting his hat back on his head before adding cheekily, "you're way too hot to forget."

She smiled again, drawing her cloak closer to herself, realising just how cold she was.

"We've met at your cousin's funeral," she reminded him."I'm sorry, I forgot his name - Bertrand or… ehm, Balthazar?"

God, that funeral, seemed like a lifetime ago and yet it was merely weeks. Weeks. Just weeks, and she managed to completely turn her life upside down.

"I was so pissed drunk at the time I could hardly remember my own name let alone his."

"I'm Morticia," she decided to reintroduce herself." Morticia Frump."

"Oh…yeah…I think I remember - Ophelia's sister, right?" Itt nodded in vague recognition."Doll, what are you doing outside in sub-zero temperatures in this flimsy outfit."

"That's a good question" she breathed out, watching her breath vaporise in the cold air." I'm not sure I have the answer."

"If you ask me, you look like you need a drink," Itt decided immediately, trying to sound upbeat. "And I'm not talking about tea. Come, let me buy you a drink. I could use one myself."

"Actually, I think that's the last thing I need," she replied."But thank you for the offer."

Itt shifted awkwardly as if unsure what to do with himself and Morticia smiled gently, deciding to take pity on him, "I'm fine, really. I appreciate your concern, but I'm perfectly fine."

"I don't know what's your definition of fine but you look like the exact opposite of fine."

She didn't reply, letting out a gentle shrug, unsure what else was there to say.

"Look, whatever it is, I'm sure it can't be as bad as you think it is…"

Morticia looked at him, arching her eyebrow.

"I always thought that was a very obnoxious thing to say to someone," she retorted flatly.

"Sorry," Itt retorted, sounding slightly annoyed. "I was just trying to make you feel better."

"Thank you," she replied curtly.

She really didn't mean to be rude, and to Itt least of all, but she simply wasn't up for company at this point. She didn't want to talk, she barely wanted to think. She was tempted to simply find Gomez and ask him to leave. Leave. Run away. She didn't care what they'd call it as long as it happened immediately and took them far away from everything and everyone here.

"Okay… I guess I'll see you… inside, at some point, if you don't turn into an icicle by then… although, it would certainly suit your current attitude."

Morticia didn't reply and it seemed that Itt's eagerness was also depleted because he simply shrugged and turned away from her without another word.

Morticia briefly wondered how stupid of an idea it would be if she were to walk home because it was clear to her that she had no emotional capacity to attend this event. She felt too tired to walk, but the cold air might be just what she needed to clear her mind -

"Look doll, let me buy you a drink -"

Persistence against all odds was apparently a genetic trait among Addams male specimens.

"Thank you, but I'd prefer to be alone," she replied, forcing a softer tone to her voice. "Enjoy the party."

To her disappointment, Itt not only did not make his way towards the hotel entrance but slowly started to walk back towards her.

"Right… okay… how about a walk, you need someone to talk to? I can lend an ear, no comment, no advice, no judgement," he offered.

She couldn't help but let out a light chuckle.

"Are all the Addams men so persistent?" She asked, offering him a lukewarm smile.

"Yes, but I'm the most charming of them all, "he deadpanned. "Come on, let me buy you a drink, my hair is getting covered in frost as we speak and I don't want split ends."


They ended up at the hotel bar, just a stone-throw away from the ballroom where the charity ball was taking place. They chose a secluded corner and Itt ordered two glasses of white wine. She hadn't touched hers, she had enough common sense left in her to know that any amount of alcohol was simply not a good idea, considering that she barely had anything to eat today.

"So? What's bothering you?"

"Nothing that I didn't bring upon myself," she replied dully.

"Well, you're speaking to a resident expert on making stupid life choices," he deadpanned, "I assure you, whatever it is, you couldn't hold a candle to me and my dumb decisions. "

Oh, what the hell, if he insisted.

"I'm having an affair," she said curtly but Itt didn't look particularly concerned and only shrugged at the revelation.

"Been there, done that, got a t-shirt," he replied, reaching for his glass.

"With my sister's husband," she added smoothly.

That did it.

His hand stopped in the mid-movement as he slowly realised exactly what she was telling him before drowning the whole glass of wine in one go.

It still took him another minute to connect all the dots.

"Wait… with you sister's … wait," he paused again."But that's … wait… so you and … ohhh… oh, shit…."

"And on top of all that - " she paused as Itt started coughing, and for a moment Morticia thought her companion was two steps away from choking, so she delivered a few hearty pats on his back just to be sure he wouldn't.

"There's more?" He coughed out the question, lifting his glowed hand to let her know she could stop patting.

"Oh, there's more, " she nodded, "I just found out that my mother… is not really my mother," she went on sardonically, even though she was sure if she really focused on her words, they would choke her, so she continued in an almost clinical manner," it appears that my father chose to have an illicit affair of which I am the unfortunate byproduct. It also appears that my father chose - or was forced to - take the responsibility for his little indiscretion and his wife - who until today I called my mother - was obviously not impressed, which is understandable. Nobody wants her husband's bastard child running around the house, calling you their mother - how insulting that must have been for her, I can't even imagine and yet, I can't help but feel ever so slightly betrayed by the fact that everyone lied to me all that time but also, considering the fact that I'm ruining my sister's - sorry, my half-sister's marriage, I don't feel like I even have the right to feel that way, in fact, the more I think about it the more I can't help but feel like I actually deserve it because it seems that, one way or another, all I have ever done was ruining people's lives, so anyway," she smiled at him, a completely lifeless smile," don't you just wish you went straight to the ball instead of asking me how I was?"

Itt didn't reply, and she didn't expect him to, she could barely wrap her head around all that herself.

"Doll, if this is your average week," he finally said, looking at her somewhere between curiosity and awe, "what do you do on New Year's Eve?"


Ophelia Addams was never particularly successful at hiding her anger but she was thoroughly convinced she would be able to put up with it for at least a couple of hours of this blasted charity ball, but alas, with each passing minute she felt the anger in her bubbling dangerously close to the surface and her son-of-a-bitch of a husband was not helping to tame it.

She just couldn't stand how fucking stupid he was, how he allowed himself to be fooled by that little wench to the point where there seemed to be nothing Ophelia could do to change his mind - no threats were getting through to his thick skull, but he was insane is he thought, even for a second, for his damned relationship with Morticia would see the light of day. No one would find out about it, least of all Laeticia Hornby. It was out of the question.

Ugh, speaking of the devil -

"Ophelia, my darling, everything looks just superb, although I must admit, I feel like I hardly know most of the people - not our usual crowd, is it? And dear me, what's with all the press - your dear Papa's doing, no doubt, how generous of him to support you like that," Laeticia Hornby greeted loudly in a cheerful tone, sashaying her way towards Ophelia and Gomez but before Ophelia managed to offer any reply, the older woman turned towards Gomez, batting her eyelashes and offering him a coy smile," Gomez Addams, devilishly handsome as ever."

"Mrs Horby," Gomez smiled, taking her extended hand to place a fleeting kiss on her knuckles." Well, my wife had a brilliant idea of extending the invitation to the wider business circle of the city, it never hurts to make some new business acquaintances - a little mixing of business and pleasure can't be bad and it will certainly aid the charitable cause. May I say, though, that you look absolutely radiant tonight, I always said blue was your colour," he complimented and flashed her another charming smile before turning to the older man next to her, pointing his finger at him," that was some deal you pulled with the Campbells, old man, colour me impressed."

Bertrand Holby tilted his head and laughed, accepting the praise.

"Some deal indeed, and I want you on it - I'm not taking a no for an answer, Gomez, you know me!"

"Boys, boys," Laeticia reprimanded half-heartedly with her saccharine sweet voice."Please, no business talks tonight, we're here for a charitable cause."

"Indeed, my dear," her husband concurred."My congratulations to both of you, ladies, I don't know how you've managed to organise it all in such a short time but then I should never doubt my wife's ability to perform miracles - why, that number of times she suffered my last-minute business soirées, she's at expert now!"

Ophelia restrained herself from glaring at the older woman. The old bitch didn't lift a finger to help her but apparently, it didn't prevent her from taking the credit - something Morticia apparently predicted because she included a very heartwarming thanks to Laeticia Hornby in the speech Ophelia told her to write. Stupid bitches flock together, no doubt.

"Oh, don't remind me, you devil," Laeticia laughed."By all means, it all looks wonderful, let's hope everyone feels generous tonight."

Oh, fuck off, you old bitch.

"Oh, I'm sure they are," Ophelia offered them a charming smile, linking her arms through Gomez's." I hope you will have as much fun tonight as I - sorry, as we had, organising it. I couldn't thank you enough for all your help, Mrs Hornby."

The old bitch had the audacity to smile and wave off the compliment.

"Oh, not at all, you know me, I love to help," she smiled, winking at Gomez. "Well, I guess we'll see you two love birds around - oh, is your sister not going to be here tonight? I see so many of the Addams family members came to support you, I know Morticia's usually not very keen on such events but I thought she would surely be here to - "

"She will be here," Ophelia interjected promptly."She's just running a bit late."

"Indeed, well, let's hope she gets here in time for the auction," Leaticia smiled knowingly, turning towards Gomez again, extending her hand to him again."It was lovely to see you, Gomez."

"Likewise," he accepted her hand and dutifully placed a brief kiss on the back of it before cradling her palm in both of his hands, smiling at her charmingly," both of you have worked tremendously hard on this event, but don't forget to enjoy yourself - you've certainly deserved it and by the way, Bertrand," he turned towards the older man."I'm certainly stealing your lovely wife for a dance or two later on."

"Oh Gomez, you know me so well," Leaticia cooed."I just love to dance."

"Well, I am certainly no competition to young Addams in that regard," Bertrand laughed, slapping Gomez on the arm."By all means, you're allowed to steal her… as long as you're planning on returning her later."

"I can't promise anything," Gomez grinned, placing the last kiss on Laeticia's knuckles, giving her a small wink, eliciting a soft chuckle from the older woman.

Ophelia couldn't help but roll her eyes at the pathetic display, did that old bitch seriously think that she still turned heads? At her age? With that fat ass?

"Bloody hell, you should be an actor," Ophelia muttered condescendingly as they watched the older couple join other guests. "What a devoted husband you are, too bad you forget the role the moment some skinny bitch spreads her legs for you -"

"Is this really the best moment?" He retorted, getting progressively irked, despite himself. "Do you really want to have this conversation now?"

"You're right, darling, there will be plenty of time to bite at each other's throats later," she replied before continuing in a biting tone, "speaking of, any idea where your mistress might be? Because if I need to go and drag her by the hair to attend this ball, I will."

Gomez bit his lips but chose not to react to the dig but Morticia's absence was starting to worry him. He knew she was adamant to attend this spectacle, unwilling to cause any more drama that was already on its way, even though he could see the stress getting to her, so the fact that she was still not here started to worry him.

Maybe the cowardly way was the better way, after all, they should have just got away from here and dealt with the consequences at a safe distance, instead of subjecting everyone to this tragicomedy.

"I'm sure she'll be here," he retorted curtly, fixing her with a pointed gaze, concern for Morticia getting the better of him." Why would she miss such fun?"


Patricia Frump sighed heavily as she watched, albeit discreetly, the couple mingling dutifully among the guests, and even from the distance she was able to tell that Gomez and Ophelia were at each other's throats, the atmosphere between them was so thick and heavy she was sure she would be able to hang an axe between them, and there was no doubt in her mind what was behind this particular marital spat.

Or perhaps it was something else, she should not assume, she should not allow herself to get paranoid. A young, married couple could be at each other 's throats for a number of reasons, especially when it came to Ophelia - anything could have caused her tantrum. Oh, who the hell was she trying to fool? In the situation where one's husband was having an affair with one's sister, it was really hard to think of any other reason why Ophelia looked so obviously… well… pissed, for the lack of a better description.

Did Ophelia find out on her own? Or did they really tell her? Where was Morticia?

"Any idea why Morticia is still not here?" The annoyed voice of her daughter-in-law interjected her thoughts.

"Your guess is as good as mine, Laura," Patricia replied smoothly, taking a dainty sip of her champagne but silently wondering the same.

It was clear that what discussion she had with her granddaughter, she did not manage to change her mind about that bloody affair, not one bit. Patricia really hoped against hope to avoid the full-blown disaster that was now only a matter of time, and that time was rapidly running out.

"Ophelia looks like she wants to set the world on fire, does Morticia really need to get on her nerves?" Laura asked, barely glancing at her daughter, unwilling to draw anyone's attention to the couple." Tonight of all nights?"

"What makes you think that whatever is going on there has anything to do with Morticia?" Patricia retorted smoothly, they played this game all their lives after all, but she would be damned if she revealed even a speck of what was truly going on here.

She refused to think that all was lost, even if Ophelia already knew about the affair, she doubted she'd go down without a fight. They'd have to keep it under wraps as long as humanly possible until those two came to their senses. There had to be a way to convince Morticia to give up on Gomez, on this whole demented idea. She knew her, she knew Morticia better than that, she knew, she knew that she would come to her senses if she were only given enough time to see the reason, to realize that what she wanted was impossible. That whatever she thought she was feeling, wasn't love at all. She was too young to see the difference between love and passion, and the latter was such an ephemeral, such treacherous thing to hold on to.

"Everything is always about Morticia," her daughter-in-law replied dully."Always has been."

Patricia huffed impatiently.

"Your timing to discuss such things is, as always, impeccable," she remarked icily.

"We've been going Scarlet O'Hara about it long enough."

Oh for the love of God, they were going through the same conversation roughly once a year, usually somewhere between Christmas and New Year - the only time when her daughter-in-law took liberties with the amount of alcohol she was consuming and nothing brought up past hurts and loosen up the tongue like one too many drinks.

"Perhaps it would be prudent to go easy on the colourful drinks, my dear," Patricia remarked pointedly, glancing at the flute of pink, bubbly drink in Laura's hand, "those little darlings can be really treacherous."

"Is attending this ball too much of an effort for that girl?" The younger woman asked instead, her tone openly contemptuous. "Does she always have to draw attention to herself in the worst of ways?"

"She'll be here."

Laura only rolled her eyes at the defensive tone in Patricia's voice.

"Well, she better be, because I want the whole happy family photo in tomorrow's newspaper," she said icily."And you all better be smiling."


"Are you sure you're not going to join me in grand festivities?"

"I'm sure, thank you for the drink," Morticia nodded."I think I'd rather go home."

"You didn't even touch that drink," Itt pointed out.

"It's better I didn't," she managed a small smile.

"Well then, I guess this is it, doll, but remember, in every swordfight - when in doubt - aim for the major artery," he advised sagely.

Morticia narrowed her eyes and bit her lips into a thin smile, nodding slowly at his words.

"Right… well, I shall keep that in mind," she replied."Have fun at the ball."

She smiled when he saluted her, she shook her head gently at his antics and was about to turn towards the direction of the cloakroom when an excited voice reached her.

"There you are!"

Morticia felt her body immediately tense and closed her eyes, exhaling in defeat.

Well.

Well… fuck.

"Vlad," she greeted quietly.

She really didn't expect him to be here tonight, not after she made it clear to him that she had no intention of continuing their relationship. Of course, there was a tiny, slim chance that he was here simply to support Ophelia's charity ball but… somehow she doubted that this was the case.

"You know this idiot?" Itt asked, nodding at his cousin.

"Hey, watch it," Vlad pointed at him as he approached the pair. "Don't forget who bails you out of jail - every, single, time."

Itt turned towards Morticia.

"Have you met my charming cousin, Vlad?"

"Not only met, but she also managed to steal my heart," Vlad announced, putting his arm around Morticia's shoulder.

"It's a long story," Morticia explained drily in answer to Itt's mute question. "A really, really long story."

"Doll, you really need to tell me more about yourself someday," he told her.

"Hey, keep your grimy paws to yourself, this lady is already taken," Vlad rebuked his cousin lightly, before turning towards Morticia, "You look stunning by the way," he complimented, kissing her cheek lightly and Morticia was just too depleted of energy at this point to even react."Your father was looking for you, we almost thought you weren't coming - the local press is everywhere, I swear they practically shove the photo camera in your father's face, his campaign manager really went out of his way to find the biggest twats in the press industry."

Itt shook his head and motioned for Morticia to come closer, she bent at her waist low enough so that he could whisper in her ear.

"Bet you regret not having that drink now, don't you?"


"I can only assume you had similar luck talking to your granddaughter as I had with my son."

Patricia Frump allowed her lips to curl into a tiny smirk as she glanced at Eudora Addams, dressed in a sparkly, forest green flowy dress that was as outside of the current fashion trends as Patricia's royal blue floral suit. Patricia had a brief thought that never in the history of social disasters, a double failure in familial negotiations looked so stylish.

"You assume correctly," Patricia muttered.

"On a bright note, Ophelia has really outdone herself," Eudora remarked looking around the ballroom.

Red-clothed, round tables decorated with candles and festive evergreen branches were not exactly her taste for Christmas decorations but she could appreciate the aesthetics of it.

"I asked, I pleaded and begged," Patricia went on in a subdued whisper.

"And?"

"I might as well have talked to the wall," she muttered into her drink."She's absolutely lost her mind for him. There's no reasoning with her, not at this moment, at least."

"Well, I had a similar approach with almost the exact same results," Eudora sighed tiredly."Do they really hate each other so much? Would she really go after her own sister's husband to spite her?"

"No," Patricia replied categorically."Whatever she feels for him, she believes it's real."

"And what do you think?"

"Does it matter? This can't continue."

Eudora took a deep breath, looking briefly away.

"I can't think of anything more I can say or do," Eudora whispered somberly. "All I see is an unshakable conviction that he thinks he's in love with her and he's willing to risk everything to be with her. Even at the cost of hurting everyone else in the process."

Patricia supposed she should appreciate the honesty but, she had to admit, it was more than disheartening to hear such defeat in Eudora's tone. She had hoped that at least together they'd manage to devise some solution but it seemed that it was not to be the case.

"Ophelia is absolutely devastated," Eudora continued quietly, looking intently into her drink." Harald is so furious, he can barely look at Gomez and I feel so…angry, so ashamed and guilty, I -."

"You?" Patricia couldn't help but let out a mirthless chuckle."You have nothing to blame yourself for."

Eudora shrugged helplessly.

"We both insisted on this marriage, Harald and I," she explained."I wanted him to be happy, I thought this is what he needed - some focus, clarity and stability but maybe it was wrong to push him - "

"My darling, don't try to excuse his behaviour -"

"That's not that," Eudora looked at her sadly, shaking her head."I know my son… I know him, and I pushed him into something I should have realized was never going to work."

"And why not?"

"They're too similar," she replied, looking at her companion pointedly. "He and Ophelia… they do not complement each other," she admitted forlornly." But it doesn't really matter now. What matters is for us to find a way to fix it," she remarked firmly."Any ideas?"

"I guess cutting him off his inheritance wouldn't do any good?" Patricia supplied half-heartedly.

Eudora shook her head, confirming her suspicion.

"Gomez doesn't need his inheritance," Eudora replied."He has enough personal wealth to see him through many winters and, besides, it wouldn't matter to him anyway."

"I will speak to Morticia again," Patricia announced, unsure what else was there to do.

The only option was to persist until at least one of them saw reason and ended that blasted affair.

"No," Eudora shook her head."Let me speak to her."


"Honey, don't take it the wrong way, but can you chill the fuck up?"

Ophelia couldn't help but tense when Holly practically hissed the words into her ear, pushing a glass of wine into her hand.

"You will start scaring people if you don't let go of that glare. What's going on?"

"Nothing I can't take care of myself, thanks for your concern," Ophelia replied curtly, barely sparing her friend one look, focusing her attention on Gomez.

The stupid bastard hasn't stopped looking at Morticia from the moment she entered the ballroom in the company of both of Gomez's idiot cousins. Apparently, she was planning to go through every male Addams that crossed her way like wildfire. God, she wished she could just snap that pale neck in half and get it done with.

"Hey," Holly gently grabbed her arm. "Ladies' room, now."

Ophelia let out an annoyed huff but allowed herself to be led into the ladies' room where Holly performed a quick check to make sure they were alone.

"What's going on?" She whispered, looking at Ophelia pointedly."Why are you acting this way?"

"I told you," Ophelia leaned against the ornamented sink, before pouring the content of her glass into the sink, setting the glass on a marble counter and crossing her arms against her middle in a defensive manner.

"I know what you told me," Holly interjected."What didn't you tell me? I know this look, honey, who stepped on your toes?"

"I don't want to talk about it, Hol," Ophelia retorted angrily. "I have this fucking charity ball to get through. It's enough to piss me off until the next year."

"Well, let me tell you something," Holly stopped her." It all looks fabulous and the guests are obscenely wealthy, so you're on a good track to make the night a success but right now you're looking like an axe murderer so whatever it is, get yourself together before you get out there."

Ophelia set her jaw angrily.

"Gomez is having an affair."

Holly blinked, then took a step back, completely taken aback by Ophelia's confession.

"The fuck… are you serious?"

"Dead serious."

"How do you know?" Holly asked and Ophelia couldn't help but exhale impatiently.

"He told me."

Her friend frowned at her in disbelief.

"I'm sorry… what?" She asked, bewildered. "What do you mean he told you?"

"He told me he's having an affair," she repeated in an angry whisper." Yes, that's right, my perfect husband told me he's having an affair and he wants a divorce, how is that for an aperitif?"

She watched Holly's jaw set angrily as she shook her head in an exasperated manner.

"Fuck… god damn - this...this is exactly why I told you to stop nagging him," she told her, pointing her finger at Ophelia, her tone openly accusatory.

Ophelia could feel the heat hit her cheeks.

"What the fuck, Hol? You're not seriously telling me this is my fault - "

"No, but you hardly gave the man a fucking break, you were constantly on his back - "

"Oh, give me a fucking break - "

"You've been married for less than six months, and all he got from you were demands," Holly continued in an accusatory whisper. "I told you to take it easy, I fucking told you to make a fucking child with him before you start nagging the hell out of him but you knew fucking better. Of course he turned into the first willing whore who spread her legs for him - "

Ophelia could feel her eye well up with angry tears.

"Fuck off, Hol," she retorted fervently, pressing her hands into the marble counter because she was sure she was two steps away from hitting her. The fucking audacity of some people. "I'm so sick of this know-it-all attitude, this is why I never told you anything. I can't fucking stand you acting like you're some bloody marital expert - "

"Pardon me for trying to be of help -"

"I don't need help."

"Looks like you do because it's not my husband who's trying to leave me -"

Ophelia could feel her whole body freeze in outrage. She was so angry her lips started to quiver, and she had to press her fingers into her forearms to prevent them from shaking.

"I'm sorry," Holly said promptly, closing her eyes and pressed the palm of her hand to her forehead."I'm sorry, that was fucking low - "

"I don't need this right now, "Ophelia said in a low whisper, her voice shaky. "You're my friend, you should support me no matter what, don't - don't give me this shit."

Holly looked away, in anger or shame, Ophelia couldn't tell but then turned towards her again, her eyes were burning as she took a step closer and closed her hands around Ophelia's bare shoulders.

"You can't allow him to leave you like this," she whispered insistently. "This is a fucking disaster, can you even imagine…," Holly paused and shook her head."You can't let him do that to you, Ophelia."

"Tell me something I don't know," Ophelia retorted sarcastically.

"Do you know who's he seeing?"

Ophelia nodded but the words just locked in her throat. It was too humiliating to say them out loud.

"Then we start there," Holly asserted." Who is she?" She asked, her tone much softer now. "Tell me who's the bitch?"


She wished she had brought a shawl or a wrap or at least chosen the dress with sleeves but as it was, the black, backless silk dress did not offer much protection against the environmental factors. Granted, the dress was stunning, and a gift from her grandmother - vintage, something she wore in her youth and Morticia was really looking forward to wearing it - before all hell broke loose that was, now the dress was the last thing on her mind, except for the fact that she felt cold and wished she wore something else instead.

"This is a beautiful dress."

She blinked, slightly disorientated and realized that Vlad was talking to her.

"Pardon?"

"The dress," Vlad nodded, smiling at her. "Is stunning. You look breathtaking"

"Oh, yes, thank you," she replied, somewhat absently.

"Can I get you a drink?"

"Sure."

She heard him chuckle. Did she say something amusing? What did he ask again? She turned towards him with a confused expression.

"I asked what would you like to drink," he said, placing his hand on the small of her back."Are you feeling okay? You don't seem yourself tonight."

"I'm fine," she replied."I just don't particularly enjoy large parties. Water."

"Water?" He asked, utterly taken aback.

"Water," she echoed." I'd like some water, please."

"Right," he nodded, still thoughtfully confused. "Let me go to the bar and get you a glass… of water."

She forced a small smile on her face.

"Thank you."

She watched him go and exhaled in relief, gods she didn't want to be here. She caught Gomez's concerned gaze on her and shook her head, immediately turning away from him, even though every fibre of her being wanted nothing more than to feel his arms around her, to get lost in him, for the whole world to disappear if only for those few seconds of respite of being with him. Alas, this was not a time nor a place where he could offer her such comfort. And she didn't want him to worry about her any more than he already did but gods, she wished desperately they could leave.

"That is quite the feast of snobbery, don't you think?" James Frump approached her, immediately placing a soft kiss on her cheek. "You look beautiful."

Morticia turned towards him and it took all of her strength to shackle the quiet sob that was threatening to escape. It took one look at her father for her chest to constrict in such misery she was barely able to contain it and everything, every word the man at the gallery said to her came rushing through her with new force.

"Are you feeling alright, poppet?" Her father asked, worry attached to his face.

Why? Why did you lie? Why did you have to lie?

"Yes," she managed to breathe out.

"Good Lord, sit down before you collapse, you look paper white," he admonished, practically forcing her to sit down at the nearest table.

"I'm fine," she tried to assure but the moment the words left her lips, she heard him snort.

"Like hell you are, sit down and eat something, you look transparent."

"I don't want to eat," Morticia whispered but took a seat at the richly decorated table.

Was it possible? Was it possible that all those years he looked at her with such a fatherly love and devotion all the while there were lies festering in the background? Why? Why did he lie? Why did they all lie?

Would he lie to her now? If she asked him about the woman in the photograph?

"You shouldn't have forced yourself to attend if you're not feeling well, it's not very sensible of you."

She felt his warm hands wrap around hers but she could barely look at him, it was suddenly too much, her hands felt clammy, and her heart was beating so hard it seemed to drown everything else. Did he really lie to her? All those years? Did he really love her, or was it all guilt, was it all a lie?

She didn't want to know. She wanted to get out of here.

"Papa - "

"My eyes!"

It felt to her as if someone had burst the bubble and all their attention immediately shifted towards the sound of a wailing cry.

"I cannot see!" The man who, judging by his outfit was transported here from mid-nineteenth century Italy, was clutching his chest as if he was having a cardiac arrest and was making his way towards Patricia Frump who was in the midst of the conversation with Eudora Addams."I cannot see! I'm blinded!"

"What… in the world?" Patricia whispered and at that very moment, the stranger grabbed her hand and placed a loud kiss on it.

"I'm blinded!" The man echoed, bowing down to her."I'm blinded by your radiant beauty."

Almost instinctively, Morticia rose from her chair and made her way towards Patricia and Eudora, despite an almost overwhelming need to go in the opposite direction because she could make a quick, educated guess as to what had been the subject of their conversation. Nevertheless, she wasn't about to leave her grandmother in the hand of some overzealous madman.

"Sir, I don't believe we've met -, " Patricia retorted in a mild outrage, trying to retract her hand from his grasp but to no avail.

She turned towards Eudora with a questioning look but the younger woman simply rolled her eyes, shaking her head in a good-natured exasperation which at least told her she wasn't in any significant danger.

"Patricia, allow me to introduce my -" Eudora started to intrude but was interrupted by a huge sigh of pleasure.

"Knick Knack," the man interjected passionately in between the kisses."Knick Knack Addams, at your service."

Of course, he was an Addams, Morticia thought as they approached the group. If this man wasn't closely related to a certain mad Castilian, she didn't know who was.

"Uncle, slow down," Vlad interjected, materialising next to Eudora with a glass of water in his hand. "You're frightening the lady."

"Vladimir, my boy, I'm thoroughly in love with this enchanting creature and I'm taking her with me - "

"Like hell you are - " Patricia remarked, still earnestly trying to extract herself from the man's affections.

"You can't -" Vlad tried to reason, pushing the glass into Eudora's hand as he tried to gently pry his uncle from Patricia.

"Are you being inhospitable, boy?" Knick Knack thundered, shoving him away, looking almost ready to challenge Vlad to a duel.

Vlad exhaled heavily.

"No uncle, but this is Ophelia's grandmother, you can't just - "

"Even better!" He exclaimed, turning towards Patricia." I am, thoroughly in love with you, my queen, I'm your devoted slave - "

Patricia sighed and rolled her eyes to the high heavens.

"Oh, good Lord - "

"I shall devote my life to your service and your happiness alone," Knick Knack went on passionately.

"Which century is this again?" Patricia asked no one in particular. "Sir, I think you've made enough of a spectacle - "

"What on earth is going on here?" James Frump asked, finally finding his voice, yet still quite unable to get his head around the situation." Sir, release my mother at once!"

"I'm proposing marriage at this very moment!" Knick Knack exclaimed, utterly ignoring everyone around him except Patricia.

"The hell you are," Patricia grunted, finally snatching her hand away from his fervent grasp."It takes much more than pretty words to put a ring on that finger, mister."

The man was now on his knees before her before she managed to utter another word.

"Anything, cara mia," he bellowed fervently." Tell me what you wish for and it's yours."

"Mr Addams, I think that's quite enough," Morticia interjected gently but firmly still."You're not marrying anyone tonight."

The man turned towards her and his eyes glistened feverishly.

"And who might this mesmerizing, half-dead-looking creature be?" He asked Patricia."Your sister, no doubt! Mademoiselle, I ask you for your blessing for I'm about to marry your beautiful sister!"

"Get up on your feet, you madman," Patricia grunted."She's not my sister, she's my granddaughter, you lunatic."

"I drink those words of affection from your lips like the finest wine and arsenic," Knick Knack continued and then suddenly jumped on his feet, taking both Patricia and Morticia by their hands, placing a kiss on each. "The auction is about to begin, tell me, my angles, what your eyes behold and it's yours. Anything!"

Morticia gently pried his fingers from her hand and was about to attempt to reason with the man again, but Patricia seemed to pause and consider his words.

"Anything?" She asked, rising her thin eyebrow curiously.

James Frump let out a pained gasp.

"Mother, for the love of - "

Knick Knack nodded enthusiastically.

"Anything your heart desires, my queen!"

"Well, Knick - you don't mind if I call you Knick, do you - now, that you've mentioned it," the older lady said, linking her arm through his, leading him towards the centre stage where the auction was going to be conducted." I have noticed an absolutely delightful escritoire that would fit just perfectly in my bedroom - "

The sharp intake of breath that followed was enough for Morticia to hazard a guess about what was about to happen.

"Escritoire… that's french!"


When one was an Addams one was used to any and all absurdities life entailed, indeed as an Addams, one welcomed the absurdities with an open heart but watching Uncle Knick Knack bid thousands of dollars on a fountain pen Patricia Frump only fleetingly complemented as 'quite lovely' was something else entirely. His uncle was so smitten with the Frump matriarch that he seemed to have completely forgotten that he personally donated the very fountain pen he was now so fervently bidding on.

It would be hilarious if their circumstances were so depressingly sombre.

Gomez couldn't help the anxious worry that settled in his stomach the moment he saw Morticia. At any other time, he would probably focus on how absolutely stunning she looked in that black silky, backless dress and her long, curled raven tresses that just begged to be touched but unfortunately all he could see was the utterly miserable look in her eyes. It took him one second to assess that she wanted to be anywhere but here, and he longed to do nothing more than to grant her that wish.

Gods, a few more hours and this whole farce would hopefully end. Even though they would hardly be any respite, he knew he would have to tell her what he's learnt about her mother and he really didn't look forward to that but he couldn't imagine keeping it a secret from her any longer than it was necessary.

He saw, with a corner of his eye, Gerald wave at him from across the room, and Gomez nodded at him, shifting tensely, his eyes still on Morticia. She sat between her father (who was glaring daggers at Uncle Knick Knack) and Cousin Itt; he could tell she was not paying any attention to the auction. Even Uncle Knick Knack's absurd shenanigans barely grasped her focus. No, it was more than that, she looked ill and his stomach twisted with worry at the realisation. He watched Itt lean towards her and whispered something to Morticia and she nodd in reply, and then a few seconds later rose from her seat and made her way out of the room.

He caught her gaze briefly and swallowed heavily, she didn't look pale, she looked insipid, her eyes glassy with tears and it was enough for him to decide to end this evening early.

He was taking her away from here, he could not bear to see her so miserable, no matter their circumstances. This was simply not the way.

He was about to follow her when his cousin's voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Those Frump women, eh?" He remarked casually."Uncle Knick Knack is a goner but, chap, what did you do to step on your wife's toes?" Vlad inquired, nodding to Ophelia who was sitting near the small podium, where Leaticia Hornby, as the president of the Widows and Orphans, was leading the charity auction. Ophelia was sitting next to Vanessa and… well whoever the new guy was, but was quite openly glaring at Gomez from across the room. "She's looking at you like she's about to rip you a new one. Rough patch?"

"You could say that," Gomez retorted, exhaling in relief as he watched Cousin Itt make his way after Morticia and he felt a sudden wave of gratitude. He really didn't want her alone. "We're splitting up."

Vlad turned towards him sharply.

"What?"

"You've heard me," Gomez met his gaze, swallowing heavily.

This was lousy timing, he knew, it was probably the worst moment, the worst place to tell his cousin but he found the thought of prolonging the inevitable exhausting. Maybe it was better to get it all out in the open and deal with anything that comes after.

"You must be fucking kidding me," Vlad remarked, in calm disbelief.

"No, I'm not kidding at all," he shook his head.

Vlad grabbed his arm and slowly led him outside the room, mindful of the fact that not everyone was paying attention to the auction.

"Surely, you're not leaving her for that psycho chic who demolished your office - " he hissed, flabbergasted at the very idea. "Chap, she's not that hot to risk your father writing you out of his will."

"No, it's not her."

Vlad exhaled loudly, tilting his head back.

"Thank the fuck," he whispered in relief, giving Gomez a light pat on the back. "For a moment I thought you really lost it there, old man."

Gomez took a deep breath, pondering just for a split second if telling Vlad now was really a good idea, it probably wasn't but then what did it matter when? It was all a disaster no matter when or how Vlad would find out, better he found out from him than through some damned gossip.

"Can we talk? Privately?" He asked his cousin, trying to ease the anxious feeling in his stomach.

How would Vlad react to his betrayal? He couldn't tell. He realised it was infinitely easier to be caught red-handed in the act than to actually admit his misdeeds, to dress this act of betrayal into words made it an absolutely excruciating experience.

Vlad nodded to the flight of stairs where they both knew the conference rooms were located and would provide them with at least a modicum of privacy. Although Gomez wasn't sure if one-to-one with Vlad would be of any benefit to him, once he told his cousin the truth.

"It's not worth anything at this point," Gomez said in a hoarse whisper, as they stood next to one of the locked, empty, glass conference rooms."But I want you to know how sorry I am for what I'm about to tell you."

His cousin looked mildly amused.

"That… sounds very dramatic," he smiled, taking one of his cigars from his breast pocket and offered one to Gomez.

Gomez shook his head.

"I'm leaving Ophelia," he started slowly, his eyes firmly on his cousin. "I'm having an affair," he said but Vlad only looked at him incredulously.

"Yeah, chap, I know, I'm not blind," he replied, thoroughly amused. "So if it's not the blond chick you want to shoot yourself in the foot for, who is it?"

Gomez closed his eyes briefly, his mouth felt suddenly dry, maybe this wasn't actually the best time, maybe he should tell him later, maybe -

"Morticia."

The name rolled out of his tongue almost unconsciously, in a firm, confident whisper and Vlad looked at him as if he didn't hear him, he was just staring at him calmly, puffing at his cigar as if Gomez's confession completely went over his head.

"That… is not funny, Gomez," Vlad finally retorted warily.

"It's not supposed to be funny," Gomez said, curling his palms into tight balls."I'm sorry, I know - "

"No," Vlad interjected, realising just how serious his cousin's words were."You really must be fucking kidding me - "

"I'm in love with her."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Vlad thundered, dropping his cigar on the carpeted floor before grounding it with his shoe."What, in the actual fuck, is wrong with you?"

"I'm sorry - "

He didn't even bother averting himself from the first punch and the sharp, pulsing feeling reverberated through the left side of his jaw.

"The fuck you are," Vlad hissed.

"Vlad -"

"If you were sorry, you wouldn't be sleeping with her. What the fuck is wrong with you two? She's your wife's sister, you son of a - I can't fucking believe you, Gomez, how could you do this to me? After all we've been through? After Fester - what the fuck is the matter with you? Do you enjoy stealing other people's fiancees?"

"She's not your fiancée - "

The second punch was harder, and wholly deserved. He didn't know what possessed him to blurt such idiocies, and the second time this evening, no less.

"You knew how I felt about her and still chose to fuck her behind my back!" Vlad hissed, showing him against the glass wall.

Gomez didn't resist.

"Keep your voice down - "

"Why?" He shoved him again." So nobody would learn of your dirty little secret?"

"I love her."

His cousin only let out a contemptuous half-laugh.

"The fuck you do, Gomez, the only person you love is yourself, that much is fucking clear," he retorted, fisitng his palms into the lapels of Gomez's tuxedo. "Stay away from Morticia, do you hear me? Stay the hell away from her."

"I can't do that -"

"Yes, you fucking can," his cousin retorted angrily, "get your shit together and go back to your wife, you stupid egotistical piece of - "

"Gentlemen," the voice behind them echoed dully and Vlad immediately released his hold of him, taking a step back."I think you're starting to draw a little too much attention to yourself."

Gomez swallowed heavily, staring directly at his father-in-law.

The older man's knowing gaze didn't leave him for a second as he slowly approach them.

"Vlad, go get some fresh air," he said."I think Gomez and I need to have a word."


Morticia sat heavily into the leather armchair in a dark, deserted hotel bar, resting her elbows on her knees as she cradled her head in between her hands. She needed a few moments to herself before asking the doorman to hail her a taxi because she just couldn't stay here another minute.

It felt as if the air was trapped in her chest, heavy and dense with guilt and betrayal and she wanted nothing more but for this feeling to stop. No, what she wanted was to stop feeling at all, to stop thinking, stop hurting, she longed for the world to stop just for one moment.

"This must be some new low for you, hmm?"

She felt her whole body tense at the sound of Ophelia's voice, her palms prickled with apprehension as she swallowed heavily, slowly lowering her hands to rest them on her knees and turned towards her sister.

"But I must say I'm a little impressed that you've shown up, I thought I would have to drag you here by the hair, I guess you have more guts than I gave you credit for," Ophelia remarked in a slow measured tone.

Morticia pushed herself to stand up, bracing herself for the confrontation she really didn't have the emotional energy to face right now, but then, come to think of it, she didn't know why she thought she would be granted any respite.

"I suppose fucking your sister's husband is enough of a scandal, no need for additional drama, right? Well, except -," Ophelia paused and tilted her head and smiled coldly.

Morticia knew that tone so well, intimately well. When they were little girls that look in Ophelia's eyes, that malicious tone in her voice would make Morticia hide in the library for the rest of the day. It meant that Ophelia was in one of her particularly vicious moods and she wouldn't stop until she made Morticia cry. It meant hurtful words, broken toys, pages in Morticia's favourite books torn out and her paintings destroyed.

Morticia used to dread those moods.

But that was a long time ago, since then Morticia learned to build a really tall wall that no hurtful words or deeds could penetrate.

Except, over the past few days, there was very little of that wall left.

"For what you've done, I should snap your little neck in half - I wanted to, but now that I think of it… maybe it's not your fault, maybe that's just the way you are - just like your own mother," Ophelia said pointedly, looking staring into Morticia's eyes." Just like the whore who seduced my mother's husband. It's in your blood."

Morticia's eyes widened at her last words, the last naive remnants of any hope she had that it was all some horrible misunderstanding dissolved almost instantly the moment the words left Ophelia's lips.

It was the truth, then. Everything that man told her, it was the truth.

"Oh, I forgot, that was supposed to be our family's twisted little secret," Ophelia smiled, baring her perfectly white teeth. "Ooops."

Was she really so completely oblivious, was she really that stupid not to see what was in front of her eyes all those years?

"Isn't it ironic?" She went on, invading Morticia's personal space. "Your mother seduced a married man too… I suppose an apple really doesn't fall far from the tree, does it? But you know what's comforting about all that? In the end, she got what she deserved."

"And what was that?" Morticia finally whispered, the curiosity suddenly getting the better of her.

"The poor little whore died in childbirth, of course," Ophelia replied smoothly." Sad, isn't it? It seems that you were a stroke of bad luck for everyone from the very moment you were born."

Morticia knew she was saying those things to hurt her, she was used to Ophelia's sharp tongue but she couldn't help but flinch at the ferocity of her malice, the sheer hatred laced into those words as if it was all brewing inside her all those years and now she was finally allowed those feeling to spew forth. And they spew forth with vengeance.

"It's really quite a skill on your part, don't you think?" Ophelia continued, leaning against one of the tables. "I mean your sheer ability to fuck things up for everyone is just uncanny. Think about it - instead of leaving you in some god-forsaken orphanage, as any man with an ounce of common sense would, our idiot father decided that it would be a fantastic idea to bring you home and raise you here out of… guilt, I suppose, and what did that achieve?" Ophelia asked, extending her arms to motion around her, letting out a small chuckle." You've literally managed to ruin everyone's lives in practically one stroke, I mean… if it wasn't my own life you were fucking up since the moment you were born I think I would start clapping."

How absurd life was. How absurd it was that Morticia spent so many years yearning for the love of the very two people who cursed her very existence - her sister, who never wanted to be her sister and her mother - who was not even her mother, for whom she was nothing but a daily reminder of how she was betrayed.

How did it make her feel to have to look at Morticia every single day? Every time Morticia called her her mother. Every time Morticia wanted to spend time with her as a child, all that time she could probably barely look at her without feeling… what? Humiliated? Hurt? Betrayed? All of that. Morticia was all that to her and nothing more.

God, she wished those stupid tears would stop threatening to come, the last thing she needed was to fall apart in front of Ophelia.

"That's why I hate you so much," Ophelia went on, irked by her silence."You are the worst thing that ever happened to me, to this whole family and this… your affair with my husband, just proves it. You've seduced him because you can't stand the thought of me being happy."

Morticia let out a ragged, choked half-breath.

"Is this really what you think?" She whispered."That I did it to spite you?"

"You always were a jealous bitch," Ophelias retorted curtly.

"I'm not about to try to dissipate my own fault here, I've made my own decisions, but so have Gomez," Morticia pointed out, trying to keep her voice steady, almost desperate for this conversation to end, even though she knew she had no right to feel this way.

She was not the victim here, she deserved each and every verbal blow Ophelia delivered with utmost precision but it was still a lot to take. She needed a minute to herself, she needed a moment of respite to even attempt to make sense of all that happened tonight, just a moment, that's all she needed. Just a moment to breathe.

"No," Ophelia disagreed, folding her arms against her middle."Gomez is like any other man in the world, he will not say no when a woman spreads her legs for him, but you? You've made a deliberate choice to seduce him because my happiness just rubs you the wrong way, doesn't it?"

Morticia shook her head, ever so slightly.

"That's not true," she said, swallowing heavily. "But there was never any way to convince you otherwise, there's even less chance of that now. But it was never about hurting you."

"No? What is it about then?" She taunted."Your misguided need for attention?"

"Love," Morticia replied simply." We fell in love."

"Oh please, spare me the bullshit," Ophelia retorted condescendingly. "To be honest, I don't fucking care why you did it, but it ends now, do you understand? I am his lawful wife and you are nothing but a whore who seduced another woman's husband and it ends here. I will not give him a divorce," she seethed."Even if he leaves me to be with you, you will always be his little whore - nothing else."

"What are you saying, then?" Morticia asked, forcing herself to draw another breath, and then another, willing herself not to look away from such blatant loathing reflected in Ophelia's eyes." That you really don't care whether he loves you or not? You don't care who he's sleeping with as long as he's discreet about it and you get to play Mrs Addams?"

Ophelia shook her head and then pushed herself off the table, she was leaning on and approached Morticia.

"No. I am Mrs Addams," she hissed, taking another step closer."Something you will never be."

Morticia flinched, and then swallowed heavily.

"I never wanted to hurt you, and despite what you might think, I am sorry," she retorted confidently but softly still. "But I didn't have an affair with him to hurt you, I do love him."

"Oh, you love him… and so that makes it all okay?" Ophelia replied sardonically.

Morticia shook her head, "No, it doesn't."

"Do you think you're saving him from a loveless marriage? Is this what he's told you?"

"He never said such a thing," she shook her head. "I'm not trying to save him from anything. There's nothing I can say to make it less painful," Morticia continued, "but I didn't do it to hurt you, and neither did Gomez."

"You try to convince yourself that you did it for love or whatever," Ophelia replied coldly." But the truth is, you're a jealous, malicious bitch. You always were."

"That's not true," Morticia let out a choked whisper.

"Isn't it? You were always jealous, Morticia," Ophelia told her." All those fucked up things you've done to draw mother's attention? What were they if not jealousy? Because you couldn't stand the fact that mother loved me more and you were too stupid to notice that's because you were nothing but an insult to her. You are a mistake. A guilty conscience. That's all."

Morticia flinched as if she just slapped her, resisting the almost overwhelming need to take a step back.

"Going for the jugular, aren't we?" Morticia remarked sardonically but could feel her throat constrict. God, she needed to get out of here. Now.

"You are a mistake," Ophelia went on, taking a step closer. "You were always a mistake, can't you see it? You were a mistake then, and you are now, and that's what you will be to Gomez as well, as soon as he comes to his senses."

"I think it's best if we put an end to this conversation," Morticia interjected feebly, getting past Ophelia and, making it almost as far as the exit before Ophelia's voice made her falter.

"He doesn't love you," Ophelia said, stopping Morticia in her tracks but she didn't turn towards her."Do you think he's any different now from when I married him? He was never faithful to any woman before and never will be. You're not any different, no matter what he's told you. What do you think is going to happen now? Do you think you will have your happily ever after? Don't you realise the scandal you're going to cause? Is that what you want? To ruin everyone's life so you could fuck my husband?"

"I didn't want to ruin anyone's life," Morticia insisted, finally turning to face Ophelia."But we've gone too far already and we can't just go back to the way things were and act as if nothing happened."

"Yes. Yes we fucking can," Ophelia insisted, glaring at her."You can leave my husband alone and leave - leave, Morticia, go back to that bloody Europe or wherever the fuck you want, just leave. Do one thing that should have happened from the very beginning - disappear from our lives, leave, go to hell or die, I don't give a fuck, just disappear from my life - "

"That will not change anything, Ophelia," Morticia replied, keeping her tears at bay with the last ounce of will.

"Oh for fuck sake, let me make you something very clear," Ophelia hissed." Get this into your thick skull - divorce is not an option. I will not be humiliated like this. If I need to wait until he gets bored playing with you to come back to his senses, then so be it."

"You can't be serious."

"Oh, I'm deadly serious. With a little hope," she said, measuring her words with abject cruelty." You will meet the same fate as that whore who birthed you."

Whoever came up with the stick and stones idiom obviously never met Ophelia because not until this evening did Morticia realize that words not only hurt, but can cut right through you, words can make you bleed, and words can shatter.

God, those damn tears. She hated when that happened when she was a child, and she hated it even more now.

"And what would that change for you?" She whispered, not bothering to wipe the tears off her cheeks. "Even if I died, do you think it would fix your marriage? Would it make Gomez love you?"

"Shut up, " Ophelia hissed.

"My mother died," Morticia said, realizing that she was saying it out loud for the first time. Her mother died and the words tasted foreign on her tongue. Dead. She was dead. Her mother was dead. She swallowed heavily and whispered again," my mother died, did it fix their marriage? Did it fix anything at all?"

She could see Ophelia's jaw tense before she looked at her with such unbridled resentment, Morticia almost took a step back at the force of it.

"God, I hate you so much," Ophelia whispered fiercely. "Go and whore with him all you like but you will never be anything more than that - his whore," she shot back." And most importantly… you will never be his wife, I can promise you that."


A/N: Thanks for reading! Feedback is always appreciated. x