Chapter 101: 101. I Want A Divorce
Maisie
"We arrived too late to save your father, but just in time to reach you. Matilda, the mother you knew, she was strong, but she was dying. We had to keep you safe. Hidden. Because we knew they would return," said Soren.
I had heard this part of the story before, from Kisten. "So you went to Alpha Dante. And made me the help."
I couldn’t keep the bite out of my voice, even as Soren nodded. I had in my hand pieces of a story I didn’t know what to do with. I didn’t know how to even feel. My entire life had been deconstructed in minutes.
But I felt the anger in my gut as I recalled the memory. My father bleeding out in the kitchen tiles. How could I have forgotten such a thing?
The thought clanged in my heart and my gaze snapped to Soren’s. "You did something to me, didn’t you?"
"I did," Mercer said, his eyes haunted. "What you witnessed wasn’t something any twelve year old should. We feared it would break you."
My nostrils flared. "You had no right to make that decision for me. You went into my head and erased an important part of my life and replaced it with a lie—"
I halted. For the longest time, I didn’t know why that particular memory was cloudy. I felt terrible when I couldn’t place the images to the memory, but I had tagged it as trauma. "Doctors," I whispered. "The doctors said Dad was sick. There were no doctors, were they? And... and the funeral?"
Silence fell in the living room.
Oh god.
"And mom?" I croaked. "When did she die?"
Why couldn’t I remember it?
Quinlan suddenly took a careful step towards me. "A few hours after Richter did. She got Lana out, but didn’t make it back to get you out—fuck, Adams, you need to breathe—"
"Don’t touch me!" I snapped, shooting to my feet so fast, the couch scraped behind me and slammed into the wall.
My mind was my own. It was all I had that was every truly mine. And now, being told that the world I lived in wasn’t real, and had been placed there—my mind had been tampered with—it was too much.
What was real? What wasn’t? My heart squeezed painfully. My heart seized painfully. Tears spilled down my face before I could stop them. "You had... no right... to take that from me..." I said between gasps.
Jericho moved toward me, then stopped when I backed away again. "No, we didn’t. But your father was dead. Your mother was dead. You were drugged by those bastards. You were screaming," his voice was laced with the same anguish that was reflected on their faces. "You were twelve, malyshka."
"That doesn’t make it right!" I shouted, voice raw and cracked.
My hands curled into fists at my sides. "And what about after? The years after? How could you keep that from me? How could you look me in the eye and hold all of this while I lived like some idiot in a story you created?!"
My gaze cut to Soren. "Was that how much you despised me?" I spat. "That you could know all of this and still treat me the way you did?"
Soren’s jaw tightened. "We had to keep our distance. If my aunt ever caught wind of you, whose child you were, there was nothing that would’ve stopped her from killing you. I’m not the only one who bears resentment and vengeance towards your biological mother. And that is not even the start of it. There was no involvement, no entanglement we could have had with you that wouldn’t end with you in danger. We didn’t enjoy it. We had to. Do you have any idea how much—" He broke off. "Your rage is justified, Adams, but know that your life has always matters more to us than how much you hate us, and—"
"Let me guess," I said, each word laced with bitterness. "It was the only way to save my life? And given the circumstances, you would all do it again?"
No one answered. They didn’t have to. It was there in their unrepentant gazes.
My pulse roared in my ears and a hoarse laugh slipped out of me. "What else will you take from me in the future to ’keep me safe’?" My voice rose again, ragged now. "My memories? My choices? My agency? Or will you give me lies? More lies? God, the lies. am so tired of them. I suppose sleeping with Tessa was another one of your sacrifices."
Soren flinched, as did Mercer. Jericho’s eyes hardened. Quinlan’s nostrils flared. The latter said, "You don’t know half of it."
"I don’t care what your reasons are," I said, my whole body shaking. "I don’t care that you thought you were protecting me. You decided to leave me in the dark, until it best suited your plans. You dismissed me. You insulted me. You knew who I was. What I was. And you reminded me everyday, in more ways than one, that I meant nothing."
Mercer’s hand flexed at his side, like he wanted to reach for me and knew better.
My throat burned. "You could have found another way," I said. "You could have told me the truth. You could have treated me like a person instead of a problem to be managed. Instead, you chose to manipulate me. You decided what I should remember. What I should feel. Who I should love. And now, you have made me permanently bound to you. But at what point since I met you have any of you ever asked me what I wanted?"
More silence. The air in the living area had turned oppressive and I realized I was projecting a violent aura.
Good. Let them feel it.
"You let me grow attached to you, just so you could cut me open. And you laughed while doing it. You care more about my life than how I feel about you? Fine. Then this shouldn’t be a problem."
I squared my chin and my voice was surprisingly steady as I said, "I want a divorce."
They paused.
Something rattled down the bond. Something violent.
And for the first time since this conversation began, I felt like I had taken something back.
My choice.
"Maybe the bond is unbreakable. And I am tied to you now for good." My fingers curled into fists. "But I will not be your wife. Or your whore."
