Chapter 27 The Weight of Shame
POV Scarlett:
“Your place is on the ground, like any bitch in heat.”
“If you touch her again, I’ll forget you’re her father!” Damian’s voice—raw, unrecognizable—reminds me he’s still there. Even through the shame, I lift my head to look at him. He extends a hand to help me up, but I glance at my father and refuse, forcing myself to stand alone.
“Dad, I can explain. It’s not what you think,” I say, my voice trembling, tears rolling down my face from humiliation and fear.
“Tell me, does he have brothers?” My father points at Damian, who hasn’t taken his eyes off me.
“Dad, please…”
“Answer me!” His tone sharpens to a shout. “Do you people even know what kind of whore she is?” he yells, turning toward my coworkers and boss.
“Scarlett is nothing but a slut who used to sleep with four men at once.”
I feel faint, my knees threatening to give in as shame forces me to lower my head.
“Four brothers. Four cocks that bitch was glutted on. Because of her, my wife died! Died of shame for having a whore for a daughter!” His furious eyes lock onto mine. “I don’t want you in my house anymore. From this moment, I no longer have a daughter.”
I am so ashamed I want to crawl into a hole and never come out. I don’t want my coworkers or my boss looking at me like I’m some spectacle, not a person with feelings. A wave of nausea hits me, and before I can stop it, I bend over and vomit on the ground.
The tears won’t stop as I hear my father spitting lies about what I lived through with the Hawthornes—talking as if I weren’t even there, as if what I’d had with them was pure filth and not love. From my side, it was love. A deep, beautiful love.
The whispers around me leave a bitter taste in my mouth, and I vomit again. I don’t know how long passes; my mind shuts off from the noise. I’m too humiliated to stand, too broken to lift my head. All I want is to stay here until I’m sure there’s no one left to point fingers and judge me as if they know who I am.
A hand touches my back, and I don’t have the courage to look over my shoulder to see who it is. My father’s words have ripped open every wound I spent months trying to heal. I don’t have the strength to get up. I don’t even want to be strong anymore. I’d rather sit here on the ground beside my vomit than look into the faces of people I know, watching them judge me without knowing the truth—without knowing that the four men I was with were my boyfriends, that I loved them, that I had to choose between them and my mother, all because of the father who forced me to.
“Breathe slowly, and drink this—it’s water.” Mrs. Arlete’s voice beside me makes me lift my head. She holds out a bottle.
“I’m so sorry about this,” I whisper between sobs.
I look around, and no one’s left standing outside the diner. I search for Damian’s car—it’s still parked in the same place, but I don’t see him anywhere. With Mrs. Arlete’s help, I get to my feet and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. All I want is to leave and hide for days, but my father’s words echo in my mind.
I can’t go home. He’s thrown me out.
“Let’s go inside. You need to sit down.” I follow Mrs. Arlete in silence, my head lowered. Shame won’t let me speak, let alone lift my eyes.
“I don’t give a fuck!”
Damian’s roar makes me raise my head. He’s gripping Tyler by the collar of his shirt. “If I were you, I’d disappear before I treat you like the coward who calls himself her father!”
Tyler’s eyes go wide as he glances at me, and it doesn’t take long for Damian’s gaze to follow. He shoves Tyler aside, sending him crashing into a table, and strides quickly toward me. He takes my face in his hands; his touch is gentle—so gentle that for a second, I want to lean into it.
Damian presses a kiss to my forehead. I lower my head, unable to meet his eyes after everything he’s just witnessed, but he hooks a finger under my chin, lifting it firmly.
“Lift your head. Don’t you ever let anyone put you down. What you do with your life is nobody’s business. Don’t give anyone the power to tell you what you can or can’t do—especially who you can love, or who you should be with.”
My eyes burn with tears, moved by his words.
“Let’s go.”
Without another word, Damian scoops me into his arms and carries me out of the diner.
There are a thousand things I could say, a thousand reasons to protest—but the truth is, I’m not okay. For the first time, I don’t feel strong enough to fight.
Damian sets me down gently in the passenger seat, then walks around to the driver’s side and gets in beside me.
He drives into the night, silent. I lean my head against the window, tears falling again, and close my eyes—wishing this day would end, wishing that tomorrow all of this would be nothing but a nightmare.