Chapter 83 More like a chore
My heart was heavy as I returned to Dashiell's house. I had to leave that night. Hearing those words from Brion made me want to reach out and kiss him, but I couldn't do that. Despite how much I wanted to throw all caution to the wind and let our passion run through the night, I couldn't do that with Brion. It would seem like I cheated with him.
I stayed in the car for close to an hour, thinking of Brion's confession. I wondered if I would have gone through with my plans for revenge if he told me about this a month ago. Would I have forgotten everything just to be with him?
I believe the response would be positive. I admired Brion. There wasn't anything I could fault about him. Dating him would be like a dream come true. The only problem was how that dream got dashed by my thirst for revenge. I was into this and realized it would be difficult to extricate myself until I had done all I planned. Not only to Dashiell but to Lilith and his mother. My family would be the next after I had taken care of them. With that thought in mind, I knew it was time to complete my plans with Dashiell.
He was already suspecting me because of how detached I became after having sex with him. I needed to make him believe I was staying for him. This way of leaving would break his heart. After him, I intend to go after Lilith. Having him split up with her was just the start. I will make her feel what it means to lose someone special to her. It wouldn't necessarily lead to death. A separation was what I
had in mind.
I exited the car, inhaling the clean air. I felt rejuvenated as I strode to the house, already formulating my plans. It has been a week since we were last intimate. Initiating one and acting like I missed him when I didn't, sounded like the best thing to do at the moment. Not only that, but I desired an outlet for the feelings raving havoc within me.
I needed to take my mind off the conversation I had with Brion, and what better way to do that than through sex? It wasn't as if I felt anything for Dashiell. Brion was the one I felt something for. And since I couldn't be with him until I had sorted my life out, Dashiell was the only one I knew I could be with.
The lights were off when I entered the house. He must have gone to bed thinking I wouldn't return. I didn't plan on it, though. Had Brion not confessed his feelings while saying those emotional words, I would have stayed there until tomorrow. I intended to make breakfast for my babies before leaving, but Brion had to spoil my plans. Not that I blamed him. There was nothing wrong with telling others how you felt.
I removed my shoes by the door and wore the house slippers I kept there for the purpose. Having grown up in a mixed home, with my mum an Asian and my dad half African, I learned how to keep my shoes at the door. Wearing outside shoes in the house was forbidden. My mum would chew my ears each time I did that.
Even though they lived on another continent, far from their countries, they still maintained the strict upbringing they got from their parents.
Thinking of my parents brought a frown to my face. Others would feel happy or homesick each time they remembered their parents, but I always felt the opposite. With them, I only recalled all the things I was forced to do by them because I wanted to be the 'perfect daughter'.
A position I never got, despite the things I did to earn that title. To them, I was nothing but a money-making machine, which was why they never bothered about me all these years. The settlement money they got from Dashiell when he got married to me was enough to send them out of the country. I last saw them 6 years ago when they left France. Since then, I have seen none of them, nor come across my siblings. There was a time I heard my mum returned to the country, but she didn't bother to visit me.
Shaking my head to rid it of the thoughts of my family, I switched the parlour light so I could drop my bag before leaving to look for Dashiell. Since the lights were off in the house, I knew the only place he would be in was his room.
My slippers made sounds on the tiles as I walked up the stairs, and towards his room, marching my mood.
I opened his door and stopped in, not before preparing myself for what was about to come. To me, it wasn't just about punishing him, but myself. Each time I slept with him, I always got depressed afterwards, something I had been battling for weeks. The guilt I always felt after every coupling made it seem more like a chore than a pleasure to me. The only time I got that gratifying feeling was during sex. After that, it would turn into regrets.
His room, just like the rest of the house, was shrouded in darkness. Carefully, I walked over to his bed and lay on it, reaching out to stroke him.
"Nova? What are you doing?" His voice was groggy, obviously from having woken up at my touch.
"What does it seem like I'm doing?"
"I..." He gulped, unable to complete his words as my hands moved and pressed on his chest before reaching towards his face, blindly doing so as the light was still off.
Dashiell reached up and held it there, his palm warm over mine as he tried to keep my hand on his cheeks. I had to tug hard before he let go, but not without letting out a pained groan.