“Your aunt looked greatly relieved to see you today,” Michael stated after a while of quiet driving, with nothing but the powerful roaring of Michael’s Ferrari engine to fill Jean’s head.
Jean had her head rested on the cool glass of the window, her eyes half open.
The bittersweet reunion with her aunt Margaret had left Jean physically, mentally, and emotionally drained.
Jean had cried so much in the last two hours than she had ever cried in the past three years, and crying as much as she had done today had given her a terrible headache.
She had learnt the truth of things and that made matters very complicated.
Jean’s hatred for her aunt had lessened considerably after discovering that she was basically nothing more than collateral for her own mother’s debt.
When Jean had been little and growing up, despite her many questions, Aunt Margaret never liked to talk about her own parents, and now Jean understood the reason for that, because who would ever want to talk about a mother who had practically sold you off to a man as despicable and terrible as Pete.
The realization of Aunt Margaret’s situation brought about an uncomfortable thought in Jean’s mind.
Isn’t Jeff doing the same thing with me?
She wondered.
Jean shook the thought out of her head as soon as it came.
She convinced herself that her case was different because she had a choice in the matter, and ultimately, it was her own decision to marry Michael.
As Jean tried to convince herself with those words, she couldn’t quite bring herself to believe them.
However, she was okay with telling herself the undeniable fact that she had been the one to steal from Michael, and Jeff knew nothing about that.
I am simply suffering the consequences of my actions.
Jean said to herself firmly.
“Did you hear what I said?
I know you’re not asleep.” Michael’s voice cut through Jean’s thoughts, and she was forced to turn her head a bit to look at him.
He had his eyes fixed on the road, but he glanced at her once before repeating: “I said your aunt was incredibly relieved to see you today.” “I suppose.” Jean answered softly, turning her eyes away from her soon-to-be ‘husband’; instead, Jean turned towards the window once more and looked out at the darkness and occasional street light.
“Do you have any idea how worried she must have been when you packed up and left?” Michael questioned, and Jean could not bring herself to answer, for the simple reason that she felt very weak, and more importantly, she was thankful that she hadn’t run into Pete.
“You didn’t leave a note for her, did you?” Michael asked suddenly, and Jean took a deep, shaky breath as the event of that fateful day came rushing back to her again.
I hadn’t even thought of Aunt Margaret for one second that day until I’d left the house.
Jean thought bitterly, but she did not feel regret.
There was not much she could have done.
“Answer me,” Michael demanded, a bit angry, and Jean was puzzled at what exactly was getting him so worked up.
“No, I did not leave a note.” She answered tiredly, stifling a yawn.
“Of course you didn’t,” Michael barked out a mirthless laugh.
“Because you couldn’t wait to be rid of someone who genuinely cared about you, just so you could go suck the dick of that lowlife.
You’re a selfish and ungrateful thief, do you know that?” Jean’s temper flared as she turned her head to glare at Michael, but she was able to compose herself, barely.
Jean had figured for a while now that Michael probably had no idea what she had gone through living in that house.
But even if he did, so what?
He had already painted a clear picture of what he thought of her in his mind, and nothing was going to change that, so Jean didn’t even bother trying.
“I had my reasons for leaving.” She whispered.
Michael let out a mocking snort.
“I’m sure you did, and I bet they revolved around a certain boy named Jeff.” “Whatever,” Jean muttered, turning her head to rest on the window once more.
She was tired, so damn tired, and she wanted nothing more than to fall into a soft bed, hug a pillow, and sleep.
Michael was hell-bent on provoking a reaction from her, and falling into his trap would only drain her of the little energy she had.
“You should be grateful to me that I have managed to deliver you from that rat.
You might not understand it now, but later, you’ll thank me…” Michael was talking, but Jean could barely hear him.
Her eyes fluttered close and she slept.
In Michael’s car, with her head resting on the window, Jean fell into a deep sleep, and she dreamt of her mother and father and her older brother.
They were happy.