You are the other woman.

He slips two lean fingers under my boy shorts and rubs them over my folds.

“Hmm, you’re not wet.” His dark voice reaches my ears through my chanting. “Is this a challenge, Frozen? Do you want to bet how long it’ll take for me to make you wet?”

I continue staring at the invisible dot, silently repeating the mantra.

He doesn’t deserve my words. He doesn’t deserve anything.

Aiden circles my clit, slowly teasing the swollen nub. If I don’t focus on it, I’ll feel nothing.

Nothing at all.

“You’ll be wet,” he rumbles near my ear, the sound shooting straight to my core. “You’ll be soaking my dick when I fuck the defiance out of you.”

“Or you can rape me and use the blood as a lubricant.”

Aiden stops, his fingers freezing over my folds.

He leans back and watches me closely. Intently. Like a stone.

This time, I meet his gaze. I meet those cloudy, sinister eyes that sometimes seem like an endless void. A place where you go and never return.

I want him to see my expression. No idea what it looks like right now, but I hope it’s filled with anger and hate. I hope he sees he did this to us.

He broke us.

Broke me.

He told me he chose me, but he never did.

Not really.

His choice has always been a barbie doll with ‘Queens’ as her last name.

“You think I’d do that to you?” He enunciates his question, almost as if he’s angry.

“You’ve done worse. Being mentally and emotionally raped is worse than being physically raped.”

I mean it. If he shows me his worst, I’ll be able to hate him once and for all. I’ll stop dreaming about him and his touch and his damn freaking scent.

As if reading my mind, and deciding to go against it — as usual — Aiden releases my sex and my wrists. My arms drop on either side of me like lifeless body parts.

I don’t move from the door. Not even when he steps back further.

His face remains impassive, but when he speaks, his voice hits me like thunder in a winter night. “Well played, Elsa. Well fucking played.”

“Are you done?”

He smiles, but it’s neither mocking nor in triumph. It's a challenge at its purest form. “I just got started.”

“You can use my body all you like, but I’ll never forgive you, Aiden.”

“Then I won’t touch you.”

My eyes widen.

Perhaps my ears are damaged because I could swear I just heard Aiden say he won’t touch me.

His strongest weapon has always been physical intimidation. Hell, except for today, I’ve always become a wanton mess in his hands.

I narrow my eyes. “Is that a promise? Not touching me, I mean.”

“Until you forgive me, I won’t fuck you.”

“Which means never.”

“Believe me, sweetheart. When you know the truth, you’ll beg for it.”

Dinner with Aunt and Uncle never felt so awkward.

Aunt is walking on eggshells around me and Uncle seems as if he doesn’t know what to say to dissipate the tension.

“Are you taking your meds?” Aunt asks while cutting shrimp and putting it on my plate. “You have an appointment with Dr Albert soon, so you have to watch your calorie intake and —”

“Blair,” Uncle cuts her off.

“Right.” She touches her temple. “You’re with Ethan now. It’s none of my business. Old habits die hard, I guess. Did he at least book your appointment? I emailed him all the dates colour-coded. There are tests and consultations and —”

“Blair.” Uncle touches her arm.

“Fine, fine. Let’s just eat.”

But she doesn’t just eat. Aunt basically empties the entire table on my plate.

“I forgot the soup.” She stands up. “I knew I forgot something.”

“Is she okay?” I ask Uncle after she disappears into the kitchen.

“She just needs time to get used to the new change. It’s not easy on her.”

I nod.

Uncle clears his throat. “Blair has always felt guilty about Abigail, she just didn’t show it. I’m not asking you to forgive her, but can you at least try to understand? She was shaking the entire way to Birmingham the other day. She loathes that place with a passion.”

My hands pause on the knife and fork.

I can relate to her. It’s not easy to go back to a place that traumatised you. During my entire stay at our house in Birmingham, I never had a full night’s sleep.

Not to mention the basement.

It’s still there at the far end of the tower, taunting me to come close and relieve bloodied memories.

Dr Khan said revisiting the place where a trauma started can trigger my subconscious. Dad also said that the basement now has a fingerprint-lock that I can open any time I like.

Truth is, I’m scared of that basement.

I’m scared to know what happened in there. If I step over that line, I would never be able to return.

I have the scar to prove it.

Maybe, just maybe, I don’t want to learn more monstrous things about Ma.

“Eat, pumpkin.” Uncle offers me his warmest smile. “She spent the entire day preparing this dinner.”

I swallow past the clog in my throat and take a bite of the shrimp. It’s hard to taste over the stickiness at the roof of my mouth.

Aunt returns with the soup, her eyes wet as if she’s been crying. It’s like having an arrow shoot straight to my heart.

“Aunt —”

“It’s your favourite.” She cuts me off, her voice shaking at the end. “I might not be a good parent, but I can at least cook what you like.”

“It’s okay, Aunt. I understand what trauma feels like.” I stare at my lap before facing her again. “I shouldn’t have blamed it all on you. Mum was sick. Even if you were there, I don’t think much would have changed.”

Her mouth hangs open. “Elsa…”

“I’m sorry.”

“No. I’m sorry, hon.” She leans over and wraps me in a motherly hug. It’s warm and smells like cotton candy and summer. “I’m sorry I wasn’t around from the beginning. I’m so sorry.”

Me, too.

What would it feel like if I were born to a normal mother?

I guess I’ll never know. Whether I admit it or not, my mother was a monster.

I’m the daughter of that monster.

Now, I just have to decide whether to fight or embrace it.

I have to decide if I’m the type of person who locks children up to torture them like Ma or the type who sets them free like Dad.

Death or life.

Darkness or hope.

As I wrap my arms around Aunt, I know exactly who I want to be.

14

Elsa

For the following week, Aiden doesn’t leave me alone.

He’s there during lunch, dropping off my special food. I don’t eat any of it, opting to have lunch boxes, but he keeps bringing it anyway.

He’s also there during practice, passing me water and his sports drink.

I stopped counting the number of times he wanted to talk to me and I refused.