Forced love

Chapter thirty seven

Chapter thirty seven.
Silas's pov:

I had been stuck in this house for two days now. It's killing me that I have nothing to occupy my time with. Can't do work, because I'm supposed to be dead. Can't go outside and have a beer, because I'm supposed to be dead. Can't make love to my wife, because she's not home.

She's out most parts of the day and when she gets home it's so late neither one of us is in the mood to do anything. I can't complain about her being out late because she's working her fucking ass off to get our con ready.

And when she's not home my mind tend to wander elsewhere. It wanders to that little box in my office I still haven't gotten myself to get rid of. My sister.

My mind also wanders to all her stuff I couldn't bring here. All the stuff that's still hidden behind the picture of her. The room is now dead. Dead tulips rotting on the floor.

Guilt and sadness are the emotions that come to me the most when Kathrine is away. Guilt that I couldn't bring more of her stuff here. Guilt because I know I'm letting her room rot along with all the memories of her. And sadness, because I can't fucking let her go.

I haven't yet told Kathrine I'm still keeping my sister with me. She hasn't asked, so I just kept quiet. I'm too scared she'll be able to help me let go. I know that's what's healthy and what needs to happen, but I just can't.

Deep down I know what's right to do, and I know Kathrine will be able to convince me of that too. It's just that once I've let go, I've let go forever. There's no going back after that. You can't just go back and pick up the ashes after you've scattered them.

Kathrine's pov:

My brother called me while I was in my car, driving to get home. "Hello?" I say answering the phone.

"Hey, are you back from your honeymoon?" He asks making my pulse raise. I haven't really talked to anyone I know since we got home, and I am incredibly scared that some information will slip out of me.

"Yeah, why?" I ask suspiciously. Maybe my father set him up to call me.

"You remember I called before you went too?" It takes a second before I remember the weird phone call we had then. He was about to tell me something, but backed out. "It's about that."

I have no idea what "that" is. No idea what he was going to tell me then. I stay quiet so he continues, "I—I need to tell you something." Ok he's starting to scare me. He's breathing heavily as if this is really eating on him.

"For gods sake, what? Tell me what?" I hiss, too impatient to take his silence anymore.

"When I called that day, there was something I heard. Well I overheard mom and dad talk about something." He pauses to draw in a deep breath. "Dad was fuming, he said something like—I fucking knew it. And—She can never know."

I'm so confused to what he's talking about that I'm almost loosing my mind here. "She can never know what? And who is she?" I ask dragging the information out of him.

"You—I think they were talking about you. And I swear to god I heard the words—She can never know I'm not her real father." My mind freezes and it's a miracle I'm not driving off the road.

"You have to talk to mom about it. She wanted to tell you. I think that was where their conversation started. Because she wants you to know." He says something more, but I can't hear anything at the moment. All that's going through my head are questions.

"If he's not my father—then who?" I've reached the house, but I can't get out of the car yet. I'm still too shut down in my own head to move.

"I don't know. Please talk to mom about it. Dad will be out of town for two more days." I can't take this anymore. I hang up on my brother, which was a total bitch move. But right now I'm in too much of a trance to care.

How? How is that even possible. I've lived under the roof of that man my whole life. Been tortured by a man I thought to be my own father for years and years. And yet this is so much worse. Knowing that I could have went through all of that for a man who was nothing to me. Not even my own blood.

I'm brought back to life by a peck on the window. Silas must've heard me pull up and wondered why I wasn't coming inside.

I get out of the car and pull him into a hug as soon as I'm standing. "Hey, what's wrong?" He asks knowing I don't just jump at him for hugs normally. God I love this man.

I'm clinging to him with all my power. His arms wrap around me tightly. We get inside the house and he still hasn't let go of me.

Small sobs start building up in my chest. I force myself to hold it in. Never ever am I going to cry for this man again. I won't do it.

"Shh—Why are you crying, my love?" He's soothing me by caressing his hand softly over my head.

"I'm not crying." I insist fighting the urge to burst into tears. "My whole life has been a lie." I tell him while keeping my face buried in his neck.

"I'm not sure I follow. What do mean?" His voice is so soft as he speaks. It's like he's afraid if he speaks too loud I'll crack. Perhaps I will.

"My father—turns out not to be my real father." I tell him everything after that, which is not much, but everything my brother told me at least.

And I nearly break a few times, but I refuse to let any tears spill. Not for him. Not for the man who never really was my father.

"Your brother is right, you should really call your mother to get this all cleared up. Maybe she'll tell you who your real father is." We're sitting in our bedroom now. I've just been laying on his chest for a while, processing everything.

"I'm not sure I want to know. What if he turns out worse than my—I'm not sure I could handle that." I tell him while fiddling with the buttons on his shirt.

"Oh but, Love. What if he turns out to be so much better?" I know he's right, but I'm just so scared to find out the truth. What if he doesn't like me, or worse, doesn't even know I exist.

I take a deep breath. "Ok, I guess a call wouldn't hurt. Just to hear the truth from her." I take out my phone and dial her number

Author's note:

Plot twist:0

Who do you think her father could be?

Quote: What a plot twist you were.