Heartbreak 'n Heels

Chapter 31

Jennifer sighed as she trailed a finger down the picture she kept by her bed and thought back to the day they'd taken it. Deacan had been in the kitchen, icing a cake while she talked to her mother. Well, the word "talk" was generous. It was more like she listened to her mother berate her while her father muttered his agreement in the background.

Her parents didn't approve of Deacan. Though he treated her well and made a good living, they had small minds and unless he could change himself into a white man, he'd never be good enough. No choice she made was ever good enough.

When she'd ended the call, he knew it hadn't gone well. He pulled her into the kitchen, coaxing her to help him with the cake. They stood in silence, him with his arms wrapped around her as she slowly spread icing around the side of the cake. When she reached for more, Deacan stuck two of his fingers in the bowl and spread icing on her cheek and nose. Jennifer shrieked as he turned her, kissing that same cheek and spreading the icing down her face and neck with his lips.

"You're making me all sticky," she'd said through her giggles. He continued his playful assault and while he was distracted, Jennifer reached for the bowl. She called his name and when Deacan looked up at her, she spread icing on his lips and nose.

"You're in for it now," he'd said. A few minutes later, their faces and necks were covered in icing. Some because of their fingers, but mostly because of their lips. Deacan grabbed his phone and took a picture of them then sent it to her.

Jennifer had given him another sticky kiss and said, "Thank you. You always make me feel better."

"I'll always make you feel better," he replied then he pulled her to the shower where they cleaned the icing off each other and he made love to her, whispering in her ear how much he loved her.

Staring at the photo and remembering that day reminded her of how alone she was. She'd gone home for the holidays, thinking that maybe her parents would take pity on her, see how hurt she was, and give her the affection she'd always wanted from them. That was some stupid thinking.

When she showed up two days before Thanksgiving, surprising her parents, they were indifferent. They made sure to let her know her presence was an inconvenience. When she broke down and told them about what happened between her and Deacan and then with Jonathan, both of them scoffed and expressed their embarrassment. Their shame was palpable.

"The one thing you should be able to do is keep a man. You were raised to be the peak of perfection and you let that Deacan cast you aside? Shame on you!" Her mother chastised her, the disdain evident. Her father gave her a disparaging look with a shake of his head. Her mother continued, "Furthermore, you then get a man worthy of being with you in Jonathan and you messed that up as well. I don't know how I raised such a failure."

"You didn't raise me," Jennifer replied. Growing up, she'd had a revolving door of nannies. As soon as one of her parents felt she'd grown attached to one, they brought in a new one. It was disorienting to have affection ripped away like that; to grow up feeling like something was wrong with you because everyone left you. She thought her comment was low enough to where they hadn't heard her, but that wasn't the case. The silence that fell over the room threatened to suffocate Jennifer if one of her parents didn't.

"Hmm...you're right," her mother replied. Jennifer was shocked at the fact that she'd agreed with her. There was a hint of hope that they were finally going to work out whatever had been wrong between them.

"Mother, I appre-"

Her mother held up a hand to quiet her and Jennifer knew she was about to be disappointed once again. "I didn't raise you because I didn't want you. You were a means to an end. Your father and I are great people, important people, and there are certain expectations of us. Having you made us look good, but you never mattered."

Jennifer looked to her father, but he didn't look at her. He squeezed his wife's hand and got up from the table. That was the moment she felt everything inside her crumble and fade away. She truly was nothing. She meant nothing to anyone. Tears rolled down her face and she didn't even have the strength to wipe them away, to not embarrass herself in front of them.

"Since you're here, we'll take a family photo for the holidays for the public. I'll schedule it for this evening. Make sure you've gotten yourself together by then." Her mother finished her breakfast as if she hadn't just killed everything inside of her, then left her sitting at the table, alone.

If she'd had anyone that really cared for her, Jennifer would've returned to St. Louis. At least if she stayed here, there'd be people around and she could pretend she was wanted. Little or bad attention was better than none at all, right?

Her parents held a dinner party for Thanksgiving and held their annual Christmas party. The time between the parties was spent with little conversation with her parents. She barely talked to the staff in the house because she knew her parents would get rid of them if any type of meaningful relationship developed. Jennifer spent her time reading and people watching at a cafe and going to movies. People made polite conversation with her because of who her parents were. She couldn't bring herself to add any depth to her interactions with anyone because she knew they would disappoint her. Everyone disappointed her.

Jennifer played the part of the dutiful and loving daughter at both parties. She soaked up the attention, especially that of her parents. Even though she knew it wasn't real, that they both despised her, she couldn't help taking in the praise they gave her in front of their guests to heart. They were saying the words she'd longed to hear from them all her life and giving her the looks of adoration that could heal her. Jennifer absorbed it all and pretended it was real, especially when the facade faded as soon as a guest moved on. It got her through the nights.

After Christmas, her parents did what they'd always done, they threw money at their problem. She'd checked her bank account the morning after the Christmas party to discover a $500,000 increase. When she went downstairs in search of her parents, their cook handed her an envelope. The note inside said they were going on vacation and that she should go back home. The illusion she'd held from the fake love last night faded away but Jennifer refused to cry this time. She vowed she'd never shed another tear over her parents. Her bags were packed and she was out of the door and on the road back to St. Louis in under an hour.

That was days ago and she wasn't going to stay in this funk. Staring at the picture of them covered in icing only solidified her resolve to get Deacan back. She picked up her phone and got straight to the point when he answered.

"Anything happen while I was gone?"

"No," he replied dryly. The boredom was evident in his response.

"Good. Things are about to become much more exciting. Are you ready for this?"

He chuckled as a reply.

"Time for us to get what we want." She hung up the phone and jumped out of bed. It was time to get her man back and she wasn't going to let anything, or anyone for that matter, stop her.