Avenoir

Avenoir - John

John

I let Marlena pull her hand from mine, and I see Kristen note that particular before and after moment. Nothing escapes her. Nothing except what she doesn't want to see. Marlena is upset, I know, and she has every right to be. Everything Kristen is saying is so ridiculously out of character for Marlena as to be utterly laughable. If it wasn't so hurtful, and so infuriating.

I wonder, if I had not chased Marlena down this afternoon and forced her to tell me the truth about her feelings and about how Kristen had been manipulating and deceiving her, and me, whether I would have been tempted to buy Kristen's lies. I like to think I would have drawn a firm line at believing anything bad about Doc, but I have to confess, I have been so stupidly blind and so gullible where Kristen is concerned, I might have felt compelled to believe her. I might have questioned Marlena's integrity, and she would never have been able to forgive me. And she would have been right to turn her back on me.

The thought doesn't bear thinking about, and just the possibility makes the rage fizz beneath my skin. I can feel it in my jaw, in my stomach, in the way my hands pulse with every beat of my heart. I don't want to hit Kristen, of course not. But if Stefano was here, I would probably wring the fat bastard's neck.

I feel Marlena's warmth beside me, and I can feel the tension rolling off her, so I move forward and to the side so that she is behind me.

"Is that right?" I ask, as though it is a genuine question. And it is, kind of. I am giving Kristen one final chance to come clean. To backtrack on these ludicrous accusations, claims that in a thousand years would never be true. While I am sure Marlena has it in her to be jealous, she has never, could never be cruel. Just the idea that anyone could think that of her, could think that I would believe that of her, hurts me to the core. She is the better part of me, she always has been. I saw the truth of what she had been through as I drew out those confessions from her. What keeping quiet had cost her.

What has it cost Kristen? Nothing. She has the child she so desperately wanted, and she thinks she has me.

"Is that why you helped your depraved father to kidnap her and put her in a fucking cage?" I demand angrily. "Is that why you helped him to take her away from her children, away from me, from all the people who love and care about her? All the people who need her? Because she's jealous? Because she's cruel?"

"I..." Kristen's eyes widen and her face pales. I feel Marlena move behind me, turning to look at Kristen over my shoulder. "John, what are you talking about?"

"You were the only one who knew the details. I told you which plane she would be on. Marlena and your mother. You would sacrifice your own mother to get Marlena out of the picture. To keep her away from me. So, I wouldn't find out how she felt about me. So, she couldn't tell me that she knew how I felt about her."

"I..." her mouth falls open and I can almost see her brain ticking over as she scrambles for an explanation, a refutation of my accusation. And it hits me once again, how stupid I have been. How blind. This woman is not kind and innocent. She is Stefano's daughter. She's manipulative, she's possessive and she doesn't love, she covets. That is why things have been so awkward for so long now. All the unspoken words, the stories she's been telling herself, telling me. It's all been a big web of lies, exaggerations, and emotional blackmail. I've known it in my bones and yet I haven't been able to admit it to myself. Now I have, it's painfully clear.

"John," she shakes her head, tears brimming in her soulless eyes. "I don't know what you are talking about. Did she tell you that?" Her mouth hangs open again in a pretended kind of shock and anguish that turns my stomach. "I would never! I don't know how my father got that information, but it wasn't me! You have to believe that!"