The Affair

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The Affair: Chapter 1

"Go away! I'm not your wife; I don't know you!" I cried, breaking the man's grip on my wrist.

"C'mon now, sweetheart. I know what you know, and wouldn't it hurt poor mommy if I told her the truth?" He grinned, his white teeth shimmering in the darkness.

My green eyes glared. "Just go away. Leave me alone!" I turned and stalked off, wiping his slime from my lips. Why had I chosen tonight to take the deserted back alley home?

"Fine. Walk away! I'll just head down to the hospital and let your father's little affair slip," the man laughed.

At this, I froze. How could this stranger know about the affair? How could he know that I knew? I had never seen this man in my entire life!

"H-how do you know about that?" I know, I know. I should've acted indignant, like he had the wrong girl. After all, there were plenty of Bridget Thomases in New York City.

Ignoring my question, the man in the tan leather jacket said, "Come on. We've got some things to do." And in that instant, I knew: Whoever this man was, he knew that my mother was dying of breast cancer. He knew that my father had been having an affair since the diagnosis, and that I knew. He'd found out that I was hiding it so my mother could die in peace.

And now, he wanted me to play pretend and be his wife. By the glint his blue eyes gave off, he knew that I wasn't going to run off and let him spoil my mother's final hours. Unsure, I took a step forward in my heeled booties. "I'm Michael," he smiled. Michael offered me his hand, and I shakingly gave him mine. Slowly, tenderly, he brought it to his lips, planting a ginger kiss.

That's when I woke up screaming.

I jerked up in bed, pulling the blanket around me. Tears bubbled from my eyes.

I wished I could calm myself down and go back to sleep- to tell myself it was just a dream. But it wasn't just a dream- this nightmare was my life.

My breathing began to slow, but my heart still pumped triple time in my ears. After kissing my hand, Michael had led me to his car and driven me to his shoddy apartment, his kiss sealing the deal. Then, predictably, he had his way with me. And it was all my fault.

I didn't even think it could be called rape. I mean, I didn't want him to, and I certainly hadn't said yes. But I went with him, a stranger. If I told anyone, I would just look like some sixteen-year-old prostitute. And all I wanted to do was protect my mom.

This had all begun two and half weeks ago, and since then, Michael had raped me six other times. He would find me, and when I saw him, I had no choice but to follow. It was ripping me apart inside, but I had to stay strong- even through the nightmares.

I glanced at my bedside clock; five a.m. I still had an hour before I needed to get up, but the thought of lying here gave me chills. I threw back the covers and flung my legs over the bed. I opened my closet and pulled on a pair of dark Citizens jeans and my Juicy jacket. After pulling a comb through my bed-head hair and applying light mascara, I breezed out of my room and grabbed a granola bar from the kitchen.

"Ahem."

I froze, turning around. Looks like I wasn't the only one who couldn't sleep.

"Hey, Dad." He was sitting on the light green couch in the living room, reading the newspaper. A cup of black coffee sat on the table next to his elbow. I unwrapped my breakfast. "Why are you up so early?"

"I should say the same to you," he laughed, peering over the top of his rimmed reading glasses. Dad's hair had begun to gray in the recent years, and crow's feet began to show around his faded gray eyes. I was glad I looked almost nothing like him and was a carbon copy of Mom.

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⏰ Last updated: Apr 05, 2012 ⏰

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