The Perfect Family

Trust Issues

Vincent:

Sitting here in the dark basement without anyone to talk to for over six hours gave me the time I needed to put my situation into perspective. Being bound and helpless was an awful feeling, and I could not help but dwell on the guilt of putting my sweet Emily through it all those years ago.

She was (and still is) the love of my life, and I treated her like a prisoner.  I knocked her out more than once and kept her bound and gagged for several hours, thinking it was an appropriate punishment for her not loving me back. 

I was a damn fool.

No wonder she was so frightened of me.

There had to be some way that I could make it up to her, to show her that I'm sorry for ever putting her through so much trauma. 

I would give anything in the world to make things right between us.

The door to the basement finally opened, letting in a small amount of light, and Matilda came running down the stairs with a big bowl of ice cream in her little hands. She set the bowl on the floor and ran back upstairs to turn on the lights, then she smiled at me and pulled the dirty bandana from between my teeth. I sucked in a heavy, relieved breath.

"Shhh..." She pressed her finger to her lips. "Mom has no idea that I'm down here."

"What do you want?" I asked, feeling suspicious.

"I wanted to bring you a sweet treat." She took a heaping spoonful of vanilla ice cream and shoved it towards my mouth. "Open up, Daddy."

I smiled back at her and took a bite, savoring the sweet and cold taste on my tongue. This was the first bowl of ice cream I've had in over a decade, and it was even more delicious than I remembered.

Matilda giggled as she continued to feed me. "Oh, I just knew this would make you happy. Ice cream makes everything better."

"No arguments here." I laughed, swallowing my last bite.

I stared at her in silence for several seconds, really studying her face. She truly was a beautiful little girl, and for the first time I could see a piece of me inside of her. She was desperate for my acceptance and approval, just as I had been with my own father.  This entire time I have been treating her like a reject, just because she was conceived by Stella instead of Emily.

I was blaming her for something she had no control over. 

I was acting like my father.

The realization washed over me like a tsunami and my stomach swam with nausea.  Matilda put her hand on my shoulder and stared at me through concern filled eyes.  "Are you okay, Daddy?"

I closed my eyes and shook my head. "No, baby. I'm not okay."

"What's the matter?"

Tears filled my eyes and I looked back at her. "I'm sorry for being so cruel to you, Matilda. I should have never acted that way."

Her mouth opened, but she couldn't find the words to speak.

"You don't have to say anything. I just want you to know that I truly am sorry."

Her eyes swelled with tears as well and she sat on my lap, clinging to me as she sobbed into my chest. 

"All I ever wanted was for you to l-love me."  She said, "But I was scared that you hated me because of mom keeping you down here."

"None of this is your fault."  I said, leaning my head on to hers.  "Your mom is sick and needs help."

She picked her head up. "What do you mean?"