Living With the Choices We Make (Domestic Violence / Abuse) ✔️

5 - Thanksgiving With The Family

This chapter is dedicated to my follower Tesfaye_girl who has motivated me to continue with this story.  Thanks for your comments and votes.

5 - Thanksgiving With The Family  

Over the next two weeks, Brent apologized over and over again. Just seeing him on the weekend was a thing of the past, he visited me every night and brought me flowers. His remorse was sincere. He confessed he totally lost it, claiming the trigger had been a conversation with one of his professors who had told him that he was failing a class. When he had seen me with Martin, it was the straw that had broken the camel's back.

"I am so sorry," were always his first words after greeting me. "Please forgive me."

Eventually, I did, totally believing him. After he was out of the dog house, he eased up a little but there were no longer two consecutive days when we didn't see each other. Even my dad accepted him as an almost permanent fixture to our apartment.

It was the middle of November when he requested for me to come home with him for Thanksgiving. I never thought my father would agree but he actually seemed relieved.

"I think that's a great idea. I have to work and it would mean a lot to me if Rena had a real family celebration for a change."

He even paid for the flight to Virginia. There were conditions, of course, one being that he talked to Brent's parents. Both confirmed they were delighted to have me and promised that they would keep an eye on things. There would be no temporary cohabitation in the same bedroom – both fathers didn't want the risk of an unwanted pregnancy. They were so naïve. If Brent and I really wanted to have sex, there were plenty of opportunities during one of the many evenings my father left us alone in the apartment to go to work.

Yet, we had not reached this particular level in our relationship though things had heated up after Caroline's party during those many hours of forgiveness. We often snuggled on the bed, now skin on skin except for my panties and his boxers, watching movies or listening to music. He made me shiver when his hands touched me tenderly or when he covered almost my entire body with kisses and a few times, I had almost given in.

He exercised admirable constraint and never rushed me. He bided his time, knowing that I wouldn't be able to resist forever, but had no clue that I had secretly already fixed the day I would become his – December 19th, my sixteenth birthday. Only a few more weeks to go and he held steady.

I was actually really excited to meet his parents. I bought a new dress down to my ankles to look respectable and left most of my makeup behind. I wanted his folks to get a good impression of me.

My heart was pounding in my throat when his father picked us up from the airport. He was a giant of a man, physically trim with muscular arms and a hard face. I was immediately intimidated.

"So this is her," he said sternly, inspecting me suspiciously in the most scrutinizing way.

"Yes, sir." Brent stood straight as a stick, never meeting his father's gaze. I had the impression he was terrified of him and would later learn that he had sufficient reason to.

"Let's go," his dad grunted and we followed him like sheep on their way to the slaughter.

The trip to the house was almost unbearable. Mr. Parks practically interrogated his son, asking about his grades and how he was getting on in Chicago. Brent's answers were as concise as possible, never elaborating on anything. He never mentioned the failing course and I knew instinctively not to get involved in any of their conversation. I sensed trouble if I had.

His mother was the complete opposite, kind to the extreme. She hugged Brent for a full two minutes in tears before turning to embrace me.

"Oh, I'm so happy to have you two spend the holidays with us," she cooed. She showed me to the guest room and I was stunned by the meticulous order. There was no speck of dust and everything was in its proper place. The whole room reminded me of a museum - even the towels in the bathroom were aligned in a perfect row.