Avenging Cupids

Chapter 11: Hope Springs Eternal

“The whole world is divided for me into two parts: one is she, and there is all happiness, hope, light; the other is where she is not, and there is dejection and darkness...” 

― Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace

Alden suddenly stopped kissing her, an expression of pure horror all over his face. Tension took hold of his shoulders, his throat, and each tendon and ligament in his body. Willow watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down—a sure sign that Alden was swallowing his fear to no avail.

Suddenly, Willow heard it. 

Her stomach tightened painfully. At the doorway—directly behind her—were the sounds of shuffling feet. Without having to look over her shoulder, she knew who stood there. She virtually heard Elle saying “Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap” over and over again in her mind. She could hear her father’s obscenities and her mother’s empathy. 

All the while, Willow was staring at Alden with wide eyes that were almost white with utter fear. Her life was over. If only she could turn back the hands of time and thought to lock the door.

She became vaguely aware of the sudden chill that engulfed the room. She felt the anger that swirled in the form of susurrations in the air. She was still straddling Alden’s lap, her dress hiked so far up, her lacy underwear was visible. The fact that Alden was shirtless and the fact that his hair looked like an octopus didn’t help the situation at all. 

Willow couldn’t find the will to get up. She would have rather died there than to face her parents. The worst thing a child could do was disappoint the people who brought them into this world. This was so much worse than bringing home a bad report card or even a hickey. Willow had never felt so ashamed before. 

Alden, finally snapping out of his fearful daze, slipped his hands beneath Willow’s armpits and lifted her off of him. She let her thick hair fall in front of her face like a waterfall, shielding her disgrace. She felt she could never face her parents again. Azaria and Cassius—the two most devout non-saint Catholics in the world—had to catch their sweet little daughter in a humiliating sexual act. Of course, she didn’t feel that the intense kiss and petting session was sexual—it was simply an act of passion.

“I am very disappointed in you Willow,” Azaria pronounced, shaking her head in censure.

“Willow!” boomed Cassius, making Willow’s bones rattle. “Get out. I will deal with you later.”

Willow, in no mood to protest, slowly walked away. She wanted to take all the blame, to spare Alden the wrath that he was about to take without any defenses. But she knew that any explanation she had would go through Cassius’ ear and out the other. Willow let Elle take her into her slim arms and walk her down the stairs. Both girls were silent. They knew they were knee-deep in boiling water. 

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Alden watched as the one he adored walked away, her shoulders slumped forward. He saw tears hit the ground where she walked. He wished he was there to catch them but he was literally bedridden. Cassius’ sneer was like a ball and chain that kept him rooted. Her happiness and welfare was his priority and he failed her miserably. He should have never come to Florida. He should have never been selfish. He should have just continued to watch from afar. 

Willow never cried. And now, because of him, she cried all the time. A beautiful face like hers should never be soiled with tears. It was such a shame. 

He barely heard Cassius tell his wife and Nicollette to give them a few moments alone. He barely even heard the deafening slam of the bedroom door. His whole word was silent, except for a buzzing sound in his ears. He barely saw Cassius storm towards him, huffing and puffing like the wolf in The Three Little Pigs. All he could see was Willow’s white face, her large eyes frozen in a silent scream.