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Instead of the romantic spark I had imagined, a profound sense of confusion and uncertainty took hold. Was my hearing deceiving me? Did Dax truly employ the derogatory term for a female dog referring to my mother? Or did he only mean that my mother was entering a matrimonial alliance with his father?
My world seemed to halt in that very instant. "That is not..."
"You already knew, didn't you, Skye?" his voice cut through the air, silencing any potential response from me. The accusation hung heavy in the tense atmosphere, leaving me bewildered and craving clarification. With one swift motion, he released his grip on my neck, his hands finding solace in a run through his jet-black locks. His gaze drifted away from me, the weight of his emotions manifesting through stomps that resonated upon the hollow school halls.
"I genuinely don't understand what you're insinuating... this is all just senseless," I protested, my confusion evident as Dax's voice carried the weight of his accusations. How could he possibly accuse me of something so foreign to my knowledge?
"You think I'm lying, huh? You damn well knew that your mother, that goddamn prostitute, was marrying my father. And yet, you had the audacity to confess your love for me. Why would you put me through this? Is it your twisted attempt at revenge for what I've done to you? Are you trying to punish me?" Dax's words erupted with an explosive mix of anger and raw honesty, revealing the hidden pain beneath the surface.
In that moment, I found myself torn between believing his words or dismissing them as baseless accusations.
I had always harbored curiosity about the mysterious man my mother was marrying, and now Dax was claiming it to be his father.
Could it be true? But then again, Mom had dropped hints about her secret suitor being affluent and owning a prominent hotel. A quick glance into Dax's family history confirmed the truth behind his father's successful hotel and restaurant empire. Could it be that Dax's father was the enigmatic man my mother alluded to? As the pieces of the puzzle began to align, my heart raced within my chest.
"Dax, I swear on everything I hold dear, I had no knowledge of my mother's intentions to marry your father," I finally mustered the courage to respond, my voice tinged with a newfound understanding.
"Of course you didn't. You were well aware, Skye!" He insisted, the accusation still firmly laced within his words.
My pleas fell from my lips like delicate whispers, their desperation echoing through the room. The weight of the situation settled heavily upon my shoulders, a cruel twist of fate that mirrored the pages of a tragic novel. How could this be real? I had always envisioned a different ending for myself, one where I triumphed over the notorious bad boy, confessing my feelings and sealing our love with a passionate kiss. But now, all those dreams seemed like distant fantasies, shattered by an unyielding truth.
Dax's silence spoke volumes, his distant gaze adding to the unraveling chaos inside me.
In that moment, I felt utterly adrift, my heart fracturing into a million broken pieces under the weight of this unwelcome revelation.
All I wanted was to hold his hand, to feel his fingers intertwined with mine, providing solace amidst the storm. For even though his presence had tormented me, a part of me reveled in the complexity of our connection.
Yet, just as I reached out, yearning for that touch, he withdrew. He distanced himself from me, deepening the ache that consumed my soul. Could this really be the end? Was this how our story would conclude?
The words tumbled out of me, sharp and raw, propelled forward by a surge of emotion I could no longer contain. "Is this how it ends, Dax? Is this how we let it all slip away?" My voice trembled, the urgency causing my words to collide.
His response hit me like a dagger, a painful ultimatum that shook the foundation of everything I knew. "If you want an ending, Skye, you have a choice. Either convince your mother to call off the wedding, or we go our separate ways, strangers once more."
Accepting his proposition felt like swallowing a bitter pill. Deep down, I understood that my mother would never relinquish the opportunity to marry someone as powerful and affluent as Mr. Blackwood. My offer would fall on deaf ears, and I would be left to navigate the aftermath alone. This was why she had kept his identity hidden, urging me to wait six long months, fearing the inevitable clash that awaited us.
And then there was Dax's suggestion, cutting through the chaos and adding another layer of conflict to our already tangled lives.
How could I become a stranger to the one person who had tormented me throughout high school, even if, at times, I had almost enjoyed the cruel dance we shared?
But now, fate had intertwined our paths in the most unexpected way.
With only six months left until we became step-siblings, the situation was destined to become more unbearable, the tension thicker and suffocating.
"Is that the best you can come up with, Dax?" I asked assertively, closing the physical gap between us in an attempt to bridge the emotional chasm. For now, I felt a quiet confidence in my steps. "Why is it that now, when I've mustered the courage to confess my love for you, you want to distance yourself? How can you expect us to be strangers just as my heart yearns and shatters for you? Did it ever occur to you, Dax, the toll this would take on my fragile heart? Did you consider that I would quietly bear witness to my mother marrying your father?" The words escaped my lips, weighed down with the agony coursing through my veins.
"Why was your prostitute mother involved to begin with?"
"Don't you dare slander my mother, Dax!"
"Please answer my query, Skye."
"I will not dignify your disrespectful question with a response, Dax. Retract your words immediately. My mother is not deserving of such derogatory remarks!" I exclaimed, although deep down, I didn't mind Dax labeling my mother in such a way. It was my burden to resent her, not his.
He sneered. "I stand by my words. And to compound the situation further... Your mother has a promiscuous reputation and has frequently trespassed into my household, unwelcomed by my father. Little did I suspect that it would be your own promiscuous mother!" Dax proclaimed.
"Well, I suppose you should relish the fact that my mother is joining your promiscuous father in matrimony. Take joy in the prospect of having a mother figure soon enough."
I blurted out the words without considering their impact, feeling a strange mix of satisfaction and exhilaration as I put Dax in his place. It was as if some part of me needed to assert my dominance, to reclaim my position as the one who could say hurtful words to my mother, not him.
