Page 73 of Fragile Twisted Vows

As I stumble upon a blank folder on Damien’s desk, right next to his computer, a sense of unease washes over me. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I open it, only to be met with a shocking revelation. The documents inside detail a secret my father has kept hidden for years.

My life, as I know it, is a lie.

I have a mother, one that is not Ann Fairchild, or so this file states.

My real mother was paid off to keep quiet and disappear from my life. The words on the pages blur as I try to process this betrayal. My heart pounds, and I feel a mix of anger, confusion, and heartache. The foundation of my identity feels shattered, leaving me grappling with the truth of who I really am and questioning everything I’ve ever known about my family. Not only that, but I question every single thing I’ve learned about Damien Reed as well.

The file contained a woman’s name, age, job, and the amount of hush money she received.

Amy Stark was a seventeen-year-old intern at my father’s office during his first run for senator and she had an affair with him, leaving her pregnant, as a minor.

She was paid a lump sum of two hundred thousand dollars, and in the contract it states that she was to keep the affair quiet and that the rights to her child would be signed over to Michael Fairchild upon birth.

And beneath all of that, lies my official birth certificate and a photo of a young, blond woman holding her baby with tears in her eyes.

Did she not want to give me up? Or was it her condition for keeping this affair quiet? She was just a kid after all.

My mind swims with a million different questions and scenarios, an endless loop of twists and turns that my father is so great at creating.

He is a gaslighter, a manipulator, and a fucking monster at best. And this file is nothing but a reminder of that.

It is a stark reminder of the lengths my father goes to keep his secrets hidden. The details were meticulously documented, leaving no room for doubt. Each piece of information painted a clearer picture of the deception that had been woven into my life. The woman’s name was unfamiliar, but her story was now intertwined with mine, a testament to the hidden truths that had shaped my existence. The hush money was a cruel confirmation of the price paid to keep me in the dark.

And it all makes sense now. The outcasting, the difference in appearance, the hatred. The constant, never-ending hatred. The abuse, the ridicule. All of it.

It’s because I never truly was one of them.

I cover my mouth with a sob as I cling to the photo of my real mother holding me in the hospital. My vision is swimming with tears and my heart is cracking open in my chest. My entire world has shattered before me, and it’s because of my father and Damien Reed.

Why does he have this file? How long has he known and why is it out on his desk?

I have to get out of here. He can’t find me like this in his office.

I shove everything back into the drawers except for my file. I burst free from his office and rush into my bedroom, locking the door behind me. As soon as I’m alone in here, I collapse to the floor in tears.

twenty-two

Damien

When I awake in my bed, I find that Lucy is not there.

I take a while to leave still, the events from last night weighing heavily on me. Megan’s confession, my drunken anger, Lucy’s overwhelming fear. Lucy saying I love you. Lucy riding me.

Lucy saying I love you.

I’d be stupid if I said I was surprised, I’m not. And I’m not all that surprised that she confessed it either. Lucy Fairchild is many things, but she truly isn’t a liar. I should have seen that yesterday.

I understand why she didn’t tell me about Megan, no matter how much it pisses me off. She didn’t put herself in this fucked up situation, I did. All of this is on me, not her. And I’m shocked that I am actually admitting that.

I’m shocked by a lot of things actually.

Like why she still isn’t next to me in bed.

I get up and shower, dressing in sweats before I walk around the house shirtless and barefoot in search of her. Henry is in the kitchen and when I look to ask where she is, he gives me a guilty expression.

Fuck. What now.

“What happened?” I demand and he sighs, clearly exhausted from the ever-changing dynamics of this household. I wouldn’t blame him if he quit tomorrow.

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