HE’S SITTING IN HER SEAT. Oh God, the walls are closing in. How can he even use the dining room like it never happened? My mother took her final breath in that chair. She probably had no idea what even happened when she choked on her own blood.
“Mel, come eat.” Markus mocked lifting up his spoon. What is that? Red syrup oozes, dripping onto the table. The dripping becomes louder with every beat of my heart, roaring in my ears. Blood everywhere, dripping from the table, creating a river flowing straight towards me. No…no…NO!
“Puya, wake up!”
My body rattles from the force of Blake’s arms shaking me. My eyes fly open to rest on his worried face. “You wouldn’t wake up. Fuck, you were in a nightmare and I couldn’t wake you.” His voice trembles, jarring me from my own tremors.
“I’m okay. I’m sorry, I just lay down for a minute. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“I didn’t really let you get much sleep last night. I take full responsibility.”
The anxiety fades into comfort. He didn’t let me sleep much; he held me and asked me things about myself.
“Favourite Color?”
“Yellow”
“Book?”
“I couldn’t possibly narrow it down to one.”
“Music?”
“Classical.”
“Shit, really?”
“Hmmm, my mom’s influence. Country was my dad’s, and soft rock is my own.”
“Film?”
“Bram Stoker’s Dracula.”
“Coke or Pepsi?”
That one gave me a chuckle. He was so serious, too. He became like a teenager meeting a girl for the first time. I didn’t ask questions about his mom but I knew he had lost his father and Blake became the parent. It’s a shit ton of responsibility to have on your shoulders at eighteen. He was headstrong, brave and remarkable for doing it all, putting himself through school and training, and making sure Ryan went to college.
I let him keep asking and answered until he asked me my favourite sexual position. When I shrugged he insisted I find one and I did, reverse cowgirl, he called it. It was me riding him backwards. I feel the heat creeping up my cheeks at the thoughts.
“The lawyer’s downstairs. That’s why I came up to get you.” Blake’s voice pops my thoughts like a bubble. My insides twist into the all too familiar ache.
He coaxes me to my feet and leads me down the stairs.
I close my eyes, praying they haven’t convened in the dining room, and sigh when Blake’s gentle tug pulls me in the direction of the study.
A grey suit matching grey hair and age-lined features greet me. Mr Dolby had been a friend of my father since I could remember.
“Hello, Melody. I’m so sorry for your loss. As you know, your family have been more than my clients. I favoured your father as one of my friends.” I offer him my hand, the grooves in his aging palm swipe across mine, encompassing my much smaller hand in his. “The reading of the will is to be done only in the company of both Melody and Markus. I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.” He looks at Blake.
The smirk from Markus is fleeting when he introduces himself as a detective. He actually blanches when the words leave Blake’s lips, like a spoken blow lashing across the space and hitting him in the stomach. Even his face has paled. A shiver races up my spine.
“I’ll be outside, Mel,” he reassures me, closing me in the room with the two men.
I sit through his legal jargon, trying not to snap at Markus for bouncing his knee constantly. He just wants to know what he has coming to him.
“Markus, something recently came to light and I’m sorry to be the one to tell you both this. The fact is, you may not be the biological child of Mr Masters.”
All the oxygen in the room evaporates with the pulse of Markus’ wrath. His chair flies across the room, his palms crashing down on the table. “That’s bullshit!”
Shifting in his seat, Mr Dolby looks over his papers. “This document clearly states your own mother recently divulged this information to Mr and Mrs Masters, to which the will was changed until proof can be provided.”
That would explain why I never felt any connection to him.
“That fucking bitch!” I jump from the venom in his tone about his own mother.
“It’s a mistake. We can have the tests done, right?” I ask, trying to tame the building anger pouring from Markus.
“Yes, it’s a simple test and the results will be back to you in a week or two.”
Pacing the carpet, Markus mumbles about the years he put in, earned him his money.
“Can I have some alone time with Melody for a moment, please?”
Angry blue eyes slash to me before Markus storms from the room slamming the door behind him.
“Melody, your father believed Markus has known this truth for some time now and kept up the pretence to receive his trust fund.”
My head swims with the overload of information. I need air and proof before I can do anything else.
“You will become sole heir to your father’s fortune, Melody. Your father left you well protected and in capable hands. I can manage your affairs like I have always done for your parents if you wish.”
I stand, stroking the creases from my ruffled dress. “I do, thank you. I just need to have the results before we proceed with anything else.”
“I understand. The funeral has all been arranged to your mother’s specifications. The service will be tomorrow, a small gathering at your mother’s church. A joint plot.”
I’m going to throw up. My mother had planned her own funeral? How morbid have you got to be to be to plan your death in your forties?
“A responsible parent prepares for all life’s possibilities so their loved ones don’t have the hard task of dealing with it amongst their grief.”
I hadn’t realised I spoke aloud, and his reply makes me feel worse for judging her actions when, just like always, she was looking out for me.