Chapter 59 Melissa
Melissa
Melissa turns to find Damon, paler and skinnier than when last she saw him, his features more pinched and strained.
His jeans hang off his hips and bunch at his ankles.
His T-shirt looks two sizes too big. Instinctively, she wants to pull him to her and ask if he is alright.
But she holds back, reminding herself his immediate welfare is no longer her concern.
She must put herself and her needs first, not his.
Damon clears his throat. ‘I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now.’
‘No shit,’ she mutters.
‘And you have every right to hate me. But I want to let you know I went to the fertility clinic today to make my last donation.’
Melissa doesn’t express any gratitude. Instead, she feels a pang of shame over her first thought at hearing this, which is to wonder what the staff must have thought of his appearance. She is grateful the three of them passed the ethics board panel before his recent decline.
She throws one wipe away and removes two more from a container and methodically cleans the metal frame. She senses his awkwardness and a small part of her enjoys it.
‘Mel, please,’ he says. ‘Don’t be like this. It’s unfair.’
‘You don’t get to tell me what is and what isn’t unfair,’ she snaps. ‘I’ll be the judge of that.’
‘Last time we . . . you know . . .’ She does know.
All too well. A hollow pit opens in her stomach every time she thinks about killing him, which is far too many times every damn day.
‘Anyway, I saw someone else,’ he continues.
‘A girl, this time. She had half a face. And I know what happened to her. My dad killed her.’
This momentarily punches the anger out of her. ‘Your dad?’ she repeats in a whisper, and he nods.
‘I found her story online,’ he says, ‘and learned my dad admitted to it.’
Melissa shakes her head as she takes a seat on the stretcher.
‘That’s not all,’ he continues, capitalising on her attention. ‘I went to see him.’
‘You found his grave?’
‘No. He’s still alive. He served fifteen years of a sixteen-year prison sentence for manslaughter before getting parole last year. I tracked him down.’
Her head slowly spins as Damon recounts their heated confrontation and how his father offered no reason for his actions.
Then he explains how Helena left recordings of his childhood counselling sessions for him to hear.
Listening to them blew him away, not least because he’s learned he once had a brother.
Melissa is stunned by how much has happened in such a short time frame.
Each new revelation chips away at the anger she holds towards him.
‘What else am I hiding in here?’ asks Damon, pointing his finger towards his forehead. ‘Because I know there’s more.’
‘Can you visit your dad again?’ she suggests. ‘Ask him, once and for all, to be honest with you about everything?’
‘I don’t think he’d be very receptive to me asking more questions. If his manager hadn’t arrived when he did, I think he’d have wiped the floor with more than just the sawdust.’
‘Then perhaps you have no choice but to come to terms with never knowing the whole truth.’
‘There is another way,’ he says.
She is about to ask what that would be before she reads his expression.