Chapter Twenty-Seven
The marketing, human resources, and operations meetings went smoothly yesterday. The more time I spend on the property, the more optimistic I become about taking over full-time. My mother and I spoke extensively about my buyout plan, and she was excited about the idea. We spent time during lunch going over what it would look like and the amount we would feel comfortable offering.
I came back to the villa enthusiastic and liberated. As soon as I walked through the door, I blindfolded Piper, handcuffed her, and fucked her until I was too weak to do it anymore.
She hasn’t asked about the restraints. I’m still not sure if I’m ready to tell her yet. Feeling like I have no control over my life has made me find control in other areas. When women have mentioned it in the past, I’ve usually scoffed it off as a typical kink that people have. But the truth is, it’s all about keeping my own control. I haven’t dated anyone long enough for them to get tired of it or for me to feel secure enough to stop, so it’s become a habit.
After a brief afternoon run, I walk into the villa to find Piper pacing back and forth on the patio. She has one arm across her body and tucked into her armpit while her cell phone is raised in the air in front of her. Even through the thick glass of the sliding door, I notice something off with her body language.
I take a few steps in that direction, hiding my shadow behind the curtains. I’m curious to know why she looks upset, but I fear that if I ask, she won’t tell me. We’ve grown closer recently, but she still keeps so much hidden.
I lean into the open crack in the sliding door that was left ajar. Piper’s voice is muffled, but I can still make out some phrases since she has a low-volume call on speakerphone.
“I can’t give you any more money, Roxy,” Piper says, her voice straining.
The female voice on the other end of the call is Piper’s mother, Roxy.
“Why do you always fight me on this, Piper Moon? I am your mom. What kind of daughter are you that you wouldn’t even help your mother when she needs you?”
“But you always need my help, and right now, I have a lot going on, and I need to focus on me. Why can’t you be supportive of me for once?” I hear Piper attempt to defend herself, but there’s no absolute conviction behind her words. She sounds intimidated and unsure of herself. It’s an obvious contrast from the Piper I know.
“So many people in this world don’t even have a mother. Why can’t you be grateful that yours is still around!”
“That has nothing to do with it. I am grateful I have you, but I also need the freedom to live my own life.” Piper’s back is tense.
“Why wouldn’t you want me in it?” Roxy snaps.
I’m no psychologist, but this conversation sounds like some hardcore manipulation. Suddenly, I feel uncomfortable intruding on a personal family matter. I quietly head into the bedroom, grab my laptop, and start working, pushing aside everything I’ve heard. Maybe if I distract myself from what I was eavesdropping on, I can also ward off the strong territorial urges to come to her defense.
I’m not alone long when I hear her enter the villa, followed by quick footsteps and a hard close of the bathroom door. I immediately jump off the bed and sprint to the bathroom to make sure she’s okay. Standing in front of the closed door, I hear the sounds of the bathtub filling up. Tapping my fingers on the handle, I slowly twist, and to my surprise, the door is unlocked.
Before adding force to open it, I second-guess my actions. Am I crossing a line? Fuck it, I don’t care. There’s nothing private between us anymore. I slowly open the door as she turns off the faucet. “Are you alright?” I take a few cautious steps toward her.
Her glistening skin peeks out from beneath a mountain range of translucent bubbles. She rests her chin on her knees, and her legs are pulled up to her chest. Piper’s hair is tied into a loose bun on her head.
“I’m fine. I don’t want to talk about it.” She doesn’t look my way when she speaks and instead keeps her face concealed.
I’ve become a perpetual invader of her privacy. “I heard the conversation you were having with your mother outside. I’m sorry for eavesdropping, but I couldn’t help it. You looked upset.”
She squeezes her eyes shut. “How much did you hear?”
“Not a whole lot. Just enough to realize that it didn’t sound healthy,” I say, maintaining a low voice as if not to scare her off. I want her to open up to me because she has already seen me at my most vulnerable. Hell, our current situation is because of my flaws in who I am.
“Like I’ve told you, my relationship with my mother is complicated,” she alludes, trying to dismiss me.
Looking down at Piper in the heart-shaped bathtub, she looks so small and defeated. I had no idea the depths of emotional manipulation that had been inflicted on her by her mother. I thought it was strange when I heard Piper call her mom by her first name. After the story Piper shared about her grandmother’s necklace, it should have been a red flag that something was wrong.
“I’m sure that it is. No one’s relationship with their parents is perfect. We all have our own level of toxicity.”
“You don’t understand because you grew up with caring, present parents. Your mom only wants the best for you,” her voice cracks and sounds weak. “She’s supportive and kind.”
“I wish I knew how to help you.” I lean against the counter, crossing my ankles. “I hate seeing you like this.”
“I appreciate it, I do, but this is none of your concern. You’re not my boyfriend. We’re not really dating,” she hisses.
That fucking stings.
“I am your husband,” I counter.
Piper has given me support and let me be vulnerable around her. She’s cared for me unconditionally and without judgment. I don’t want to push her to talk about it, but if I don’t, then who will?
She scoffs at me. “We both know that means absolutely nothing. This is a business deal, remember? You’re paying me to help you, not the other way around. I’m fine, and I can handle it.”
That one stings too.
It sure feels like her compassion toward me is real. I know it is. She’s upset and pushing me away, but I’m not letting that happen. But I am growing frustrated with her stubbornness.
“Fine. If that’s what you want.” I turn on my heels and head for the door with the intention of leaving her in here by herself. But then, I hear little sniffles as she starts to cry. Even the sad noises Piper makes have a way with me. I rub my lips together and decide against walking away.
I peer back over to the tub, and her face is soaked—but I can’t tell if it’s wet from the water or the tears that are now streaming down her face. My heart aches to see her reduced to this, and I can’t take it anymore.
I aggressively pull off my socks, shoes, shirt, and pants, throwing them into a pile on the floor at my feet. I step into the warm, sudsy water while her puffy face looks up at me with confusion. I lower myself to the opposite end of the jacuzzi tub and rest my legs on either side of her body.
“Hold me, Jack,” Piper says, her voice sounding desperate and small. It’s almost like she’s begging me to take it all away.
I drop my entire world, thoughts, and self-existence to clutch her tightly in my arms. She molds into me, and her muscles relax.
“It’s okay, my love,” I whisper into the soft skin of her temple. With my arms firmly wrapped around her, she releases and shakes with sobs. “Having to support your parent financially and emotionally at a young age is something no one should have to deal with.”
She lets out a delicate sigh, shrinking her body further into me and the bubbles. “How do you know that?”
“I’m not completely oblivious. I’ve picked up on things.”
Her gaze falls to the water, avoiding eye contact with me. “I’ve been trying to keep that part of my life private. I always have—out of fear that people will think differently of me or that somehow it makes me less lovable or worth anything. It was hard enough telling you about the necklace.”
Piper’s words shatter my heart. She is anything but unlovable, especially to me.
I lift her chin, rubbing my thumb over her smooth skin. “You are not unlovable. You are worth everything in this life. Anything you want can be yours.”
Her eyes narrow, and she kisses me.
I kiss her back softly and run my fingertips over the slick skin of her arm. “Tell me about Roxy and your childhood,” I say, hoping she opens up.
“What do you want to know?” she asks, lowering her lips on my shoulders.
“I’m sitting here naked in the bathtub with you, with absolutely no place to go, so whatever you’d like to share. However, once the water gets cold, you’re on your own.”
“That’s fair enough.” She smiles, then sniffs. “Roxy is not like normal people. My dad was thirty years older than her and married when she got pregnant with me. He refused to acknowledge my existence, and the last thing I’d heard about him was that he’d passed away when I was a teenager.”
I push a loose strand of wet hair from her sticky cheek. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what that must have been like growing up and knowing that.”
“Tell me about it. I was confused for so long why my dad never wanted me and my mom, but then I realized that he’d already had a family. He didn’t need another one.”
“My dad had an affair once when I was nine. I can’t say if that caused the irreversible rift between us, but it was around that time that our relationship started to deteriorate. My mother forgave him, but I don’t think I ever did,” I admit. I do believe that’s where our rift started. Saying that out loud makes it real all over again. She loved my father and eventually forgave him for his actions, but no one ever knew.
“I’m sorry that happened. I’m sure you were extremely protective over her,” she says.
“Yeah, I was, but I think every child is protective over their parents. We’re all born with this innate belief that we should feel accountable for our parents’ actions and well-being. And I believe that outcome has everything to do with how our parents interpret those emotions.”
She glides her fingertips over the slickness of her wet knees. “Some parents love and appreciate their child’s devotion—others, like Roxy, take full advantage of it.”
“I know, but none of that is your fault,” I assure her, staring deep into her beautiful hazel-green eyes.
Later that night, I lie on my side with one arm propping up my head. Piper is on her stomach with both hands tucked under her pillow while her head faces mine. The hammering sound of the sudden downpour of rain drowns out every single thought in my mind but those of Piper. With my free hand, I graze my fingertips along the velvety skin of her back. Every so often, she’ll break out in goosebumps, and I can’t stop the smile that pulls at the corners of my mouth, knowing that my touch elicits that reaction from her.
“I thought about going no contact with Roxy,” she says as if picking up in the middle of our previous conversation.
Wow. How sad that must be for her to contemplate cutting off all communication with her mother.
“You know how society tells us that we must endure the way our parents treat us, simply because they’re our parents?” she continues, keeping her voice at a level barely above the pelting rain outside our patio doors.
“Yes. It’s a mind fuck, that’s for sure.”
She raises her lashes at me before speaking again, “People say things like, but it’s your mom, or you only get one mom—never asking what she could have possibly done or how she treated you to push you to the extreme where you have decided that no contact was the best solution.”
I clench my jaw, frustrated that no one was there to protect her all these years. She’s been alone, having to navigate through all this confusion. “Not everyone is exposed to abuse from their parents. And I don’t mean physical abuse like what is mostly associated with that term—I mean emotional and verbal abuse.”
“Exactly. I get hit with a wave of guilt, even thinking that my mother has abused me. She put a roof over my head, she kept me from harm’s way, she fed me, but I know children need more than that,” Piper adds, chewing on the side of her cheek. It looks like she’s fighting back tears. “They need love, compassion, security, an emotional safe space. I was denied those things growing up and into my adulthood.”
I move the hand that was gliding across her back to her face. “The responsibility of the relationship should not be solely placed on the adult child. The way Roxy treated you growing up and the things that were denied to you were not your fault, and once you find that belief within yourself, you’ll be free of the guilt and burden resting on your shoulders.”
“Why is it so hard? I mean, my brain knows that, but my emotions are wired in a completely different way,” she counters.
I roll onto my back and rest my arms beneath my head. “I don’t know why. But I do know that I don’t subscribe to that belief.” Then I turn to meet her eyes. “I’m sure that however you react, it has been much deserved. Because you are kind, beautiful, caring, warm, and compassionate.” Her face flashes me a smile, but the heaviness in her eyes tells a different story. Piper’s conditioning has led her to believe she is responsible for her mother’s well-being. “Let’s not talk about it anymore today, okay?”
“I’d rather not. But I would like to talk about what you’ll feed me for dinner.”
“Why am I not surprised you’re hungry again?” With a wide grin, I link my fingers with hers. “Anything you want.”
My heart is racing as adrenaline pumps through my veins. I might be overstepping, but I can’t deny my overwhelming desire to step in on Piper’s behalf. She is everything, and it’s hard for me to imagine that her mother wouldn’t be able to see that as well. The things that Piper shared with me in bed last night continued to gnaw at my insides even into the early morning hours.
By the time the sun rose this morning, I convinced myself that I needed to take the bold step to reach out to Roxy. Maybe help their relationship in some way or at least understand better so that I can be the support that Piper needs.
With Piper still asleep in the bedroom, I slip out the backdoor onto the patio. Then, when I’m confident that the door is securely latched behind me, I take out my phone and type in Roxy’s number, which I found in Piper’s phone last night.
To my surprise, Roxy answers after the first ring. And before I could finish my introduction, she cuts me off.
“Oh, so you’re Jack. How does it feel keeping my daughter away from me?” she snaps.
Okay, damn. This is how we’re going to start—right out of the gate, and she’s already at a ten. No shame, no pleasantries.
“It’s nice to meet you too,” I keep my voice level. “I wanted to give you a call to get to know you. And to tell you what an incredible person your daughter is. She’s been—”
Roxy cuts me off once again. “I couldn’t care less about all the wonderful things you want to say about Piper. None of it matters to me. Now, what can I do for you?”
What type of person speaks that way about their child? Her energy and her approach have me completely taken aback. Not only to me but regarding her daughter too. For all she knows, Piper and I could be dating for real.
My eyebrows snap together, and suddenly, I feel protective over her. “To be honest, I’ve overheard some of the conversations you’ve had with Piper over the last few weeks, and they have upset her, so I thought I’d take the opportunity to introduce myself to you for you to get to know me.” I clear my throat. “Thought that might alleviate some of your concerns about Piper not calling or being around as much.”
“It’s cute that you think you’re trying to help. Well, news fucking flash to you, Jack—whatever your last name is, I will always come first because I’m the only one who can love her. Whether it’s you that leaves or her—she’ll always come crawling back to her mother.” I hear the smugness in the tone of her voice.
What the fuck? I’m not prepared to have this sort of conversation with her. From what I know, I knew it would be slightly tense but not quite this contentious.
“With all due respect, Roxy, Piper and I are dating, and I intended to help you get off her back,” I grit out, wrangling in my growing irritation.
“I don’t know what you think you have with her, but Piper doesn’t have long-term relationships. She dates, then gets tired of whoever she’s with and leaves. Just like I taught her. As I said, trying to step in on her behalf is very chivalrous of you, but you’re making a fool of yourself.”
I clench my jaw. “For your fucking information, Piper is not just anyone, she is your daughter, and I’m not going to let you treat her the way you have been. Think about how that makes her feel when you, her mother, speak to her the way you do.”
“What makes you think that you’re more special than any other guy she’s been with?” She scoffs. “And what about how I feel? Her job is to support me and pay me back for everything I did for her when she was growing up.” She chuckles with a sharp, high-pitched sound that alerts every territorial nerve in my body.
“Let me educate you. If it’s money that you want? I have plenty of it now. I suggest you cut your shitty attitude, or you won’t be seeing a dime from her ever again.” An empty threat that I have no idea how I’ll follow through on since I have no influence on her. But now, I have only my gut instinct to go on.
“You have money?” Her voice has changed drastically, reflecting a more timid tone. Is that what this is about? Is that all she wants? Does she not care about her daughter?
I pace back and forth on the small strip of grass by the pool while my heart squeezes with this realization that Roxy only cares about herself—and money. An idea starts to form in my head. I’m not proud of it, but one that forms from a raw impulse to protect my wife.
Squaring my shoulders, I take a seat on the patio chair. “Okay, Roxy. Let’s have a conversation about money.”