Chapter 25 #2
Maybe some form of fate was at play. Perhaps karma watched over her that night, waiting for her choice that would decide the rest of her doomed fate.
Was it the moment she accepted an alcoholic drink even though she was pregnant?
I wasn’t thinking. I was still getting used to not being allowed to do things.
I had only recently decided to go through with the pregnancy…
I completely spaced it until it was too late.
She shivered beneath her blanket, remembering how relaxed she had been when she took that first sip, Russell sitting across from her with that satisfied grin on his face.
Sarah thought it was because he was proud to be having another child. The man was obsessed with his legacy and his gene pool. Even if he wouldn’t marry Sarah or acknowledge the child legally, wouldn’t he at least be proud that he had managed to “do that?”
I should have known. I should have fucking known!
At around three in the morning, she began to cry into the back of her couch, her muffled sobs so wet and demanding that she once again couldn’t breathe.
This was her punishment, wasn’t it? She let her child die. She was why she had been in so much pain that she retreated into herself, halved herself, and lived a life of needless depravity, as if she had every damned right to do so.
She should have known.
Nobody was allowed to get away with this for long.
At some point, fate would come for her. Hunt her down.
Plaster her across the world for everyone to see and judge.
Would it have hurt as much if Luca hadn’t gone down with her in the process?
This woman who claimed to love her so much that she would stick by her side even during this scandal?
Luca needed to walk away! She needed to think of her son and stay far away from… this!
How could it even be a choice? If her jealous ex-wife presented either her son or Sarah… she always should take her son!
That’s what Sarah would have done.
That was the right thing to do.
That’s what fate, what karma wanted her to do, because she hadn’t thought of her child before it was too late.
She didn’t mean to awaken half the household, but Nigel was the only one who came out of his room and sat with her on the couch, his eyes glued to the TV while one hand remained on his sister’s shuddering shoulder.
“I’m not doing so hot today.”
“What’s wrong? Do you need me to come over?”
“No. I think I caught a bug because of how stressful things have been recently. Maybe I got it on our trip. I don’t want to get you sick, too.”
“Are you sure? I’ll have some things sent over.”
“That’s sweet. Thank you.”
“…I’m serious, Angel, if you need anything, tell me, okay? I love you.”
“I know you do. I’m sorry for putting you through all of this because of my carelessness.”
“Carelessness? How were you supposed to know that something like this would happen?”
“But because it’s happened, you might lose your custody case.”
“You let me worry about that, okay? The only thing I want you worrying about right now is how you’re holding up. Take care of yourself, Angel. Things are rough right now, but they’ll get better. I promise. I’ve got my PR person working overtime, taking down anything with your name and face in it.”
“I appreciate it, Lu. I’m hoping this will blow over soon.”
“It will. I promise.”
Sarah hung up, rolled over in her bed, and went back to crying. Not even speaking to her girlfriend helped her feel a bit better.
No matter how many times Sarah insisted she’d rather be alone, she couldn’t get away from well-meaning individuals.
Her mother smothered her. Nigel was like a shadow ready to block out somebody’s sun if it came down to it.
Luca? She was the worst one of all, and Sarah didn’t even live with her.
When she wasn’t calling her twice a day to make sure Sarah was all right, she was coming over, inviting Sarah over to hers so she could “get away from her family,” and sending her little gifts that were meant to cheer her up.
The more shit she received, however, the more upset Sarah became.
Ever since that day, her name and face exploded all over the internet, and Sarah began a descent into mental mayhem that made her want to carve her own brain out of her head.
When she wasn’t blaming herself for everything that happened in her life, she was swinging dangerously close to the other side of reason.
The side that told her to fully embrace the monster inside.
Angel, of course. She was the monster. Sarah had taken every bit of emotion left in her bones and shoved them into Angel.
She was the only one allowed to love, cry, need, want, and desire.
But because she lived so many extremes, she was also more likely to leave destruction in her wake.
Because when someone dealt with so many emotions like that at once?
They made poor choices. Choices that eventually caught up to a woman.
She could either double down as Sarah and feel nothing for the rest of her life. Or she could try to chip what she could from Angel and hope to feel normal again.
Before, I would have doubled down. After all, I have to be the one who gets through this shit alive when everyone else is dying around me. That’s what she told herself until her family finally went out to get some fresh air, leaving her behind in her quiet apartment.
Without her mother breathing over her shoulder, Sarah opened her closet and dug out the clothes she wore whenever she “became” Angel.
The wig. The sexy underwear. The slinky dresses and bombastic boots.
Her mother hadn’t come into the closet once during her stay.
If she had, Sarah would have heard all about these obvious choices in wardrobe – they were in that video, weren’t they?
Sarah held the blond wig in her hand and stared at the dress she had worn the night she met Luca.
You did that, Angel. You hooked us a woman who’s in love with me. Sarah would never be able to get rid of that dress, even if she never wore it again.
She’s the only woman who has seen both of these sides so intimately…
Sarah wanted to feel it. To feel the love Luca so desperately wanted from her in turn.
To love the woman who had done so much for her, she needed to embrace every emotion she had shoved into these boots and bras. That included desire.
And anger.
So. Much. Anger.
Sarah pulled her T-shirt and jeans off her body before reentering the walk-in closet. She passed the work pantsuits, the everyday street clothes, and even the outfit she wore the night she met Luca. The only thing she still held in her hand was the blond wig.
She adorned herself in all black. Boots. Garters. Underwear. Dress. Coat. She pulled the wig on her head, gingerly tucking her real hair beneath the cap. While she didn’t pull out her makeup, she still recognized the woman who was in that damned sex tape.
“You’re a no-good whore, aren’t you?” she asked the mirror in her closet. “Absolutely no shame.”
Sarah stepped out of the closet and opened a box on her vanity. Her more expensive jewelry lurked within. Diamond earrings. Tennis bracelet. A few heirlooms her mother gave her when she graduated from college.
A black-beaded bracelet that the woman at the funeral home had given her over a year ago.
“Just because you don’t have anything else from your baby doesn’t mean his soul isn’t out there somewhere.
These beads give mothers comfort.” Like rosary beads, Sarah supposed.
She had never been religious, but she had kept the beads.
Why not? The woman had been right. Sarah had nothing else from the child stolen from her.
She slipped it onto her wrist. Something glittered in the overhead light. When she held her wrist up to her face, she saw a flat, silver bead with the inscription God Gave All Angels Wings.
When she lowered her arm again, the anger finally claimed her. Anger she could not fly away from, no matter how many broken wings God gave this Angel.