Chapter 33 Melanie #2
Ya, that me and Nick got married so I wouldn’t have to ask you for help since I was diagnosed with diabetes and I rather have died than ask Richaerd for money.
“Yes, no. I mean, there’s a lot that I haven’t told you and that we need to catch up on.”
“Okay, how about we do that over some shopping, huh?” She smiles brightly at me.
“And then we can get our nails done, because this is unacceptable, young lady.” She holds my hands up. “You’ve never looked so plain.”
I snatched my hand away. “Mom, I don't want to get my nails done. I want you to tell me why you need me to come back home. I know you, just like you know me.”
“I just miss you, sweetie.” She says, grabbing my hands again. But I don’t reciprocate the warm gesture. “That’s it?” I deadpan.
Her smile slowly fades and she says, “No, remember when your father.”
“Step. Stepfather.” I remind her
“Okay, remember when I called you because I had no idea what was going on with Richard and why I was being questioned?”’
“Ya,” I say, elongating the vowels.
“Turns out a bunch of women are trying to sue him now. Claiming that he promised them fame after sleeping with him, and some of them are claiming he coerced them into sex and raped some of them.”
My whole body stiffens. Could this be his karma? Is it finally happening?
“And you don’t believe them?”
She places a hand on her hip, “Honey, please. Richard? He didn’t even want to try role-playing when I mentioned it. He’s the most vanilla guy when it comes to sex.”
My stomach twists into knots, and I have to physically force myself not to wince from the pain. She has no clue, does she? This man was a sexual predator.
“I know that’s TMI, but it’s true. And this stuff happens to men who have money all the time.
Women are Jezebels. They claim rape and who knows if it’s true or not.
I know in this industry, many women are willing to give it up for free if it lands them a role in a movie. So no, I don’t believe them.”
A sinking feeling dropped low in my chest, and I had to tell myself to blink because the shock would be too apparent on my face if I didn’t. She would never believe me if I told her, would she?
Richard is a monster, but she would take his side.
In her eyes, he’s this perfect husband and father who makes her believe she’s his everything. That he only loves her. That he adores her. It was all bullshit and it made me sick to my core.
“If it’s so hard to prove, then you should have nothing to worry about. Right?”
“Well, he’s got all these charges against him, so he may have to go to court, and we were hoping you would testify.”
“Me?”
“Yes, because once they hear you and I say how wonderful of a man he has been over your real dad, since he left us high and dry, then charges will be dropped, and case closed.”
Bile rose up my esophagus, and I had to swallow hard to keep it down.
“I mean, he’s been such a great man, Mealnie, he’s even stayed with me through my horrible alcohol addiction, remember? I know I wasn't the best mom during all that, but that’s why I try and make it up to you any chance I get, sweetie.” She brushes the side of my cheek with her hand.
“Richard is a good man. He tells me how much he loves us all the time and he’s helped you and I in so many ways, so it’s our turn to return the favor.”
I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry, I wanted to hit something.
I didn’t know what to say. I just can’t believe this is my life.
How do I say, no. Can I say no? Hell no, I won’t help the guy who took my innocence away.
Who took everything from me? Who made me believe he was doing everything he did, because he loved me?
“C’mon, sweetie, there was a time you looked up to Richard and wanted to be just like him.”
She’s right. I did, but that was before he wrecked me and took my consent away.
I did love Richard. In the beginning he treated my mom and I like queens.
Gave me everything I never had. A beautiful home, a fairytale bedroom.
Clothes, vacations, cars, anything I wanted.
He even took me with him to help him decide on movie sets.
For years, he did what I know now is called grooming. He groomed me into thinking he was so in love with my mom, and I would never do anything to get in between their fairytale happiness, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.
“He’s been in our lives since you were a young girl and watched you grow up into this beautiful, talented woman.” still rubbing at my cheek my mind flashes back to when I was thirteen years old.
I woke up to the sound of a door knocking.
“Mel, it’s time to get up. Olga is sick, so I’m taking you to school.”
When I looked down, there was a pile of blood, and I gasped. My stepdad must have heard me because he flings the door open, and the first words out of his mouth were. “Did you sneak a boy in here?”
“What no?”
The muscles in his face relax, and he lightens his grip on my doorknob.
Then this must be your period. Your mother told me that may happen while she is in Ireland filming her new movie.
“I’ll grab you a tampon and show you how to use one.” He walks over to my bathroom, and before I have time to process what’s even happening, he grabs my hand and instructs me to pull my pants down.
“Can’t I just use a pad? I thought Olga said she bought some for me.”
“Do you want to be made fun of? Pads leak through clothes. And you have ballet practice after so you’ll be moving around a lot. You’ll want a tampon. Now pull your pants down.”
Memories of when I was eight come flashing back to me. I feel my body getting warmer and the sweat starting to form on my forehead.
“Mel, are you okay?”
“I-I-” I stutter, not able to form words.
He bends down on one knee and takes my hand. “I’m doing this because I love you, sweetie. I want to help you. You don’t want to be the laughing stock at school now, do you?”
I shake my head slowly. Silently wishing my mother was here or Olga.
“Okay, good. Now, c’mon, we need to get dressed soon.”
I pull my pants down, and he swallows hard.
“Your pussy is beautiful like your mother's.” He says barely above a whisper.
I flinched at his words. What the fuck? I know he loves my mom, but did he really have to say that?
“Okay,” he says as he unwraps the tampon, “now all you have to do is glide this up inside you and make sure the string is hanging down still. So don’t shove it up too far, besides that may hurt because you're very tight.”
His gaze doesn’t waver away from my privates and I am beginning to feel uncomfortable.
God, why couldn’t Olga be here? Please. My mother is always gone but seriously, the day I got my period Olga had to be sick.
“Okay, I think I can manage from here.”
“I love you, sweetie. I want to make sure you don’t hurt yourself. So just put it in so I can help you.”
I take the tampon out of his hands, and it’s when he finally meets my gaze, but I quickly tear mine from his.
“Okay, now put it inside.”
I don’t look up and just focus on the task at hand but I feel his gaze burning through me and I hate every second of it.
Once I'm done, I quickly pull my panties up around my waist.
“There. All done.”
“Good job sweetie, now you know what it feels like to be a woman.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket, cutting through the thick, suffocating tension like a jagged blade.
“Melanie, you okay? Did you hear a word I said?”
Another buzz. Then another. Each ping feels like a warning shot straight to my chest.
“Give me a minute, Mom.” My voice comes out tighter than I want, brittle around the edges. I don’t wait for her response—I just need out. Air. Space. Anything.
I bolt down the stairs, each step heavier than the last. My fingers fumble in my pocket until I finally pull my phone free, afraid and already bracing for the worst.
I’m headed into the restaurant. Don’t worry about coming in tonight.
Spend some time with your mom. It’s probably best we’re not around each other right now.
Since I’m trash, I guess you think it’s okay to lie to me.
The words hit me like a punch straight to the gut. My stomach lurches. The air is sucked from my lungs as if I’ve been knocked underwater without warning. I grip the banister, suddenly unsteady, like the whole house has tilted sideways.
Heat rushes to my face, then drains just as fast, leaving me cold. So cold.
Not just physically, but bone-deep. The kind of cold that comes from shame and guilt and the sickening realization that maybe I just broke the only real thing I had.
Trash. Lie.
I feel hollowed out. Like everything inside me just emptied through the floor.
Alone. So fucking alone.