Chapter 10 - The Desperate Bargain
A suffocating silence descended upon the living room.
Shay looked from the papers on the table to her father’s broken, trembling posture. For the first time in her life, the protective shield Darcy had built around her shattered completely. She saw him not as the all-powerful patriarch who could fix anything with a smile and an excuse, but as a small, fraudulent man who had run out of road.
"Dad..." Shay cried out, grabbing his arm. "Tell her it's not true! Tell her you didn't do that! Just give her back the money! We have the thirty-five thousand, right? We can use that to pay my tuition and get an apartment!"
"Shay, shut up!" Darcy hissed, violently shaking off her arm.
"No! I won't shut up!" she screamed, the hysteria taking over completely. "You told me she would never find out! You told me she was so stupid and wrapped around your finger that she wouldn't even notice thirty-five thousand dollars! You promised me!"
I stood there, listening to her words. The final confirmation of their long-standing disrespect didn't even sting anymore. It merely validated every single action I had taken over the last seventy-two hours.
They hadn't just taken advantage of me; they had laughed at me behind closed doors while living under my roof.
Suddenly, Shay turned toward me. She dropped down from the loveseat onto her knees, crawling across the Turkish rug until she was right at my feet.
"Claire... please," she sobbed, reaching out toward the hem of my slacks. I took a step back, refusing to let her touch me. "Please! I'm sorry! I am so, so sorry for what I said at dinner! You are family! You're the best mother I've ever had! I was stupid, I was showing off, I was stressed! Please don't take away my degree! If I don't pay the school by Friday, they're kicking me out! I won't have a degree, I won't have a job, I have nowhere to go!"
Her tears flowed freely, washing streaks through the mascara on her cheeks. It was an Oscar-worthy performance of total contrition.
Two days ago, I might have felt a pang of sympathy. Two days ago, I might have believed that a scared young girl had learned a hard life lesson.
But I looked down at her and saw only the calculated desperation of a parasite realizing its host had developed an immunity.
"Stand up, Shay," I said quietly.
"Please, Claire!" she begged, clasping her hands together. "Just let me keep the car, and just pay this last semester! I swear I'll never ask for another penny! I'll do whatever you want! I'll clean the house, I'll cook, I'll apologize to your mother on my knees!"
"I don't want your apologies, Shay," I said, my voice completely dead of emotion. "And I certainly don't want you on your knees. What I wanted was basic human decency, and you couldn't even manage that when you were swimming in my money. You don't get to pretend I am family only when the bill comes due."
Shay's desperate pleading abruptly stopped.
She looked up at me, seeing the immovable granite in my eyes. Slowly, the theatrical tears dried up, and the mask of contrition slipped away entirely, revealing the pure, unadulterated venom underneath.
She stood up, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her oversized hoodie.
"You're a bitter, pathetic old woman," Shay spat, her face contorting with rage. "You bought my dad because nobody else wanted you. You bought me because you couldn't have your own kids. You think you're better than us because of your money? You're nothing! You’re just a lonely accountant who’s going to die in this big, empty house with nobody who gives a damn about you!"
"Perhaps," I said calmly. "But tonight, I am a lonely accountant who owns this house, owns that car, and holds the keys to your father's freedom. Darcy, the pen is on the table. You have five minutes to sign, or I call Anton."
May you like
Darcy looked at his daughter, then looked at the divorce papers. With shaking, trembling fingers, he reached out, picked up the black ballpoint pen, and pressed the nib against the signature line of page twelve.
---
