Page 26 of Overdosed: Her Dark Side
She put so little faith in me while giving it all to others. To him, her ex-boyfriend, who she knew damn well turned against me, his friend, to get in her head. I couldn’t believe she was so blind, so oblivious to their schemes, that she didn’t see all this. I got that she could doubt me after learning the truth about my initial intentions toward her, but blindly following Callan without giving me a chance to explain was beyond my comprehension. It was too much. “You know what? Just forget it,” I hissed. “No explanations from your mouth will make any sense. I’ll never understand how you could’ve believed him!”
I stepped forward, looming inches away. I ran my hand through my hair, attempting to rein in my anger but failing miserably. “Melanie, if you had told me you were pregnant, I would’ve been the happiest man alive. Didn’t you see how insanely in love with you I was?” I implored, my gaze flickering between hers. “I would’ve done anything for you. Anything.” I squeezed my pulsing temples as I turned momentarily, struggling to contain my wrath. “And you, in return, chose to believe everyone but me. On top of that, you kept my daughter a secret! Fuck!” I spat, banging my clenched fist against a wall.
She stood there, her eyes filled with tears, lips trembling. And I… I needed to let it all out.
“I couldn’t forgive myself that I hadn’t told you about that damn revenge, that I even agreed to it in the first place. I kept searching for you like a fool for those three years! And when you’re back, you throw in my face that you’re my brother’s fiancée and having fun with him while I, like a fool, still love you!” My voice broke, and I saw regret wash over Melanie’s face. She seemed genuinely surprised by my words, which pained me even more as it only proved to me that she thought I was ready to harm her and the baby. That getting her pregnant was a part of my twisted revenge.
“Shane…” she began, but I cut her off, my despair and wrath taking over.
“No. Do whatever you want with whomever you want. But you have no right to keep my baby away from me,” I shrieked, my tone warning while looming over her again. “You ruined your life, my life, and our daughter’s life at your own damn request! You took three years of her life away from me already. I will not let you keep her away from her father, not for one more day! I’m filing for custody tomorrow,” I hissed with a level of anger that frightened even me. I never thought I could harbor such resentment towards her, but she was no longer the fragile rose I once knew. She had revealed a dark side that even I didn’t know existed. Then, it hit me. Melanie had married Callan. Fuck. I closed my eyes, squeezing my temples.
“What last name does she have?” I asked with a dark tone, hoping not to receive the answer I had already suspected.
Melanie did not respond. She simply stared at me, sobbing and shaking her head.
“I’m asking what last name my daughter has?” I repeated, glaring into her eyes with towering wrath.
Melanie’s voice cracked as she admitted, “Sinclair.”
My heart sank. Darkness enveloped me, a dangerous, deadly fury consuming every fiber of my being. Fuming, teeth gritted, hands clenched into fists, I had never felt such intense anger, pain, and sadness all at once, rushing through me with equal force. “I’ll take care of that, too. My daughter won’t have another man’s last name for even one more day,” I hissed through my gritted teeth, struggling to breathe as if I was suffocating. “I’ll never forgive you,” I uttered quietly, my tone of anger and pain. My gaze flicked back and forth between hers. “First, Callan wanted to steal my life, even my family, and you allowed it. Now, Anders is doing the same, and what do you do? You let him,” I erupted with resentment, which caused Melanie to sob harder. “You want to play these wicked games? Fine. But involving our daughter in this... That was a dirty trick for you to pull, wasn’t it?” I shot her a menacing glare.
“Shane, please, let me explain,” she pleaded, reaching for my arm, but I swiftly and instinctively pulled away from her touch.
“You never gave me a chance to explain.” My voice was barely above a whisper now. “I’ll come back in the morning to meet my daughter. And for fuck’s sake, please don’t try to come up with some shitty excuses to stop me.”
I sped down the road, driving ahead in an unknown direction, my vision blurred. Gripping the steering wheel tightly, I hoped the pressure might somehow alleviate the pain and anger swelling within me. My muscles tensed, my jaw clenched. I fought to suppress the tears threatening to escape. My mind immediately created pictures of Melanie pregnant with our child. The tender moments of touching her belly, sharing kisses, and feeling the baby’s kicks. All the scenes of us together during childbirth, then returning home as a complete family.
All gone now.
“Damn it!” I smashed my fist on the steering wheel. I felt like my life was slipping out of my hands like grains of sand, and I could do nothing to catch it. They stole it from me. From us. I didn’t know who I hated more or who I blamed more. Callan, Anders, Melanie, or perhaps myself.
I found myself at the graveyard, not even sure how I got there, standing before my mother’s grave. Moonlight illuminated her name engraved on the stone. Though the chilly wind wrapped around me, I was burning inside. Burning in pain, burning in rage.
“I have a daughter, Mom,” I whispered, crouching down to touch the cold stone, seeking a connection with the mother I had long lost.
“She’s as beautiful as her mother. They’re two peas in a pod.” A faint smile crossed my face as I recalled Hope’s features. Then, reality crashed back, flooding my heart with pain once again. “You know what hurts?” I wiped away a tear that reached my mouth, my voice hushed. “Tonight, when she got scared, he went to her. My brother. He tucks her into bed at night, not me. He gets to see her smiling eyes as they play, and I don’t. She probably loves him, but she still doesn’t love me... and I don’t even know if she’s going to love me one day.”
Quivering, I struggled to stay upright. I took a deep breath and ran my hands across my face, closing my eyes and inhaling the crisp, chilly air deeply.
Give me strength, Mom. Help me get through all of this. I’m begging you.
The remnants of that night drifted by in sleeplessness. My mind was incessantly weaving elusive scenarios of what I could have had with Melanie. I kept replaying my past, analyzing my choices, mistakes, and everything that led me to this point while contemplating the future. What it would look like now, what to do or how to act, and what I truly desired.
I took a cold shower to clear my restless thoughts, hoping it would replace the sleep I lacked. I put on a thin black sweater, and light pants, and draped a matching-colored sweater over my shoulders. I decided to skip the formal suits or blazers I usually wore. It was the first time I was supposed to meet my daughter and I wanted to seem… warm. If that was even possible.
I glanced at my reflection in the mirror, I noticed a subtle shift in me. It wasn’t just the rugged, dark stubble that had grown over the past few days or the styling of my hair to the side. I was a father now. I felt like I had to make sure I was worthy of that title. I was now responsible for another human being.
I stood at Anders’ door, gently knocking. I felt anxious to meet my daughter. All the way here, I imagined possible scenarios of what to say, how she would react, and how the meeting could possibly go.
“What do you want?” Anders’ harsh voice jolted me from my reverie as he grumbled, swinging the door open and leaning against the frame. His eyes were puffy, and it was clear he hadn’t gotten much sleep that night either.
“I came to see my daughter. Melanie knows I was supposed to come,” I stated sternly.
Anders scoffed, taking a swig from a bottle of whiskey. “So, she hasn’t run to your arms after all?” I wasn’t sure if the remark was meant for me or himself. He was numb and intoxicated, plain drunk, which concerned me.
“Where’s Melanie?” I was getting impatient.
“She moved out.” The news hit me hard. She couldn’t do that to me, not again. “She fucking left,” he blurted with pain in his voice, and judging by his state, I was ready to believe it genuinely hurt him.
