The Stranger Behind My Orgasm

Abigail

"Hi, sweetheart," I called, glancing up at her. She stepped away from the door and retreated back into the room but left the door open.

I pushed the door open gently. Angel sat on the edge of her bed, her knees drawn up to her chest. Her eyes were red and glistening with unshed tears. She had clearly been crying for a while.

The room was another story entirely. Angel had always been neat, almost obsessively so, like her dad.

Her books were usually lined up perfectly on the shelf by genre and color, but tonight several books were scattered across the floor.

There was a worn notebook with doodles of spaceships and dragons on the cover, and a half-finished sketchbook open to a drawing of a girl with wings flying away from a castle.

Her suitcase was open, with clothes spilling out of it. Was she trying to pack? It looked like she had torn the room apart.

There was a small stuffed bear that she clutched against her legs. Something was very wrong. Demanding what was wrong wasn’t going to get me anywhere.

I had been fourteen once. I knew how irritating it was to be pressed to open up.

So I walked into the room, my feet brushing over the floor as I started picking up the books, placing them back on the shelf.

Angel glanced up at me, her voice small. "There’s no need. I’ll pack it up later."

"It’s fine," I said softly, continuing to tidy the room. "We can clean it up together. Do you want the books arranged in ascending or descending order?"

Her green eyes flickered warily. She tightened her grip around the teddy bear before dropping it on the pillow and sliding out of bed.

We cleaned up the floor of the room, then I moved to her bed, gathering the clothes and folding them while watching her from the corner of my eye.

My forehead creased with a frown when I noticed her hands shake as she picked up a fallen pen from the floor.

I moved closer and wrapped my arms around her. She stiffened at first, then pushed me away gently.

"I’m fine," she muttered. "I’ll be fine. Let’s just finish cleaning."

"Okay,"

We continued cleaning up in silence for a little longer. As I folded the strewn clothes into the suitcase, I spotted a tiny blue blanket and held it up. The edges were frayed, and it looked really old.

"What’s this?"

Her eyes flickered. "Dad got me that blanket the day I was born. I used to carry it everywhere when I was little. Even now I still do. It’s..."

Her eyes filled with fresh tears. She burst into sobs, shoulders shaking. I dropped the blanket and rushed to her, pulling her into my arms and guiding her to sit on the bed with me. I held her tight, rocking her gently as she cried into my shoulder.

"What happened?" I whispered, stroking her hair. "You can always talk to me. Remember? We love you. No matter what."

It took her a while to speak. She hiccuped, sniffling, words coming out in broken fragments. "Mom... she said... she said I might not be Dad’s daughter. That I’m Devin’s. That I’m the daughter of the man who’s been hurting Dad all this time."

The words hit me like cold water. What the fuck was wrong with Victoria? Why on earth would a mother say that to her own child?

It was so cruel, so... so callous. For fuck’s sake, every single time I tried to think she had to have an ounce of goodness inside her, she just proved she was nothing but a cruel witch.

Angel continued talking.

"What if it’s true? What if I’m not Dad’s? What if I’m the daughter of the person who’s made his life miserable? Mom was awful to him. Devin is awful. What if I’m just like them? What if I’m awful, Abigail? What if Dad finds out and... and doesn’t want me anymore?"

She cried harder, pushing her face into my shoulder. "I don’t want to be his. I just want my dad."

My heart broke for her. I held her tighter, rocking her in my arms. "Angel, listen to me. No matter what Victoria said, you are Finnegan’s daughter. In every single way that matters, okay? He raised you."

"He loved you from the moment you were born. Families aren’t only built on blood, honey, they are built on love too, and your dad loves you more than anything in this world. Nothing, nothing is going to change that."

She sniffled, pulling back slightly, her eyes red and puffy. "But what if...?"

"There is no what if that changes how much he loves you," I stated firmly, wiping her tears with my thumb.

"You are his heart, his princess. He would move mountains for you. And I’m here too. We’re in this together. But he is right, you know? You need to talk to a therapist. Your dad is right about that. It’s not a weakness, Angel. It’ll help you feel better."

She pressed her lips together, thinking about it before nodding. "I’ll go... but only if you come with me. At least the first time."

I smiled, kissing her forehead. "Of course I will. Always."

We sat there for a while and then decided to unpack the suitcase and watch some cat videos on her tablet.

I might have to talk to Finnegan about getting her a cat, since she seemed to like them so much.

When I left her room an hour later, I leaned against the door for a second, my heart aching for her and Finnegan. They really had the worst women in the world around them.

But not anymore. If I had to break some evil Wolfe curse to make sure Angel never doubted that she was loved, I would do that in a heartbeat.

I was going to have a long, hard talk with that crazy bitch Victoria.