The Good Wife

43



"Sloan! Sloan, baby, please listen to me." I fall onto my knees, tears spilling as Sloan rolls her eyes at me.

"I don't want to see you right now, Pariston! Get out of my sight," she screams, looking away. 

"Sloan, I love you so much. Don't do this to me, please. You and Ayvah mean the world to me," Grabbing her hand, I press my tear-stained face against her hand, seeking solace in her touch. 

Sobs escape my lips in unbridled waves, my body shaking with each desperate breath. She snatches her hand away from my grasp, her face contorts with frustration as she forcefully wipes her hand against her skirt. 

I recoil, stung by the rejection, "I love you, Sloan," I whisper. 

"And yet that didn't stop you from fucking my sister," she screams, glaring at me. 

"That marriage was a curse, Sloan. We were both trapped in it. Amber has told you the truth, hasn't she?" 

She sighs, closing her eyes, "I don't think I can forgive you so easily, Pariston." 

"Sloan, I have loved you loyally for all these years. Don't doubt my love like that. Whatever it was with Amber or any other girl, it was purely physical." I cry, but she doesn't turn to me. 

With a heavy heart, I take a step back, creating some physical distance between us. As I take a deep breath, attempting to steady my racing heart, I understand the necessity of this temporary separation.

We need time to process the complexities of our situation, to sort through the tangled web of emotions that have entwined us. 

I'm sure my sweet Sloan won't be upset for too long, she'll understand the situation I was in and will forgive me eventually. 

A knock on the door startles Sloan, as her parents step in with a tray of food. 

"Sloan, baby, we got you something to eat." Mrs. Bianchi says softly, placing the tray near Sloan. 

"I'm not hungry! Do you not understand simple language, mumma?" Sloan groans. 

"Just in case you change your mind, baby." Mrs. Bianchi caresses her hair.

Mr. Bianchi stares at me silently before he turns to Sloan, "Where were you all these years, baby?" 

Sloan looks at me before sighing, "I was with my lover, Jake. We were happy after escaping and everything was so beautiful. He made me feel so loved." 

Ouch. That stung like a bitch. 

"But then, I don't know what happened, he just lost all his money in a stupid investment. I had to work as a stupid maid to pay rent and Ayvah had to drop out of school because we couldn't pay fees. It was horrible! Then. . ." she trails off, looking at Mr. Bianchi with teary eyes. 

"Don't be scared, baby." Mrs. Bianchi whispers. 

"Uncle Jace found us. He took me and Ayvah in," Her voice trembles, barely audible, as she mumbles through her tears.

"He helped me dump Jake. And he was the one who convinced me to come back home, otherwise, I was too embarrassed to even show my face here ever again." Slaon breaks down crying, hiding her face with her hands. 

"Jace? Where is he?" Mr. Bianchi questions. 

"He's in a motel nearby, he knows everyone here hates him and didn't want to be a bother." 

It takes a moment for her words to sink into my mind when I jump up, "You lived under that fucking rapist's roof with my daughter?" 

"Pariston! He's my brother." Mrs. Bianchi growls.