Chapter 34

The only way I could save myself right now was by complying. "Okay." I rasped.

Chris loosened his grip on my neck, and I gasped for air. He looked at me with a twisted sense of satisfaction, as if he had won some kind of battle. "Good girl," he said, running his fingers through my hair.

I felt dirty and ashamed that I had given in so easily to him. But the alternative was much worse. I couldn't believe this was really the man I loved, the man that wouldn't dare hurt a mosquito. That same man had just tried to choke me. What happened to the sweet guy that spent countless hours at my bedside when I got into that accident? Every single memory of him, of us was now tainted by the lunatic look on his face. This couldn't be my Chris. I was tempted to pinch myself, to try and wake up, but the pain on my neck felt way too real to be just a nightmare.

"Now," Chris said, pulling back, "now that we agree, you can finally get what you've always wanted. Me."

A few months ago, his grin would have been the cutest thing ever to my eyes. Right now, it looked twisted and evil, a grimace of malice that made my skin crawl. How can someone change in a heartbeat like that? Or worse, how can someone put up such a deep façade that he can deceive you for years.

I wouldn't go as far as saying he was always like that and lied to me, but something must have snapped in him, something must have changed him. Was it my fault? Did I do this to him? Did me leaving create the monster that was peeking through his intimidating look right now?

"If you always wanted us to be together, why didn't you ever say anything all these years?" I asked, but I wasn't really interested in the answer. There was nothing he could say that would undo the damage. I was merely trying to buy time, in hopes that Dylan or anybody would come in.

"Well, the truth is, I always knew we would never part." Chris shrugged, thankfully taking a step back, but still not far enough for me to make a run for it. "I just never realized what kind of together I wanted." For a moment, as he tilted his head, his smile seemed to return to that boyish and cute one I always loved. "Adam made me open my eyes. But more than anything, losing you for the first time truly made me realize what we've both always known."

"That is?" I eyed the kitchen door, hoping I could at least see a shadow, anything that could tell me if anyone was in there, but nothing. Did Dylan join my parents and Adam in the backyard? Was I truly hopeless? Now that Chris wasn't choking me, I could scream, but would that be enough?

I yelped when Chris pushed me against the wall, covering my body with his. His hands on my hips, he grazed my lips. "That all those nights spent sleeping cuddled to each other were wasted. We could have done many other things."

"Such as?" Again, I was desperately trying to buy time, making him talk sounded like a good way to stall.

Chris ran a hand through my hair. "You know what I mean." He gave me a quick kiss. "You know what you've always craved."

"I-I'm pregnant ..." I blurted out, unable to think of anything else that would deter him.

"I'm aware." He clenched his jaw. "But that's alright, there's an abortion clinic nearby. We can easily take care of it."

I recoiled at his words, feeling a sudden wave of nausea hit me. The idea of aborting the baby growing inside me made my heart heavy with regret and sadness. I could have aborted the moment I got the news, but I didn't, and I certainly couldn't now that I was past the first trimester. "I can't do that." I said softly, hoping to appeal to whatever shred of humanity was still alive in him.

He didn't seem phased by my plea. Instead, he chuckled dryly as if it were simply an inconvenience for him rather than a life. "We can make our own, don't worry." He claimed. "But you're not going to raise the child of a criminal."

"It's not his," I stated somewhat boldly, "it's mine."

"He is the father."

"It doesn't matter, I'm not with him." I may have heard a door open, but I wasn't sure which one – backyard or front door?

"You're still carrying his baby." Chris' grip on my hips tightened just as his jaw clenched. "Unless you wanted it." His fingers pressed against my skin just as his hot breath came closer to my mouth. "You don't want to be with him, do you?"

"Chris, you're hurting me." I whimpered, my voice barely audible as tears streaked my cheeks.

"Answer the question."

"I don't ..." I mumbled, "I don't ... I don't love him."

"Of course, you don't." He smirked wickedly, his fingers tracing my left cheek, as if wanting to wipe away my tears. "You love me. You've always loved me."

"Y-Yes ..."

"Then if you love me," Chris gripped my chin tightly, "you're going to get rid of the bastard's baby." I could barely shake my head, he kept me blocked against the wall, but I could never agree. "It's for our best," he claimed, "for our future, Vivy."

"No ..."

His jaw clenched and he pushed me harder against the wall, enough for the old pain in my back to reignite. I hadn't felt that soreness in years, after the car crash, now I felt it all over again. "You always do what I know is best for you, why are you being so stubborn right now?"

"Because you're asking for something impossible." I cried, even more when he pulled me forward, only to then push me against the wall again, this time even harder.

"Don't make me do this, Vivy," Chris claimed, yet still gripping my chin enough for my jaw to hurt, "I don't want to. I never had to, I don't want to start now."

"Then don't." I sobbed, trying hard to rein in the physical pain I felt to my back as well as the heartache that felt way too real to be just emotional. Broken heart syndrome is a thing, after all. "This isn't you, Chris ..."

"Of course, it's not." He clenched his jaw. "You're forcing me to be like this, because you just don't get it." He laughed wryly, finally pulling back from me, which allowed me to breathe properly for a moment. "You just don't see we're meant to be. We always have been." He spread his arms, as if inviting me to go to him, but I didn't move. "Everyone has always said the same. Even Brian knew that."

"Brian thought what we had was toxic," I admitted against my every sense of preservation. "He said we were tangled in an impossible situation that was either too deep to be friendship or too toxic to be love." My ex didn't use those exact words, he wasn't that much of a deep thinker, but the concept was the same.

Chris shook his head. "Nobody," he raised his voice, angry, "nobody ever understands what we have." He grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled up the piece of clothing enough to show me the tattoo underneath his left rib. "This means forever." Chris claimed, pointing at the sun and moon entangled together. "This is a promise. An eternal promise to always be together. Some random dude that accidentally stumbled onto your path won't change that." His laughter sounded darker than ever. "You surely cannot believe I'd have ever allowed you to leave me."

For some reason, Sebastian's words came to mind: A man that keeps you prisoner of your own bond with him doesn't really love you, does he? "So, you did sabotage my relationships." I muttered, unable to believe my own ears. "All these years, you did actively chase away every man that was interested in me."

"Of course, I did." Chris confirmed proudly, even looking at me surprised, as if I were supposed to know that already or even find it romantic or something. "It was really easy. Most guys know better than to cross another man's territory."

"Territory?" I repeated, flabbergasted. "Is that what I am for you? A possession?"

"Don't restart!" Chris growled, loud enough to scare me, but also to give me a glimmer of hope. He'd been way too loud not to be heard even from the outside. He started pacing the room frantically, shaking his head. "Why do you have to do this? Why do you want to stubbornly paint me as the villain?" His cold gaze once again froze the blood in my veins. "I love you, Vivy. Isn't that what you've always wanted to hear? You've always wanted to be with me, now you can." He shrugged. "Why are you making it so difficult?!"

"I'm not ..." I mumbled, lowering my glance, "I just ..." I closed my eyes, tears falling silently, "I just don't recognize you anymore, Chris." I admitted, once again my every instinct of self-preservation. "This isn't the man I loved." I sobbed. "I can't even tell whether that man ever existed or he was just a figment of my imagination." Or worse, a creation of his manipulations.

"Loved?" He repeated, stopping in his tracks just to stare at me, his green eyes ever so dark. "Past tense?"

"G-Grammar mistake ..." I corrected, not truly because I still loved him – even though, regrettably, I did –, but because the fury in his gaze made me truly fear for my life.

Chris stared at me for a long moment, until he decided I was saying the truth, so his features softened and he even smiled. "I'm sorry, Vivy," he came close against, his body just a mere inch away from mine, and he stroked my cheek, "you probably got confused. Hearing about me and Karen made you think I was leaving you."

"Y-Yes ..." I stuttered, feeling my heart in my throat. Now as ever, his touch felt revolting.

"I would never leave you," Chris cupped my cheeks, his features softening, "Karen was just a phase, I was confused." His ongoing switch from the sweet, caring guy I fell in love with to the violent monster that emerged every time I contradicted him confused me. More than that, it seemed made to confuse me, as if he kept jerking the leash he kept me on, to see how far I would go until I decided I couldn't submit to him anymore.

"I know." I whispered, lowering my gaze because I couldn't hold his, not when I knew that those green eyes had lost every sincerity. "I ... I should call my mom, she ... she will want to hear the good news." I forced out a smile in an attempt at convincing Chris that I was falling into his trap. Not truly because I couldn't see a way out, but because I saw someone behind him.

"Not yet." He squeezed my wrist. "We need some time to ourselves first."

"Your mom and Adam went to buy some groceries for tonight." My dad's gruff voice interrupted us as he appeared at the kitchen door.

Chris snapped immediately to him, which in other circumstances would have been normal, but the abrupt change in his features told me he was way too used to deceit and there weren't many chances he'd ever stop. "Carl ... hey ..." Chris greeted my dad. "It's been a while."

"I heard shouting," my dad commented, frowning, but before Chris could come up with an excuse, my father looked right behind him, which I had seriously hoped he wouldn't.

On cue, Chris turned to look at the person who was standing behind him, but before he could react, he was yanked back and thrown onto the ground. "Are you okay?" Dylan asked me as he handcuffed Chris.

Rubbing my throat, I nodded slowly. "Y-Yes ..." My knees felt weak, but thankfully, before I could fall, my father was taking me in his arms. "I'm so sorry, dad."

He didn't ask anything, he merely comforted me, holding me close, but I was sure he had many questions. Who wouldn't? He did just witness his daughter's best friend of 20 years be tackled by a police detective. And yet, he seemed to understand right away. He didn't even question the fact that it was Chris, he saw the mark on my throat, the tears streaming my cheeks, and he put two and two together. "I trusted you." Was all he said, but not directed at me.

"It's all a misunderstanding, Carl." Chris claimed, trying to wiggle out of Dylan's grip. "Get off of me."

My dad sent him a grim look. "I've seen you in diapers, Christopher, I promised your father I would raise you like my own and I did," he stated firmly, pulling me closer into him, "but believe me when I say, right now it's best for you if Detective Powell escorts you out of this house. Or I'll end up in prison, but you'll end up in a morgue."

"Dad ..."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that." Dylan joked, pulling Chris back with him. "I'm going to escort him to the local police station, they can take it from there." He looked at me, a sad smile on his face. "You sure you're ok, Vivian?"

I nodded, glad I could take refuge in my dad's arms. "Thank you."

"What's going on?" Adam asked, frantic, when he entered the living room. "Chris ... what ..."

"You should call mom." Chris said, unfazed, as if he truly believed this was all a gigantic misunderstanding and he hadn't quite literally tried to kill me just a few minutes ago. "And a lawyer."

"What did you do?" His brother asked, appalled, looking in between us.

"Nothing. It's all a misunderstanding. Right, Vivy?" Chris sent me one of his sweet boy smiles, to which I shuddered, feeling sick at the sole idea of everything we had done, all the moments we had together over the years being completely destroyed by a 10 minutes conversation. "It's ok, I don't blame you." He jerked back against Dylan. "They're all against us. But I promise I'll be back. No one and nothing can separate us."