Cassandra

Thanks for those who reviewed! It means so much! ^_^ I\'m sorry if the dream scared you guys, btw. It was meant to. xP



Um, okay, after this chapter, there are two more. I was going to make this chapter and the next chapter one whole one, but I think they\'ll be better separate. :)



Enjoy!



-----



Let me tell you something: I\'m a bad liar. I\'m horrible at it. My face turns into a prime tomato; I shake in my flip-flops; I even start to sweat. So when the end of the workdays showed up and I had to leave Cassandra\'s side to bid farewell to Dave, was I freaking out?



Surprisingly, not really.



Sure, that first day was a bit scary, since I\'d had my first sexual encounter with his wife, but I kept telling myself that I was making things better. I was making Cassandra happy, and that was worth every ounce of guilt that could have encircled me. I hated, though, when Dave would ask how Cassandra was... Definitely hard to keep a straight face and solely shrug in response.



Cassandra and I began our "affair," I guess you can call it, and I fell more and more in love with her each day. She told me stories about her family -- what she could remember about her father and the imperfections of her mother -- and about her love for creating art. She told me she\'d always hated black-and-white films, but she loved photography in that style. She told me that ever since that picnic for her college roommate, where she\'d met her husband, she\'d felt inferior to Dave. Then she whispered, "But he was kind... You may not believe me, but he really was..."



I got the feeling that she had blamed herself for his "manic depression" or whatever he\'d obtained. From my time there and the time I\'d spent with lovely Cassandra, I couldn\'t put my finger on any weaknesses or burdens or flaws. She was beautiful, nurturing, respectful, everything.



We made love often, mostly in the master bedroom, and I was anxious, at first, but eventually content with the fact that Cassandra had been the one who\'d taken my innocence away. I wouldn\'t have wanted anyone else to do it. The entire time, too, she was gentle and comforting, easing her fingers into me at a steady rate while kissing affectionately at my lips and neck. That was the first time I heard her tell me she loved me in a strong, meaningful tone. Like she really meant it.



She continued to lie to Dave about her fake pregnancy. She had to have been three months along, but there wasn\'t really a way for her to show unless she wore baggy clothes or a faux belly. Cassandra didn\'t like to wear the overgrown sweatshirts, and the second option was out of question. She knew she\'d have to pretend to miscarry or she\'d have to confess, and time was running out.



It was the middle of July, as sweltering as ever outside, and I was in a hurry to get inside, not only because I was anticipating seeing my first true love after the weekend, but also because the heat was overwhelming. I knocked on the door like I always did and bounced on my heels anxiously.



"Come in, Taylor," Dave said from the other side of the door.



I practically leaped inside, smiling innocently in his direction. "How was your weekend?" I asked casually, slipping off my footwear.



He was fixing his tie, dabs of sweat already cleansing his face, and he gave me a firm smile. "Nothing out of the ordinary." He asked me to grab his briefcase on the floor for him as he reached for his jacket. His hand was on the doorknob and, because I\'d been so used to him just leaving after he\'d taken his things, I started to skip away towards the parlor entrance and then I would go up the stairwell to spend some quality time in Cassandra\'s bed.



But, apparently, today was a little different.



"Taylor," he said abruptly, forcing me to turn around, mid-skip, and stare at him curiously. "I know that sometimes you have disobeyed the rule of going in to see Cassie when I told you not to."



I swallowed.



"I ask you, please, to not visit her today. Something is wrong with her -- and maybe even the baby -- so I suggest you steer clear away from her. Do you understand me?"



A chill ran up my spine. Oh god. He hurt her.



"Taylor," he said, his eyes narrowing.



Swallowing the lump in my throat, I nodded. "I un-understand..."



He reciprocated the nod and twisted the knob. When the door clicked and I heard his car start, I bolted.



"Cassandra!" I cried, knocking on the door a few times. When she didn\'t answer, I pushed the door open and nearly fell over with the force. I looked up, seeing a lump under the blankets. Shaking. Running over to the farthest side of the bed, I kneeled to the floor and felt my heart sink at the pain etched in her contorted, damp face. "No..." I whispered, gently stroking her hair back behind her ear. "Cassandra, no..."



She bit down on her lip, her body continuing to tremble under the comforter. Her eyes were red and swamped with tears. When she released her lip, she mumbled, "H-he... kn-knows..."



My eyes widened. Tears filled up my eyes. He hurt her because of me.



As if she heard me say that, she whispered, "No... The baby..." Her voice cracked and she shut her eyes, a stream escaping the creases.



Forcing myself to not completely break down yet, I managed to speak in a somewhat-strong voice, "Let me see." She shook her head in jerky movements. "Cassandra, please," I pressed, stroking her hair back again. "Maybe I can fix it."



Again, she shook her head, but she\'d rolled herself over slowly anyway. Whimpering just from that movement, I could tell that it was much worse than some lacerations to her lower back. The thought made me tremble in fear and disgust. I helped her peel off the blankets, watching her face intently with each new layer removed. She clung to the bedsheets beneath her with her fingers, her knuckles going white. "Un-under my shirt..." she breathed uneasily, her eyes so welled up that I don\'t think she could see.



Biting down hard on my lip, to brace myself for what I could be seeing, I lifted up her t-shirt and moved it up towards her bosom. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw. Big, crimson-red splotches, most likely the in the shape of the front of a boot, covered her abdomen. Some of them, already, had started to turn purple. There were dozens of them, and all looked worse than the others. I covered my mouth with my hand to keep from retching and/or sobbing. Only a monster could have done this to someone else.



"Cassandra..." I whispered, my lips quivering. "You could be dying..."



She shut her eyes and swallowed. "I want to..." she whispered back, her breathing ragged.



I shook my head. "No, please... You can\'t die... Please, you can\'t die..." I glanced at her bruises once more, feeling sick to my stomach, and sobbed as I gently replaced the t-shirt over her injuries.



"Taylor..." Cassandra whispered, using the side of her hands to remove half of her tears in her eyes. "My... father could... never hold me..." She cringed as a sob tickled her throat. "Please... hold me..."



Sobbing openly, I crawled around her body to the other side of her, and I laid myself down next to her, resting my forehead to her shoulder, my arm draped across her chest. I could hear her cry too, but sometimes her breath would hitch and I would listen. Wait for her to breathe again.