Loving Alina

Time to be proactive

5. ALINA

Its been a week since I was assaulted. Was I assaulted? It alleviated my guilt to think of it that way. We were both drunk and I’m not sure enough of what happened to know who was most at fault, but I knew a line was crossed that shouldn’t have been. Neither of us had spoken about it. He acted like it never happened. Could I forget? Could I pretend it was just a bad dream? Is this what people do when they were filled with shame and regret? I wondered who I could talk to about it. I always used to tell Owen anything important - he was such a good sounding board. I couldn't tell him this. He wouldn't want to hear it if I did. Can I tell anyone else? Our friends had been painfully absent. Maybe I should move out? I couldn't think of anywhere else I might be able to go and, besides, I think I’ve caused enough of a scandal already. I needed to save some money and move on. f**k it was hard though. I only had access to money via my joint account with Owen and I didn’t think I should spend that money now. He'd already paid for me to go to the hairdressers. I agonized over the situation and feared I'd drive myself crazy. Like I didn’t have enough going on.

The house now looks like it used to when Mum lived here. It was spotless. I would have enough time now to take on a job whilst still fulfilling my obligation to clean the house and cook the meals. It was time to be proactive and take control of my life. I spent the rest of the day looking for jobs. I never needed one before. Owen wanted to look after me, he said he felt good being the provider and we both agreed I’d stay home to look after our children once they arrived. Damn, I missed him. Would he care that I’d had s****l contact with another man? I imagined the look on his face. Would he be jealous I'd enjoyed it? Would it make him realize how much he wanted me back?

The door shut and Dad staggered in and poured himself whiskey before he did anything else. He threw it back his neck and poured another. ‘Dad? Is everything OK?’ I asked. He raised his glass in a nod to confirm everything was fine, when clearly it wasn’t. When his dinner was getting cold, I risked popping into the living room and asking him ‘Shall I keep your dinner warm?’.

‘I’m not hungry today thank you’ he said. It was absolute bollocks, but fine, could have told me earlier though I thought. I held my hands up in surrender and backed out. I went to bed early. He was often in a bad mood at the moment. I knew something was wrong, but he wouldn’t tell me what. I wondered if they were going to start laying people off at work. Maybe I could help by paying rent once I get a job. Time passed in a bit of a blur while I cooked and cleaned and applied for jobs. The days would pass and night-time would come again. I hate going to bed at night. Nights were the hardest.

I didn’t see many people. Our friends found the whole Owen / Callie thing really awkward. I realised over the years most of the friends I had were ones I’d made with Owen. I hadn’t just lost him, I’d lost my main social group. I guessed he was still seeing the same people, going to the same places with the same friends, only now he had her on his arm instead of me. People stopped inviting me out. I guess they found it too awkward or needed to make a decision between asking me or them. Dad and I were working on regaining our equilibrium after our drunken encounter. He was the person I saw most and I wanted to go back to our chatty, verging on flirty status. It was the only happiness that filled my days. I felt like he was holding back and reasoned he must be feeling really bad about what happened. He was very drunk when it happened. People do silly things when they’re drunk, I thought. He looked sad and I gave him his breakfast along with a kiss on the cheek to cheer him up and show him we were OK. Looking surprised, he asked me ‘What was that for?’. ‘You looked like you needed it’, I replied kindly. He was looking at me ‘You’re too damn sweet, you know. Owen is an absolute f*****g moron losing you. If you were mine, I’d never let you leave’. If I was yours? I repeated in my head. Was that a strange thing to say to your stepdaughter? ‘Well. That’s very sweet of you too’, I replied shyly.

We gradually started spending more time together again and today we spent the evening together watching a movie on terrestrial television. Jurassic Park. Classic. We tried to beat each other to quoting the most popular lines before the cast said them. I suggested a dinking game where we’d put a hat on the corner of the TV and you had to take a drink each time a dinosaur was wearing the hat, but Dad declined and I wondered if he was trying to cut down on his drinking. He didn't normally turn down a drink. Dad said goodnight and went to bed before me and I stayed up for a while watching rubbish. I snuck upstairs not wanting to wake him, but when I passed his room I heard him. He was moaning and sounded breathless. I flushed red in the face. My eyes squinted in the dark and couldn’t stop myself looking through the gap in the door to see his naked silhouette standing with one hand on the wall and the other on his d**k wanking himself off as he moaned and quietly uttered dirty words. ‘Dirty little girl.’ he said tugging at himself. ‘Daddy is going to f**k you so hard’. I was frozen to the spot. My eyes roamed over his body, wishing I could see more. My insides clenched a little and in horror I realised I was turned on. I hadn’t had s*x for weeks now and my body wanted it. He was still tugging at his d**k and breathing heavily. I wondered if he was thinking of me. Did I want him to think of me? I felt liquid soak into my panties as I watched him. I knew I shouldn’t be watching but I couldn’t tear myself away. Too embarrassed to touch between my legs, I allowed myself to rub a hand over my breasts and squeeze them as I looked at his hand moving on his c**k. This was so naughty. ‘Do you want that baby? Do you want Daddy to f**k you?’ he muttered. I did. I wanted it. I was so turned on. I’d never done anything like this before and I’d never seen someone m**********g themselves. I wanted to rub my c**t and make myself c*m but I was so scared he’d know I was there. I could hear his breathing change and knew he must be close. ‘I’m going to c*m, I’m going to cum.’ he said before I heard him moan deeply and saw him lean into the wall as he climaxed. Crap. I fled down the hall to the bathroom and sat on the toilet. My heart was pounding and my p***y was aching. I wiped between my legs and cleaned up so I wasn’t soaking wet anymore. I waited for a long while before tip toeing to my room. When I passed Dads bedroom I was pleased to hear he was snoring already. My brain replayed the dirty words I heard him saying while he m*********d and I touched myself. He referred to himself as Daddy again when he was talking and I wondered if that was why he didn’t like me calling him Dad. I naughtily thought that I might call him Daddy now to see what he does.