Merry Deception: A Daughter's Revenge

Soraya: "Mum, quit staring at the young men for God's sake," I sighed, rolling my eyes. "You're almost fifty and yet, chase after twenty-something year olds." "If your father didn't leave me for a woman twenty years younger than I am, maybe I would have been going after older men. Besides, I look too good for most of these men." She smiled and kissed my cheek. "That happened almost a decade ago. Get over it." I groaned in exasperation. My mother, Cleopatra, ever the seductress, had gone from being a dutiful housewife to a blonde bombshell who focused on looking physically attractive, and somehow, it was starting to irk me. Don't get me wrong, I love my mother a lot. But sometimes, she did too much. We were on a cruise, taking us to one of the beautiful islands of Maldives for Christmas and New year's Day, and I had been given the tax of tearing my mother away from young men who didn't seem interested in her, against my own will. This was supposed to be a holiday for just me and Tristan, and somehow, she got Tristan to pay for her too. She did it all the time. Sometimes, she would try to get with the guys I dated and at this point, it felt like she was in a competition with me. And I was glad that I had Tristan, my boyfriend. He was loyal to a fault and had even warned my mother to stay away from him when she tried to make her dirty advances at him. He was the first guy to never fall for my mother's advances or even glance her way lustfully when they met. And I loved him so much. He always made me feel safe. He always reminded me that we were going to be together for as long as we lived, and that was enough conviction that I was with the right man. She leaned back against her seat and chuckled. "When's your boyfriend proposing?" I shrugged and popped a sweet into my mouth. "Hopefully, before the end of this cruise." "You're so lucky," She smiled, but something flashed in her eyes. "You have a man who loves and cherishes you. A lot of us don't have that." "Maybe if you quit tailing behind young guys with washboard abs, you'll find your Mr. Right." I replied cheekily. "There are tons of older men on board tonight." "Well, well, well," Tristan's voice came and I immediately turned, smiling the moment he stopped behind my seat. "How are these beautiful ladies doing?" "Great!" My mother replied before I could, fluttering her lashes and playing with her hair in a flirty way. I also noticed that Tristan's gaze lingered on her. This was new. "That's good to hear, Mrs Henshaw," Tristan replied. "And you look really magnificent today." I laughed. "Don't I deserve a compliment?" He sighed. "C'mon, you always look good. And mothers can be demanding." I glanced at my mother who kept biting her lips and shifting in her seat, her gaze fixed on him. "Well, she's not your mother." Tristan pulled out a seat and kissed me on the lips. "Quit being a drama queen." I nodded, but as we ate, I couldn't shake the feeling off. I was suspicious. Tristan was using a new tone on me. Hell, I was worried. "I've never seen anyone look really good with blond hair like you, Mrs Henshaw," Tristan mentioned as they conversed. She glanced at me. "My daughter beats me at that, but it doesn't stop the younglings from looking at me first." "When did you both get so friendly?" I asked. "Can you quit being annoying for once?!" My mother snapped, glaring at me through her long lashes. "Is it wrong to have a hearty conversation with my son-in-law to be? I know how attractive I am, but c'mon, I will not steal my daughter's boyfriend from her." I swallowed and glanced at Tristan. His jaw was tight so I knew he was mad at me. Just as I was about to slice into the steak on my plate, my thumb got in the way and the knife slit through my skin. "Ow!" I cried and dropped my fork, watching as blood spilled. "Fuck." "Go and get it cleaned!" Tristan snapped, his voice laced with annoyance. As I made my way towards the rest room, I wondered why Tristan sounded that harsh to me. Usually, he would have followed me to the bathroom and made sure the wound was properly taken care of. When I returned to the restaurant, I noticed that my mother was now seated directly beside Tristan, their heads close to each other as they stared at the screen of her phone, in my own seat! "Mum, why are you in my seat?" She looked up at me. "I was showing something to him. C'mon, take my seat instead." Anyone would actually believe I was being dramatic, but I knew my mother was onto something. Tristan also acting strange all of a sudden didn't help matters. Snapping out of those thoughts, I decided I was overthinking things and focused on my meal. Throughout the rest of the day, I was sweet to Tristan, but he wasn't responsive. He was probably just in one of his moods and since I was happy, I could be happy for us both. Later in the evening, while we got dressed for the ball holding at the cruise's hall, I couldn't help but cry out my grievances to my mother. "Mum, Tristan has been acting strange and I am really worried." She stopped applying her makeup and turned to me. "Why do you think so?" I shrugged. "He's unresponsive and really distracted. He keeps snapping at me which is unusual." "My child, you can be really insecure at times, you know that, right?" She muttered. "Men can get that way sometimes. Something is probably on his mind and you're being a hassle. Give him a little more space, will ya?" "How's it about my insecurities?" She rose to her feet and cupped my face. "Because I am your mother and I know you. You're scared that someone will take him away from you. C'mon, look at you. You're so beautiful, why would he look elsewhere?" "Now, I need you to chin up," She went back to her seat. "Tonight, we're going to have a blast and maybe he'll find the courage to propose to you." Thirty minutes later, I was back in his arms. "Tristan, I am really sorry for the way I acted today," I said to him as we danced around the dimly lit hall. "I know you're mad at me, but it's a beautiful night and we're dancing. Let's forget about it, please?" He sighed. "Alright. Fine." "Is that all you have to say?" I asked. He suddenly pulled away from me. "What the f**k do you want me to say again? Apology accepted?" "What's going on, Tristan? Why are you suddenly acting strange. This is unlike you." By now, people were glancing our way and whispering. Tristan walked away and when I tried to follow him, he stopped me. "I want to be alone." I watched him walk away, a heavy feeling in my chest. I spent the next thirty minutes doing everything to distract myself from the embarrassing moment Tristan put me through. My mother had left a while ago to powder her face and had told me not to make any move from where I was, as she was going to talk to Tristan, but I was impatient. When I decided I couldn't stay here anymore, I rose to my feet and made my way towards the suite I shared with Tristan. But as I drew close, I started to hear voices. "God, I hate her so much," Tristan's voice came. "I can't believe you made me do this, Cleopatra. This is killing me." "Darling, calm down, my mother's voice cooed, dripping with sweetness. "Do you think it's been easy for me? Watching you pretend to care for my daughter while my heart aches for you? But people would never understand us. You know that." I frowned. What the f**k were they talking about? "It's been two years, Cleo," He sighed. "I hate sneaking around to make passionate love with you. Who cares if you're twenty five years older than I am? I f*****g love you and I want to be with you." I pushed the door open with trembling hands, and the sight before me shattered my soul. There she was, my mother, Cleopatra-perched on Tristan's lap, her bare chest pressed against his. Her fingers tangled in his hair like she owned him. Both their heads snapped toward me. "What are you doing here, Soraya?" Tristan barked, standing abruptly and pulling a sheet over her. My voice trembled. "Mother, why are you-" My words choked as nausea bubbled through me. "Why are you naked on my boyfriend's lap?" "Honey," My mother rose to her feet. "He's my son-in-law to be. C'mon, don't be like this." "And you're half naked and seated on his lap?!" I screamed. Tristan glared at me. "Cleopatra, I think it's time we told her the truth." I burst into laughter. "Oh, now, she's no longer Mrs Henshaw?" "You weren't supposed to find out like this." My mother began. "Find out what?" I spat, my voice rising. "That you've been screwing my boyfriend? How long has this been going on?!" Tristan stepped forward, his expression unapologetic. "Two years, Soraya. It's been two years. I never loved you. I met your mother first. She's the one I want." "Two years..." My voice cracked as the weight of his words sank in. "I was just...a placeholder? A f*****g decoy?" My mother seemed unbothered. "Oh, darling, she sighed. She stepped closer, her tone calm as if this was such an unimportant matter. "We were worried about how it would look, darling. A man Tristan's age with a woman like me? People would talk. So I suggested he date you. It made sense at the time. "Sense?" I screamed, my voice breaking. "You used me. You lied to me! Both of you!" Tristan shrugged, his arm sliding around Cleopatra's waist. "It's over now. You know the truth. Move on. The sight of them lit fire inside me. My pain twisted into something raw and vengeful. "I hope you enjoy your little love affair," I said, my voice trembling as tears spilled. "Because I'm done. And trust me, this isn't over. Merry f*****g Christmas!”