DYSFUNCTIONAL FAMILY

MELLOW.

“This yours?” I ask Yolie when I thrust the result in front of her face.

She stretches her neck to peer at it comically before looking away to rest her head against the wall behind her.

“I forgot for a moment your bestie was a senior doctor,” she says calmly. “Should have gotten rid of that one too.”

“Don't you touch Oasis,” I warn.

“Well, tell that to Zeath.” Yolie chuckles.

“If you keep that up, you might never see him again. And, oh, I know how vicious he can be, so do not remind me.” I head for the door, standing on the threshold. “Let's find out how much this will benefit me, shall we?”

Yolie doesn't spare me a glance as I lock the door again before leaving for Mama Tia's place.

Ushered into the small, dim-lit living room, I'm not shocked to find Mrs. Lupin sitting upright with legs crossed on one of the cream-colored couches.

The woman irritates me. Her attitude is daunting. Perfect with her dirty stares and smokes like she could lose her sticks the next day.

Her face is even more wrinkled than Tia's. I bet each crease represents her facial trophy of hate.

“Sit down, dearest,” Mama Tia tells me from where she's sitting opposite Mrs. Lupin.

There are four single couches: two on one side, two on the other.

The one she urges me to sit on is next to Zeath's mother. And nothing more than a glass rectangular table lies between the two sets of couches.

“How have you been?” Mama Tia inquires, watching me do as I was told.

I shrug with a shoulder. “However you expect.”

The old lady smiles. She hasn't let her eyes wander from me since I arrived here.

“I understand what you are going through, dear. We are both women, after all, which is why sometimes it's better to quit. You do not want to keep seeing the trails of Zeath and his mistress now, do you?”

I stare at her for quite some time. At this point, none of the changes I see shock me for longer than a second.

“No, no, I don't,” I reply. “But I'll be the judge of that. And if I leave my marriage, it'll be MY choice.”

“Have you ever gotten your husband's penis to leak cum the way your mouth does words?” Mrs. Lupin chips in. One sentence of hers has got the whole environment reeking of smoke.

“We've been asking nicely,” she continues. “I'm fed up with being nice. Now, either you listen or deal with the consequences. And might I remind you that your father is running for the presidency again? Any little thing can sabotage that. Let's not also forget that your mother's factory is hanging on a thin thread as we speak.”

God, I want to smear her blood-red lip gloss on her bony face!

“You leave my family out of thi―”

“Ah. Shush. I better start teaching you how to treat an 'ex-mother-in-law'.”

I glare at Mrs. Lupin, who looks unruffled but smug over her tiny victory in the war of self-possession.

“What is it with Yolie? The pregnancy?” I ask her. “Because I know you especially don't seem to like any woman who marries into this family.”

I slam the ultrasound result on the glass table. “The child's a girl; Yolie's baby,” I spew without knowing which of them would be displeased by the news.

But their expressions tell a lot.

“From you, Mrs. Lupin, I sense an excitement. And from Mama Tia, there's disappointment. Your conflict of desires, despite your relationship, is choking. I mean, you are mother and daughter, after all.”

I turn toward my right to stare at Mrs. Lupin, who picks up her whiskey glass from the table before sipping as she looks at her mother.

“It means your first son has a higher chance at claiming the business, Mrs. Lupin,” I continue. “No chairmanship without a male child. I still remember the rules clearly.” Then to Mama Tia. “But your intentions are just as complicated as your person, isn't it, Mama Tia? I can't exactly pinpoint what you're disappointed about.”

Mrs. Lupin chortles briefly. And while I recline on the couch, I watch her swirl the drink in her glass for a reasonable amount of time.

Throughout this time, there's silence. Even Mama Tia seems to have lost her voice.

“Now this could be valid evidence against Zeath when presenting East's claims to the company,” I tell Zeath's mother afterward. “You could use this to your advantage because you know you would never get another tangible proof like this one. Zeath will make sure of it. And you can't rant to the board that Zeath's baby is a girl without proof.”

Mrs. Lupin resumes her chortle, speaking between, “You don't fool me, child. I'm a woman. I've birthed three kids. Lost four in miscarriages. I've been pregnant seven times and have done a scan more than ten times. That could be wrong.”

“Well, you don't need to admit that to the board; they're a bunch of old men who give zero fucks about these things. By the way, since when did you play fair?”

Zeath's mother abruptly stands up, causing me to swallow hard as I sense my muscles oozing out tension.

“What do you want in return?” She asks, lingering behind my couch.

I don't dare look back as I mutter nervously, “Maybe... stop feeding ideas into Zeath's head... for starters?”

“Then that's where you're wrong.” I feel one of her hands rest on my couch's backrest. “Zeath's a grown man and doesn't listen to his mama. You can skip to the next option.”

“Then, uhm...” Sweat beads on my forehead, my hands quivering. Mrs. Lupin's presence behind me almost feels like walking in a dark den. And the stare Mama Tia's giving me is not the comely type at all. “I want the Lupin family's full support of my marriage.”

“Hm.” I shiver when Mrs. Lupin's voice comes behind my ear, her whiskey breath tarnished by smoke charging into my nose. “Whatever did your mother teach you, young lady?”

“To fight... for what is mine,” I mumble shakily.

She scoffs. “Zeath will sooner show you he's not your property.”

I quickly rise from the couch. Nothing else will make me anxious if I don't see Mama Tia's face or feel like I'm walking blindly into a dangerous place.

“I sat in the dining hall, Mrs. Lupin, and watched your son strut in with a new woman an hour after we kissed goodbye on the phone,” I utter, emphasizing each word with the movement of my hands. “If it were you, would you simply walk away in shame? Wouldn't you want to get revenge at least?”

“I would consider it.” Mrs. Lupin shrugs. “But I'll also consider the family I'm trying to get revenge on. Fannings might be cunning, but Lupins are lions. We are strength itself. And no amount of force pulls us down.”

The door bursts open before some men in black troop in. Mrs. Lupin's handiwork, surely.

I should have reminded myself how intimate she is with betrayal. She did so to her son after all.

“Oh, you're going to force this from my hands now?” I snap as I snatch the ultrasound result from the table.

The woman snorts. “I'll do no such thing. I could rip that paper right in front of your face, but I don't deal with reckless, desperate, immature girls running around to claim a man that doesn't want them. I speak to people who mean business. You're just a fanatic. And, no, that thing will do nothing for East's claim. But the baby's portrait and DNA could. How about you dive into Yolie's belly and retrieve that?”

My feet involuntarily shuffle backward as I fight back tears. I don't know why I'm about to cry. I don't want to.

But it feels like several bottled emotions just burst loose, rushing up my stomach to my chest, making me feel like I could break down any second.

With my side-eye, I catch someone walking in through the door. When I looked, I found it was Zeath.

And at that moment, my shoulders droop, my heart galloping a thousand miles per minute.

Each thump against my chest leaves me breathless as I exhale repeatedly to let go of some agitation.

“Mellow,” Zeath calls calmly. But that tranquility in his voice is the one thing that could make me dart through the door if it were possible.

I thought I could handle him when he came. I thought I'd seen enough already that he didn't scare me anymore.

But being the wrong object of his wrath feels different. And it's not like I have anyone around to protect me.

As he steps forward, I try to move back before his voice stills me.

“Stay right where you are,” he commands with fury dancing in his eyes. “If you move an inch, I'll strike you down.”

When he reaches me, stopping in front of me, he looks down at my small form, while I watch him with wavering eyes as he cocks his head and mumbles in a deep, rumbling accent. “Hm. It pains me to look into those innocent eyes of yours only to tell you that you're so dead right after you spit out where the hell you kept my wife and baby.”

Wife? Did he just call her wife?

And he isn't joking. He's goddamn serious.

“I'm your wife, Zeath,” I mutter, almost purring. Zeath's perked brow tells me he doesn't care. “Are you for real?” I ask before he grabs my arm and yanks me toward the door.

His fingers dig into my skin. They don't draw blood, but they hurt so bad.

“One more thing, Mellow,” Mrs. Lupin voices from behind us just when we reach the door. Zeath stops, me too. “Learn patience. You never had that. If I wanted to make a move, I'd have done so within the past two years that you didn't give Zeath a child.”

I let out a shaky breath, shutting my eyes tight as a tear slid down each of my cheeks. I crane my neck to look at the woman as she raises her whiskey glass to her son.

“Cheers, boy,” she tells him, making me wonder what the heck is wrong with this family.

And just as I'm thinking that, East's bellow comes through the hallway.

“Mother! Your little bastard barged into my home, threatening my sons over a fetus that might die from its father's grudges―” He stomps in and nearly bumps into me, but pauses dramatically. “Bloody Melon, what did you do?”

I don't reply, nor do I look at him. My eyes are stuck in the space in front of me as I let Zeath drag me through the hallway to the helicopter waiting outside.

I made a mistake two years ago by marrying into a dysfunctional family. Who knew they were all insane?

Or I did know, but my fantasies rolled me to the middle of the highway anyway. And soon, I'll be crushed by wheels that belong to the Lupins.