A Changed Life Read online

  “Michael took something from you, and you need to reclaim it back. He may have taken your body that night, but he didn’t take who you are. After everything you suffered at his hands, you still found the courage to fight him back. Do you even realize where that strength came from? That courage came from within your spirit and heart. Now you have this incredible miracle growing inside of you. It doesn’t belong to Michael, it belongs to you. This baby will grow inside of you, feel your love, grow from your strength, and become an extraordinary person because of you. I can promise you here today, that whatever you decide, I will always be by your side, and accept what you want to do.”

  I let out a deep breath, and I placed my head down on Simon’s lap. I couldn’t tell him what I was feeling, because I just didn’t know. I needed some time to think. Simon knew I needed some space, and he gave it to me. Simon carried me upstairs to one of the bedrooms, and placed me down onto the large king sized bed. He kissed my cheek and whispered, “Sleep baby. I’ll be here when you wake up.” I drifted off as soon as my head hit the pillow.

  Are you my mommy? I hear over and over again. A shy timid voice calling out to me in my dreams, but I can’t see a face. All I see is a shadow surrounded by a beautiful bright shining light, and I hear the voice again. Are you my mommy? I feel like I am being strangled within this dream. I’m begging to wake up from it until I hear my name being called out to me. I am jolted awake from my sleep.

  Simon is holding me by my arms with his worried eyes looking back at me. “Baby, are you ok? Were you having a nightmare? I heard you screaming from downstairs.” I started to shiver. I was suddenly cold, and Simon wrapped a blanket around me and asked me about my dream. I could only tell him that I heard a child’s voice asking me if I was his mommy. I kept hearing the question over and over again. Simon hugged me and asked me to come downstairs. He had lunch prepared for me, and we ate outside on the deck looking out to the ocean. It was a breathtaking sight. My mom had phoned me while I was sleeping. Simon told her I was ok, and I would call her back when I woke up. They all wanted to know where we were, but Simon did not tell them. He just said not to worry, and I was safe. Of course I was because I was with Simon.

  “My mom probably has called your parents, asking where we are.”

  “I’m sure she did, but they don’t even know. My parents flew out this morning to visit my brothers. I guess I was driving them crazy, and they needed a break.” Simon laughed as he tossed another fry into his mouth.

  Simon asked me if I had thought about anything while I was resting. Other than having that weird dream, I honestly said, “no”. I knew I couldn’t go through with ending the pregnancy. Whether I wanted to keep the baby, or give it up for adoption seemed foreign to me. I wasn’t ready to make any decisions yet. “Nicolette, you have plenty of time to decide.” Simon assured me.

  “What about Michael? If he finds out that I’m pregnant, won’t he want rights to the baby?” Simon’s facial expression hardened. “Michael lost the right to anything the moment he decided to hurt you. Do not worry about him Nicolette. I will never let him hurt you or this child.” I believed every word Simon said to me. I finally submitted to him, and put my life and heart into his hands. I’m sure our parents don’t believe how we feel for one another on account on how young we are. We don’t care what they think, because our age did not matter. The love we feel for one another has linked us forever as one heart and one soul.

  Sitting here day after day in this cell was grating on my nerves. I needed to get out of here, and return to the comforts of my lifestyle. I know my surroundings could be worse if I am convicted of raping Nicolette. I could be sent to prison for years, and that thought was horrifying to me. I can’t forget that night with Nicolette. Why couldn’t she just be with me, and give us a chance to see where it would lead?

  I was so angry with my father for wanting to send me away. The smug bastard never even asked me how I felt. Avoiding our issues and tucking them away was easier than to deal with them. I wasn’t his problem to solve. I’m his son! He was supposed to love me, and be the father he was before my mother had died.

  Back then Clayton St. Clair was devoted to his family. He had always worked hard and that accompanied many long hours in the office. He knew how to separate his personal life and work life. When my father returned home to us, he left his work at the office. My parents’ marriage was strong, and they always showed their love for one another. It didn’t matter if it was in public or private, never caring who was around.

  I remember my mother in her final days battling breast cancer. I spent every waking minute with her, and we talked about everything she thought I needed to know. My mother was heartbroken that she wouldn’t be around to witness the momentous times of my life. Graduating from high school, and of course, my dad was a no-show. He had sent his secretary in his place. No subject was off limits with my mom. I loved her so much, and I was just in awe of her undeniable strength she had within.

  Mom knew her cancer had progressed, and she was running out of time. She had settled all her affairs, and took care of all her funeral arrangements beforehand. My father was sickened when mom sat us down to explain her plans to us.

  Lydia St. Clair was a force to be reckoned with, she held our family together. My father and I held her hands the night she died. The family we knew and had drawn strength from, died along with her.

  My mother didn’t want a big production of a funeral, and she instructed she only wanted close family and friends at her service. She didn’t want the media coverage present. This would be hard enough for my father and I, and mom didn’t want our grief played out for the world to see.

  My mother’s family was extremely wealthy, so she never had to work a day in her life. She graduated from Yale University with top honors in Art and Italian History. My mother loved Italy, and we visited Florence on many occasions. Mom always had told me that she wanted to teach, and pass her love and passion for the arts onto willing students who wanted to learn. When my mother met my father, they fell instantly in love, and she followed him and his dreams, instead of her own.

  My mother never complained, she was happy being a wife, and mother. She devoted countless hours to her favorite charity groups, always supported the arts, and especially in public schools. My father was always pretentious, and he frowned upon this. My mother ignored his snobbery. Although she was immensely wealthy in her own right, her parents raised her to always pay it forward, and never take what you have for granted. She never did.

  Lydia St. Clair was so beautiful, and kind. I cursed the heavens when she died, looking for answers. Why was my mother taken from me? I never understood how the doctors couldn’t cure her. I would give and do anything to have her back. If she could see me now, sitting here in jail, she would be so disappointed in me. Memories of my mother were making me physically sick. She raised me better than this, and how did I get to this point? I thrashed around on that lumpy cot, until I got up and started to pace around my cell.

  My anger got the best of me, and I was filled with grief on how I hurt Nicolette. All I wanted to do was love her. Did I actually do what I’m being accused of? At the time, I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong. My feelings for Nicolette consumed me twenty four hours a day, and she was all I wanted for the first time since my mother had died. With the adrenaline pulsing through my veins, I punched the concrete wall that surrounded me. I looked down to my bloodied broken hand as I cried out in pain until a guard heard my screams.

  It was Detective Westphall whom I saw when I looked up from the floor. Oh great, this guy hates me. He won’t care that I’m hurt. The detective just looked at me with disgust, and called for a medic to take a look at my hand. One arrived fifteen minutes later to conclude that my hand was broken, and I would need to go to the hospital.

  I couldn’t be handcuffed with my hand as swollen as it was, so I was surrounded by two police officers with Detective Westphall escorting me to the hospital. I’m sure if I wou
ld have made a move to run, I probably would have been shot on site. My father was called along with John, my lawyer, and they were to meet me in the emergency room.

  My father had his personal physician standing by, along with a top orthopedic surgeon he had called in to see me. I was brought in to a private examining room to have my hand checked out. After getting an M.R.I., it showed it was broken in two places. I would need to have a cast put on, just not today. I had too much swelling, and was given injections to help it heal.

  I would have to return to the hospital in a few days, and have my hand set in a cast. While I waited for the doctor to return with post care instructions, my father took the opportunity to yell at me for interrupting his work day.

  “What the hell were you thinking, Michael? Punching a brick wall? How could you be that reckless?” I just shook my head in defeat. What could I say to him? Tell him how I was feeling sorry for myself, and wishing my mother was alive to hold me? I don’t know what my father’s reaction would have been if I had told him the truth. I just remained quiet, and let him tell me again how I disappointed him.

  My father’s tirade was short. His lawyers were working on getting me released from jail. I was asked to consider accepting a plea bargain, if offered by the prosecutor. My mental status has been brought into question. They will argue that upon hearing I was being sent away, I became enraged, and that’s why I assaulted my father. Clayton St. Clair was my only parent, and no matter how I felt about him, deep down I knew I loved him. I never knew how he felt about me, and after his beloved Lydia passed away, he has never been the same.

  If released, I would be restricted to house arrest and would have to wear an ankle monitoring device, restricting me to the grounds of my home only. I would agree to these terms without hesitation. I hate this place, and just wanted to go home.

  The officers came in to bring me back to jail. My father just slapped me on my back, and told me to remain strong. Back in my cell, my hand was throbbing, and I was given my pain medicine. I began to drift off to sleep when a vision appeared to me in my dreams. It was my mother before me. She was so beautiful, and I just wanted to reach out for her and not let her go.

  “What’s happened to my beautiful boy?” I heard her voice asking me. Have you forgotten everything? Have you forgotten me?” I could see my mother’s sadness all around her.

  I cried out to her. “Mother, please don’t leave me again.” Her image faded slowly away from me, and I woke up in a cold sweat. My breathing was ragged and my hand was aching, but no more than my heart.

  I hated to leave the beach house, but Simon gave his word that he would not miss his practice with his coach and team. We didn’t want to separate. My heart ached knowing we would be apart after talking and spending so much time together today. Simon promised he would call me as soon as practice was over, and I smiled at him as he drove away. I took a deep cleansing breath before entering my house. I knew what was waiting for me on the other side. I walked in to find my Aunt Sara sitting with my parents and Uncle Jack. All my anxiety left me when she walked over and hugged me. She whispered in my ear, “I’m so sorry baby. I wish I could have been here sooner,” I just blinked back tears and hugged her again.

  She brushed my hair away from my face, and asked me to join her in the living room. I had walked in, and interrupted my family discussing me, again. I tried to remain calm, and not be so defensive with them. “How are you feeling, honey?” My mom asked me.

  “I’m ok mom. Simon took care of me today.” My mom couldn’t hold back any longer, and blurted out, “We have to discuss the baby.” Wow, that didn’t take long.

  My dad sighed and folded his arms across his chest. “Nicolette, we have been discussing this all afternoon. We need to know how you feel about this and what you plan to do about the baby”

  It was my turn to sigh and breathe heavily. “What do all of you want from me?” I asked my family. “Do you think I can just magically snap my fingers, and what happened to me will suddenly go away?” I got up off the couch, and walked around the room until I could no longer hold in my rage. “You all are unbelievable! You sit here and discuss my life, and what you expect me to do. You have no idea what I have been through, and the hell that I am in. Every night when I should be sleeping in peace, I am reliving my rape. What Michael did haunts me every day, and now I’m pregnant with his child. I am just trying to get through this nightmare I call my life, one day at a time, without any pressure from you. Last year, I was living in Chicago, dreaming of going to college, and looking forward to the next chapter in my life. Everything changed for me when you decided, again, what was best for me.”

  “Nicolette, please let-,” Interrupting my mother I say, “Quiet mother, it is my turn to speak, and you all will listen whether you want to or not… Mom, when you and daddy wanted this amazing new life here in California, you didn’t care how it affected me. You took my choice away from me, even after I begged to stay behind with Uncle Jack and Aunt Sara. I have done everything you have asked me to do. Now it’s your turn to do something for me. You need to back the hell off, and give me some fucking space.”

  I felt like I had just run a marathon. I was completely out of breath. I put my hands on my knees, trying to bring my breathing under control. I finally was able to compose myself, and face the wrath of my mother glaring back at me.

  “Nicolette, you will not use that language in my house, do you understand me? I know you are hurt and upset, but we will not be disrespected. We are only trying to help you.” Oh my god! She doesn’t have a clue.

  “Are you serious, mom? Help me? I don’t see it that way at all. You are once again trying to control me, and navigate my life the way you see fit. I have held my tongue for far too long now, and I will not be silenced. You keep asking me how I feel, and what I’m planning to do? I have no idea, mom. Just when I was finally accepting my new life here in California, I never could have predicted what was going to happen to me with Michael. I have new friends, and Simon, who has been my rock throughout this whole ordeal. If it wasn’t for Simon, I don’t think I would have made it this far. His love is saving me, mom. Even when I constantly push him away, he is still here by my side. I don’t want to hurt you, because you are my family, and I love you. I need time to heal and work this out on my own terms. I can’t be pressured into doing what you want me to do. I started to cry, and my father tried to comfort me. Daddy, I can’t take much more of this. Please just let me be.”

  “Nicolette, we never meant to hurt you. You mean everything to us, and we just want to make sure you are ok.” My father pleaded with me to understand they only had the best intentions to help me.

  “Nicolette, if you are calmer now, we have to continue to discuss the baby.” Mom continued, interrupting my moment with my father. I couldn’t believe that after everything I had just said, she still doesn’t get it. Stepping out of my father’s hold on me, I turn to face my mother.

  “Mom, haven’t you heard a word I have said to you? How can you stand here, and ask me again to discuss the baby? I am not ready to make any decisions yet.”

  “Nicolette, whether you are ready or not, this baby is a reality, and we do need to discuss it.”

  “Nicolette, please calm down honey. This stress isn’t good for you.” Bless her heart, my Aunt Sara, always the voice of reason. I was fighting with my mother. She wanted this conversation, and now she’s getting it.

  “For the umpteenth time, this is not how I envisioned my life. As you have reminded me repeatedly today, my new reality is that I am pregnant. How did I get pregnant? Oh yes, I was fucking raped! I will repeat… I. WAS. RAPED! By the boy you told me to be nice to and try to maintain a civil relationship with. I put my hands up in a mockingly way to gesture quotes. The same boy that stalked me for months, and wouldn’t leave me alone. The same boy that I tried with my best efforts to let him know I wasn’t interested in him, and I was in love with someone else. I tried mom, I really did try. For the sake of your w
orking relationship with Michael’s father, I tried to do what you asked of me, and be his friend. What you didn’t know mom, was that Michael never wanted to be my friend. He had this sick fantasy that he loved me, and we were meant to be together. I refused him over and over again until he snapped and took me by force. Michael St. Clair raped me. I fought him with all that I had, and he kept hurting me, because he didn’t care. He just took what he wanted, and now he has left a permanent mark on me with his child growing inside of me.”

  I fell to my knees and cried. I finally revealed to my family what Michael did to me. They all ran to me, and I screamed at all of them not to touch me. My heart was beating so fast, and it felt like it was going to burst right out of my chest. I ached all over. My beautiful afternoon I had just spent with Simon has now been reduced to a faded memory. I took a sip of some water to regain some of my composure as they all sat with bated breath waiting for me to speak again. My mom and Aunt Sara were wiping tears away from their eyes. I did the one thing to my family I never meant to do. I hurt them and caused more pain. I didn’t even recognize myself anymore. My mother kept pushing me, how did they expect me to react? I had enough and snapped.

  With my tears threatening again to fall, I turned and faced my family. I apologized for the way I spoke to them, especially to my mom. She didn’t deserve to be talked to in such a brutal manner, but the dam had been breached, and I couldn’t keep my feelings contained any longer.

  “My life changed forever the moment Michael raped me, and I know I will never be the same girl I once was. I don’t know what you want from me. Do you expect me to just go on, as if nothing has changed? If this is what you want me to do, then I can never give that to you. I just found out the man I have adored, and loved all my life, is actually my biological father. I’m still processing all of this while dealing with my rape. After learning the truth, I didn’t shut you out. I understood and listened to all your reasons why you did what you did. I opened my arms out to all of you, because I love you so much.”