Page 45 of The Facilitator, Part 2

W ith a little lying and manipulation, and a lot of money exchanging hands, the fact we hadn’t been in South Carolina for the required amount of days before we could apply for a marriage licence was overlooked.

I didn’t care even if the ceremony wasn’t legal, we could do it all again when we got home.

I’d allowed Vivienne the task of organising the event, providing she stuck to my terms. It was three days of mild protesting, near on rows, but we got there, we compromised…I gave in, and I loved everything she arranged for me.

I walked myself down the aisle , a path in the sand lined with candles and Gabriella followed behind.

Alex stood beside Mackenzie, both in white shirts and grey trousers, and Mack wore board shorts with a shirt and bow tie.

A chef was busy preparing a barbeque, a table held champagne.

A fire-pit had been dug and burning wood crackled softly.

In the moonlight, on a beach, barefoot but in a beautiful white silk dress Vivienne had worn to her debutant ball many, many years before, I married Mackenzie Miller.

When that was done, we drank and ate, and we danced in the sand to a local musician, who sat on a stool with just his guitar. I could not have wished for a better wedding, until the end.

Vivienne was preparing to leave; Mack was going to drive her home and then return.

The party wasn’t quite over. As I hugged Vivienne, I looked over her shoulder.

Addison stood at the edge of the beach, having clearly decided it was perfectly okay to walk around the house and through the garden.

I placed my hand on Mackenzie’s chest, as he was about to take a step towards her.

“This one is mine,” I said, without looking at him.

“Why are you here?” I heard Vivienne say.

“I just wanted to see them actually get married. You know this is probably not legal?” she said.

The person who stood in front of me was a far cry from the one I’d met in London. She was bitter, the poison flowing through her had tainted her skin, and she looked sallow.

“Addison, I feel so sorry for you. The acid from the bitterness that consumes you must need a shitload of medication. In fact, that’s probably why your pupils look like piss holes, why your skin is so awful, your lips cracked and scabby.

Drugs, is it? You can only gain any relief from your twisted life if you’re stoned, can’t you? ”

She didn’t respond, but I saw her completely deflate in front of me.

“I loved him,” she said quietly.

“Which one, Addison? Mackenzie, Daniel, Jerry, another family member?” I wasn’t letting her off that easily. “Whichever one it was, he lucked out with your nastiness.”

I doubted she had any idea what I was saying to her. I was full on London mode.

“How did it make you feel to post that photograph of me?” I asked.

She raised her head in mock defiance, but her body gave her away. She wrung her hands.

“I thought it was a stunning image, didn’t you?” I turned to Vivienne.

“Absolutely. Oh, to be young again,” Vivienne replied.

Mackenzie walked beside me. Again, I placed my hand on his arm. I could feel the tension in his body.

Addison cracked. Just one tear ran down her cheek. I stepped towards her and she took a half step back, not sure what my intention was. I reached out and I wrapped my arms around her.

“You need help, Addison. Let us help you. You’ve spent most of your life sad, and I don’t believe it started with Mackenzie.

It started way before that, right? It started with your mother leaving, didn’t it?

” I questioned. She didn’t answer; she didn’t need to.

“All you’ve ever had is your father’s unhealthy drive to prove himself, and neglect. ”

She looked over at Gabriella. “I wanted what she had, so I took it,” she whispered.

“Jealousy? Everything you’ve done is from jealousy of me?” Gabriella asked, softly but firm.

“Jealousy of a loved daughter,” she added. Addison then cracked further. I stepped back, letting go of her.

“Do you understand that everything you’ve done has only made everyone else stronger? The only person hurting is you, Addison, and that’s never going to stop until you make it. Only you can stop the pain in your heart,” I said.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, she held out her hand. She opened her fist and I took a small black flash drive. “I’m sorry about your car, the…the photos. I’m sorry. I’m sorry about the perfume.”

“The perfume?” Mackenzie asked.

“I just wanted you to remember me,” she whispered.

I stared at her. She brought her gaze back to me.

I leaned closer to her. “Liar,” I whispered. The hint of a smirk appeared on her lips. The evil bitch materialised. Addison couldn’t keep up her act long enough to fool me anymore.

Mack led her and Vivienne away. I stood and watched until she reached the corner. She turned. She didn’t look at Mackenzie, or Gabriella or Alex; she stared straight at me. She gave me one nod. She knew I had the measure of her.

I handed the flash drive to Mackenzie and he placed it in his pocket. I assumed it would contain the photographs. I didn’t think for one minute there was just the one she had taken of me.

“How could you do that?” Gabriella asked.

“Do what?”

“Offer to help her after everything she had done. I don’t honestly believe I could summon up that level of empathy for someone so vile.”

“There isn’t a thing she can do to hurt me now. She’s clearly taking drugs, maybe she always has, and that is where her dependency on wealthy men stems from. I don’t know. But who does she have? A dying father and a husband, her cousin, who seems to have abandoned her? She doesn’t fool me, though.”

Mackenzie wrapped his arms around me, resting his chin on my shoulder.

“I don’t know what to say to you. You overwhelm me every day; I’m in awe of your compassion for people. And I could fuck you so hard right now,” he said.

“We have guests,” I said, laughing. “Anyway, my wedding day isn’t over yet.”

We spent another hour or so, sitting around the fire, drinking wine, and listening to soulful music. It was a perfect end to an otherwise perfect day

However, I had yet to present my wedding gift to my husband.

The guests had gone, the music had stopped, and the fire had died down. I gulped down the remains of the cold white wine in my glass, more for courage, and I stood. I held out my hand to him. He smiled.

“I get to fuck you, for the first time of many, as my husband,” I said.

“I like the sound of that, Mrs. Miller.”

We walked to the house, locked the doors behind us, and then slowly made our way up the stairs and into the bedroom.

“Happy birthday, Mackenzie. My gift is me: totally, openly, completely, and forever.”

The smirk left his lips and I was sure I saw a tear form in his eye. He smiled.

I slid the white dress from my body; I was naked beneath.

I walked to the television and I switched it on.

It was preset at a channel both Gabriella and I had screamed with laughter over earlier that morning.

I wasn’t laughing when I turned to face him, though.

I had purposely left the sound off. I didn’t need their fake moans; mine would be enough.

The room was lit only by the bedside lamp and the moon.

Mackenzie watched me as I sat on the end of the bed with my feet on the chaise. I parted my legs as he stepped in front of me. He knelt placing his hands on my thighs and spreading my legs farther. I looked over his head, and I fucked myself while ménage porn played.

Mackenzie stood and stripped. My eyes flitted between the screen and him.

I wasn’t sure which—in that moment—was turning me on the most. Not that I’d ever want to have another man fuck me, but there was something every erotic about what I was watching.

Mackenzie climbed on the bed behind me. I leaned back into him as my fingers teased.

I couldn’t reach those same areas he could and I shuddered as he reached around me.

He inserted his fingers alongside mine. He shuffled and I raised myself until I was sitting on his lap.

I could feel his cock pressing into my ass.

He had one arm around my waist, his hand splayed on my stomach and the other was making me come.

We watched the movie until we both lost interest in the scene playing out. What was happening in real life took over. Mackenzie lifted me until I was sitting on the bed. He slid off and walked to the television.

“Pornfest another time. I need to do something,” he whispered. I shuffled up the bed.

“What do you need to do?” I asked as he stalked towards me.

He didn’t speak as he climbed on the bed beside me. He reached out and he ran his fingers down my cheek. He gently smiled.

“I need to make love to my wife.”

Other than to fetch food and drink, we didn’t leave the bedroom for the whole of the next day.