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I closed my eyes, reaching for the closest thing I could lean upon to bring me back to reality. I stumbled down on the arm of the sofa and found myself looking at him for more than five seconds in complete disbelief at what he just told me.
Our entire relationship flashed before my eyes, our first date, his declaration of love (in his own way, of course), our marriage only two short months ago and now-
“Amanda.” Sarek’s voice broke me from my thoughts.
I looked down, my eyes glued to my white ballet flats. He stood in front of me, his arms clasped in front of him. The orange light from the holographic candles radiating the living room – It helped my sore head. He was still in his diplomatic robes, just an hour from returning from his week-long business trip.
I was so happy to see him after seven days, but now I wished he told me this while he was still away. I finally looked up to him, feeling my eyes well with tears and managed to say my voice full of disbelief, betrayal and shock
“You were married before me?”
He looked at me with his usual deadpanned expression.
“And you didn’t tell me?” I continued, wiping the now falling tears from my cheeks.
“It was a matter of irrelevance.” He finally said, “You did not need to know of this matter.”
I was going through all of the emotions, one moment I wanted to break down and cry like a child, the next I wanted to resort to violence, and then I wanted to hug him. I clasped my hands in front of me and leaned forward resting my head between my legs.
I didn’t feel lightheaded, but I was prepared for anything in this moment.
“Why?” I asked.
“It was a matter of-“
“Logically speaking, why would you think that not telling me, your current wife, that you were married and have a child, was not relevant!”
When I looked up he was pacing, as if he was deep in thought. I knew otherwise. I waited in silence for five seconds before, I shot up from the arm of the sofa and walked to him, the anger taking over.
“Don’t you think I deserve to know where my money is also going? Do I need to remind you that both of our salaries go into ONE bank account so it’s not only your money caring for this child, but my own. Don’t you think I deserve to know that I am a step-mother and have inherited that huge amount of responsibility upon marrying you?!”
I didn’t even realise that my voice was raised to a yelling level until he turned to me and said in a relatively firm tone.
“Amanda, I urge you to lower your voice.”
My heart was racing now, I had never been this angry in my whole life. I just couldn’t see straight. My vision was black, I wanted to break something. I felt my whole body clench.
I exploded, hearing my voice ricochet off the walls.
“Don’t you dare tell me to lower my voice, S'chn T'gai Sarek! I’m fucking angry! You keep this vital information from me for two years! TWO FUCKING YEARS!”
The tears poured down my cheeks quicker than I could wipe them. He reached out, but as his hand reached my arm I pulled away violently. “Don’t touch me!” I hissed through clenched teeth, walking away from him to the other side of the living room, “I am hurt, betrayed, and misled!”
“It was not my intention to make you feel as such.”
My feet led me out of the living room, down the corridor and to the kitchen.
“Amanda,” I heard him call from down the corridor, “Where are you going?”
I reached the kitchen and while I had no idea what I was doing there, I allowed myself to, on impulse, make a cup of tea. I watched out of my peripheral vision him lurking, watching my every move for about three minutes until I finally spoke gripping the hot mug of Vulcan tea in front of me.
“Do you think I deserved a chance to back out if the fact of you having a child was too much for me? Don’t you think I deserve to know this information that the WORLD knows but you don’t think to tell your own wife?!”
“Do you wish to break our union now that you are made aware that I have a child?”
“No.” The word left my mouth before I could even recognise that was the true answer.
I drew in a breath, desperate to calm down my fast heartrate. I sipped some of the hot liquid, putting the mug down on the counter with a shaky hand.
“Tell me what happened.”
“Clarify.”
“Tell me what happened between you and you ex-wife.” The question sounded almost like an order.
I fought the next words that he spoke not to go out the other ear. He had met T’Rea when they were seven years old and were betrothed. Arranged marriages were, and still are, typical in Vulcan families.
In between attempting to calm my anger by drinking tea, and debating whether I should hit him over the head with the mug, Sarek further explained that he had no say in the marriage, and that by the time he had asked for an annulment, T’Rea was already pregnant.
I looked down at the hot liquid and contemplated what he had said. The explanation didn’t help quell my anger even if it did answer the questions I had. If he didn’t want the marriage so much, why did he even consummate it? My free hand began to tap my lips as I unconsciously reminded myself to think before I said anything I would regret.
“I was in Pon Farr when we married.” Sarek suddenly said. “The choice to consummate the marriage was not fully my own.”
I looked up, raising my brow in confusion before I managed a slight nod in acknowledgement, forgetting for a second that we are joined mentally.
“If you would please not resort to violence. I would prefer my head remain in one piece”.
“I will not hit you.” I said flatly.
“Are you certain?”
“How old is this child?” I asked, unamused by his response “Is it a boy or a girl? Where does it live?”
“You did not answer my previous question.” I could sense a tinge of concern in his voice.
“No, Sarek, I will not hit you in the head with the mug.” I clarified.
“The child is a four year old male.” He answered, “His name is Sybok, he lives in his mother’s residence in Gol over three hours away.”
I ran my fingers through my loose brown curls. I sipped more of the hot liquid and took in a breath as the anger finally began to morph into sadness.
“Why are you telling me now? Why now, Sarek? What’s changed?”
His voice softened, “T’Rea has died.”
“I’m sorry?” Clearly I misheard that.
“T’Rea, the child’s mother has died. The child is now in my custody, our custody.”
I grabbed the barstool nearby, pulled it to my side and sat back down. I was silent for several minutes. Processing this information, and then everything else, and then thinking.
T’Rea has died. This child is now motherless. It wasn’t the child’s fault – I knew that and I was not angry at him, nor did I blame him. He didn’t ask to be brought into this world. He did not ask to have the father he had, or the mother he had.
He was four, the same age as the children I taught back home. I remembered just how heartbroken my former student Romy was when her beloved turtle died. I held her in my arms when we had a little memorial service for him in class. She cried so hard.
This boy would be feeling the same way about his mother, if not worse. Vulcan or not. Sybok. Sybok. My step-son. My… son.
I drew in a breath and asked, “Is Sybok still in Gol?”
“For the time being.” Sarek said, “I wished to consult with you over what to do with the child.”
“So you don’t know what to do with him?” I replied, my voice colder than I intended.
“I am unsure of what to do.” He clarified.
I began to rub the back of my neck with my free hand, now feeling exhausted from the situation. “Given your ex-wife’s rank, I imagine the child has a governess?”
“Yes, the child has a governess.” I noted a trace of surprise in his voice.
“Then Sybok shall remain in his home in Gol. Moving him will only make the situation worse for him. What you will do is this: you will pay a monthly fee for his expenses from your own money along with the governess’ salary.”
He was silent. He opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off.
“And let it be known I will be moving my salary to a separate bank account.”
“As you wish.”
I simply watched out of my peripheral vision as he watched me rub my neck and taking several small sips from my tea. After much coaxing, I managed to look at him for more than a few seconds, and asked,
“Do you know why I am so angry, Sarek?”
“You expressed anger at feeling betrayal and being misled.” Sarek answered flatly.
“Do you know why I feel that way?”
He was silent, which caused me to inhale deeply,
“You being upfront and telling me about your past promotes accountability. Number one, understanding why things happened and how they did with T’Rea helps avoid past mistakes repeating with us, your current relationship. Secondly, I’m not angry at you being married before me and having a child is not what makes me angry, he’s innocent in this situation. It’s the fact that you kept this from me for over two years, it makes me feel like I did something wrong for you to not tell me. It’s as if you don’t trust me.”
“You did nothing wrong,” He said. “I understand my mistake of not telling you.”
I looked down, sipping more of my tea,
“I apologise”.
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t respond. Rationally I knew the situation wasn’t completely his fault, but I couldn’t help but feel the anger still embedded in the pit of my stomach. He still hid this from me.
In one gulp, I finished the rest of my tea. He still observed me, waiting for my answer. When I didn’t respond after four minutes of silence, he began to prod my mind. He was desperate for some sort of response.
“Stop.” I winced.
“A response is requested.”
I glanced at him, he stood in front of the high top with his hands clasped behind him.
“Follow me” I said, as I made my way out of the kitchen, feeling him follow close behind.
I walked into the bedroom, and without hesitation took his night shirt, trousers, pillow and a blanket. I turned around, almost jumping at just how close he was to me, before handing them to him.
He rose a brow, not even trying to hide his confusion from me.
“These items are meant-“
“For the bedroom, yes.”
I walked out of the bedroom and stopped in front of the L-shaped sofa in the living room. I turned around as he walked over the threshold of the bedroom and into the living room.
“The sofa will be your bed for the time being.” I responded with little emotion in my voice.
He said nothing and walked to the sofa, placing the items down on the sofa. I took my thumb and middle finger to my lips and whistled loudly as I walked passed Sarek and headed back to the bedroom.
I stopped just short from passing the threshold and turned around,
“Oh, and when you have drafted the letter to Sybok’s governess, send it to me first.”
I’Chaya, the Sehlat, and Ambassador, the cat, ran down the corridor and into the bedroom room where without another word, I closed the door to the bedroom.
~*The End*~