The Unwanted Marriage: Dion and Faye’s Story (The Windsors)

I stare at the bank balance on my banking app in disbelief, a new kind of thrill running down my spine. The staggering amount is surprising, but I’m even more surprised that Dion gave it to me. He put the money in a brand-new account registered solely to me, instead of keeping and managing it himself. Sometimes, it’s still hard to believe that he truly isn’t like my father, and that some of the things that seem normal to me aren’t healthy at all.

I’ve never had so much money at my disposal, and this little taste of freedom is addicting. I could do whatever I want with it. I could buy an outfit for my next concert without feeling guilty about spending Dion’s money… or I could do something far more outrageous and buy a house of my own. A safe haven, a place only I know, somewhere I could go when I need to escape.

For a split second, I imagine a life of true freedom, one where I’m not bound to the Windsors. I’d dance in the rain and travel through Europe by train, playing each abandoned piano I find, everyone entirely unaware of who I am, and how much they’d have to pay to see me play in concert. I’d pursue every passion, every interest, and I wouldn’t have to feel bad about it.

If I’d had this kind of money years ago, would I have run away? Unless Abigail came with me, I wouldn’t have been able to take the girls until they came of age, and I don’t think I could’ve left them behind. I bite my lip as I lock my phone. Could I save them still?

I’m snapped out of my thoughts when the doorbell rings. Moments later, Lauren leads a limping Chloe into the living room, and just like that, all my daydreams fade to dust — obliterated by the reality I can’t free her from.

“Chloe!”

She glares at me, and I freeze mid-step, confused by the venom she’s directing at me. “Faye,” she mutters, her expression conveying blame and condemnation.

My heart begins to beat out of my chest as guilt slowly seeps in, making my shoulders sag, my entire body responding to her silent accusations.

“You look great,” she whispers, her voice breaking. “I missed you, you know? I doubt you feel the same.”

“Of course I missed you too,” I rush to tell her. “I’ve been calling and texting you every day, but you’ve been so short with me, and I wasn’t sure what to do.”

I reach for her, only for her to flinch in pain the moment my hands brush against her shoulders. Chloe stumbles back and locks her jaw, tears rapidly gathering in her dark eyes. “What happened?” I ask, fearing her answer.

She carefully pushes back her sleeves, revealing countless bruises, each one of them punishment meant for me.

“What did you think would happen when Dion demanded that Dad give you the concert money?” she murmurs. “Of course he’d never hand it over without a single hint of complaint. Just what did you think we’d been living off?”

The implication behind her words slowly diffuses the guilt that threatens to overwhelm me. “I was always told my concerts barely make enough to cover the production costs and my student debts.” My voice is soft, a hint of disappointment ringing through despite my best attempts to suppress it.

Chloe’s eyes widen, and she looks away, as though she’s suddenly realizing she said something she shouldn’t have.

Father spent years telling me I wasn’t good enough to earn more than a basic salary, and that there wasn’t anything left after all the costs we incur just to put on the shows. I had my doubts every once in a while, but I knew better than to voice them. Chloe knew how much harm his words did, yet she hid the truth.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. “That amount of money could’ve changed everything for us — we could’ve been free from him, Chloe. We could’ve run, together.”

She looks disarmed for a moment, but then shakes her head and looks away. “It would have changed everything for you. I was happy at home, Faye. I didn’t want anything to change, and I definitely didn’t want to run away. Mom and Linda didn’t want to leave either. Your family is already broken, but ours isn’t.”

Her words cut deep, and I stumble back a step as I slowly digest her words, reading between the lines. She kept the truth from me because sustaining her lifestyle off my earnings was more important to her than my wellbeing. After all, Father never hurt her until recently. She essentially had it all at my expense. I’ve never seen her as anything but my sweet baby sister, but what am I to her?

“Dion may have ignored you in the past, but he clearly adores you now,” she tells me, her tone placating. “Why isn’t that enough? You don’t really need the money, do you? Not as much as we do.”

I stare at my little sister in disbelief. She wanted me to keep performing at an unsustainable level without earning a penny, because she benefitted from it. What hurts the most is that I would have.

“I didn’t ask Dion to interfere,” I tell her, my thoughts reeling. It’s almost like I can see the past through a different lens now, and it tainted the few precious memories I had. “You were there, Chloe. I didn’t say a word.”

“But you didn’t stop him either, nor did you drop by to see if we were okay when you knew how mad Dad would be. I barely replied to your text messages, and you didn’t care.”

Her voice is harsh, accusing, and normally it would have made me want to appease her. Today, her tone just further highlights her sense of entitlement. It’s odd that I never saw it before.

“I suppose in some ways, you left one controlling household to enter another, but at least Dion does it to protect you. He told us Windsor Tech makes all of your electronic devices, and he warned Dad against contacting you. He’s having all of your incoming communications monitored, so even if I wanted to say anything to you about the situation at home, I couldn’t.”

Shock renders me speechless for a moment, a hint of unease running down my spine. Dion can’t be monitoring me to that extent. He wouldn’t try to control me like my father did, would he?

“Dad even tried coming to your last concert to speak to you in person, but Dion bought the entire building and banned him from entering the premises. You can pretty much guess what happened next, can’t you? He came home and tore into Mom, breaking several of her bones. Because of you. Please, Faye, can’t you fix this? I just want things to go back to how they used to be, so please, just be the sister you’ve always been. Please, okay?”

My gaze roams over the girl I watched grow up, the one I’d have given the world for. I saw the signs, but I ignored every single one of them, because in that cold, lonely house, my sisters were all I had. I always knew I didn’t belong with them, that I never quite fit in, but I never could’ve imagined they knew the extent of what I was going through and turned a blind eye. It wasn’t just my father that was using me — it was all of them, and I’m not sure where that leaves me.