Previously on Daughter:
Sara's world continues to unravel in the wake of her mother's infidelity, leaving fractures in her relationships with her father, brother, and husband.
She wrestles with new and unsettling thoughts about marriage, monogamy, and fidelity, ideas seeded by her mother's radical redefinition of love and commitment.
Emotions flared between Jon and Sara during their discussion at home. He confronts her on her silence, her values, and... most alarmingly... her questions about open relationships.
For the first time in their marriage, trust between them feels fragile.
******
Chapter 04 | (Mis) Beliefs Challenged!
MONDAY April 15 2024 | 5 AM | Day After the Brunch
Sara spun across the flowered field with joyful abandon. Arms outstretched, drawing in deep lungfuls of the bright floral scented air. Morning light kissed the mountaintops in the distance while she moved gracefully through the sea of sunflowers. The greens and yellows, though muted, brightened as the morning rolled across them.
Her golden hair flowed impossibly past her ankles and melded into her pristine white dress, which billowed endlessly behind her as a gusty breeze overtook the meadow. Flowers smiled as they swayed and danced in appreciation. Their soft leaves and thick stems brushing across her uplifted arms and hands as she continued forward.
A jolt of excitement ran through her body as she heard a playful gurgling up ahead.
"Ooh.... water! Maybe I can dip my feet in..." she thought, running forward.
Stopping by the bank of the brook, the breeze caught wisps of her hair and feathered it across Sara's face. She soaked in the surrounding beauty... the vibrant blue water, the sweet, crisp air, all beneath the dense, arching branches of a magnificent tree.
The thick branches swayed gently, and a soft creaking, like distant whispers, reached her ears in greeting. The term mighty oak surfaced in her mind, as if whispered by the tree itself. A shiver ran down her spine as she stepped back.
The oak pulsed with life, and its branches reached out for her like a mother's welcoming arms. Something about it felt familiar... comforting...
Brushing her hair aside, she turned back towards the flowers, bringing a flower down to her face, hoping to inhale its bright scent... But her head pulled back in surprise... the flower had no scent... the vivid colors around her were fading to gray.
The flowers wilting... their faces turning away from her, just as her father had turned from her at the diner...
The once cool breeze.... buzzed in her ears, a relentless pattern that disrupted the tranquility. Carrying a sense of urgency across the field... accompanied by words... Was the tree reaching out again?
Grasping at the vanishing flowers with both hands, Sara groaned as the field and her dress blurred away.
Her eyes flickered open in the darkness. The dream's last wisp of floral scent evaporated, replaced by the relentless buzz of the alarm.
She was curled up in a fetal position, cozy and warm, nestled under her blue chambray flannel sheets and bright navy down blanket. The colors were a solid choice for winter, but Sara would soon change them out for brighter spring tones. She was in no rush though, as Jon loved the way her soft blonde hair spread across the gray sheets when they made love.
"Ava. Shut the alarm!" said Sara, flipping the blankets off her face.
"Alarm off," replied her cell.
She nestled back into the warmth. The blanket muffled the sound of raindrops, which were pelting against her bedroom window, mimicking a tribal beat. She let the sound cascade across her body before shifting onto her back. Her right hand reaching for Jon, but only found the coolness of the sheets, a stark reminder of his absence. "Shit," she thought, as the wave of regret washed over her... "it was real."
Curling her body towards Jon's side, she grabbed and crushed his pillow into her chest, breathing in his lingering scent.
Last night's memories flooded back... sitting alone on the balcony, bundled under a blanket, wineglass in hand, staring at the dark, heavy sky as the storm clouds rolled in.
She let go of the pillow and checked her watch. 5 am. Much earlier than she would have normally awoken for work on a Monday, but she wanted to get a text out to Jon before his flight. She turned back towards her side and pushed her legs out of the blanket as she sat up. Grabbing her phone, her fingers blurred in communication over the smooth glass.
>>>>"Morning! Missed your warm body in bed... 😞,"
>>"Morning Sara."
"Well, that was cold," thought Sara, her fingers responding.
>>>>"Yesterday sucked. I don't like the way we left it between us."
>>"I know. Important for us to get through. We need to be sure this is what we want. Heal our current family to build our future family. Don't want doubts or regrets about our marriage to hang over us like a dark cloud."
Sara's fingers hesitated before responding...
>>>>"I understand. Thankful we are doing this together..."
>>"For sure. Boarding, gotta go 🛫."
>>>>"Have a safe flight! ✈️✈️✈️ Love you! ❤️❤️❤️,"
>>"🥰"
Sara smiled. The brief interaction left her feeling better than she felt last night, but far from satisfied. Fumbling out of bed in her comfortable fuzzy pajamas, she walked into the bathroom and took care of her morning needs.
Leaving the bed unmade, she walked out and into the kitchen to prepare coffee and warm up the leftover portion of her omelet. She ate in silence, checking the day's schedule on her phone. Three direct meetings with clients and an internal to discuss next quarters marketing strategies. One in the late morning, the others in the afternoon. Being the marketing director for three core global brands at the agency allowed her leeway around her working hours. She would take a long shower and make it in by 10.
After cleaning up the kitchen and tossing her pajamas in the hamper, Sara stepped into the shower. Hot was definitely on the menu... hotter than Jon liked, and hopefully hot enough to burn through her melancholy.
Sara lathered the liquid soap in her loofah and began soaping her body, imagining it was Jon caressing her from behind with his firm hands, building a lather for her as he massaged her body from scalp to toe. He loved to run his hand down her flat tummy and playfully fluff her curly pubic hair with his fingers. It excited her when he would reach down and firmly cup her vagina, while gently nibbling on her neck. She would press her body onto his chest, then turn her head, seeking his mouth... allowing the hot water to cascade across her body to set her off... but not today... just thinking about a week without those touches made her chest ache.
Instead, she fell back against the cool tiles as the water lost its warmth, her excitement sinking down the drain.
"This was going to be a long week." She thought, picking up her shaver.
The shower and sexy thoughts of Jon lifted her spirits a bit. She finished rinsing her body and realized she could no longer ignore thinking about yesterday.
But everything about yesterday sucked... it would have been easier to just strangle her mother from the beginning. She shook her head, imaging herself in prison orange.
Drying herself in front of the mirror. She met her reflection, searching for the woman Jon had married. The woman her father had raised. The woman she thought she'd become.
She spent the next hour fixing her hair and applied some light makeup. Mostly eyeliner. She picked a dark gray pant suit that perfectly fit her mood, grabbed her bag, umbrella, comfy winter coat, and was out the door.
****
TUESDAY April 16 2024 | 2 AM | San Francisco
The dimly lit hotel room was quiet. Even the drunken laughter in the hallway had died down hours ago.
Jon lay back on the hotel bed, staring at the ceiling. "Distance was supposed to help," he thought. Instead, it just made him restless."
Today had been a full day of group meetings, platform training sessions and the late team dinner. They ended the night with a round at the hotel bar before Jon called it a night. He'd been laying here for the last two hours.
Every time he closed his eyes, Sara was there... sitting at the kitchen island, voice shaking, fingers clenching her coffee mug. "Do you ever think about sharing me?"
His chest tightened. Not because he thought she truly wanted someone else, but because she had considered it. And that meant something. It had to.
She had questioned their marriage without telling him. That silence... that erosion of trust... felt too damn familiar.
Sara isn't my mother. And I'm not my father.
But his childhood had taught him one thing: secrets were a slow rot that destroyed even the strongest bonds.
Jon got up and pushed his body back to lean against the headboard, rubbing a hand over his jaw. The exhaustion sat heavy in his bones, but sleep refused to come. No amount of distance could keep the same thoughts from circling in his head.
His cell was beside him on the nightstand, face down. He knew there was a text from Sara waiting there.
He hadn't responded yet. He didn't know what to say.
