Hitting the Bottom Ch. 11

Story Info
A new beginning (final chapter).
8.6k words
4.79
17.6k
16

Part 11 of the 11 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 02/13/2014
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

Author's note:

Thank you to my co-creator and editor, the Brit. This story's been a hell of a ride, and I'm grateful that we got to ride it together! xoxo

In previous chapters:

Dan, a cop, had attempted suicide after assaulting his ex-wife/sub, and ended up at the hospital, where he met Nurse Sandra.

Interested to find out what happens to a Dom after hitting his bottom? Go back to Chapter One and start reading...

In this chapter: what do you think?!

~~~~~~~

Standing outside the Matsakis' front door, unannounced, at 10am on a sunny October Friday morning, I try to steady my nerves as I reach for the bell. The movement causes my mother's ring, nestled in my shirt pocket, to prickle my chest right over my galloping heart. Gripping the pot filled with a bright flower arrangement in my other arm, I'm thankful to have chosen the traditional clay over the more sophisticated porcelain or glassware; if nothing else, its coarse surface is less likely to slip from my sweaty palms.

"Just a minute, I'm coming!"

Mrs. Matsakis sounds hurried as she shuffles to the door. She swings it wide open, not bothering with the peephole, and then freezes in place when she sees me, her welcoming smile waning.

"Dan. I - what are you doing here?" She looks over my shoulder and then adds - "Sandra isn't with you? Is everything alright?"

In the space of a few seconds her tone had gone from surprise to obvious alarm, and I'm quick to dispel her concern.

"Yes, all's good with Sandra, I promise, Mrs. Matsakis. I just wanted to speak with you and your husband and hoped to catch you both at home. My apologies for not calling beforehand... would you be willing to spare me a few minutes, please?"

"Who is it, Maria?"

Mr. Matsakis' gruff voice sounds from upstairs, and his wife looks undecided for a moment before stepping aside and letting me in, gesturing towards her kitchen, and closes the door behind me.

"Excuse me for a moment. I'll be right back."

Not waiting my reply, Mrs. Matsakis turns and walks over to the stairs climbing to the second floor. I watch as she disappears upstairs, and then, realizing I can't just stand there at the doorway, I follow her unspoken direction and enter the kitchen to wait for her.

Looking around I take in the hallmarks of a large, lively clan being raised and fed in this very room. The huge family table, and those stacks of plates and bowls piled high on shelves, enough to feed eighteen people in one sitting. The six-burner stovetop, with its array of pots and pans hanging on the walls on both sides of it. And the extra-large refrigerator, chosen as much for its surface area where family photos and kids' drawings are proudly displayed, as for its storage capacity.

In my mind, I compare it to the smaller, always-pristine kitchen at my parents' home, and the formal dining room where the three of us had taken our meals. Unwilling to wallow in my own sob story, I force my imagination to conjure up Sandra as a little girl in blonde pigtails and missing two front teeth, skipping around this spacious room as her mama cooked, or sitting at the table chatting excitedly with her siblings over dinner.

I know which of the two experiences I'd like to create for our child. Hopefully. Breathing deep I make myself stand tall. I have a mission to carry out, and it's not going to be easy. I'd better keep my head for this.

"Dan."

Mr. Matsakis' deep voice pulls me back to the here and now, and I turn around to see the tall, distinguished-looking man enter the kitchen, his limp more pronounced than I remembered, followed closely by his wife.

He doesn't offer his hand for a shake, but rather gestures with his head that I should take a seat, and I know I have my work cut out for me. Before I take a chair, however, I turn to Mrs. Matsakis.

"These are for you, Ma'am."

A brief half-smile passes across her face but quickly disappears.

"Thank you. They're lovely."

Taking the pot from me she places it in the middle of the table, and then wipes her hands on her apron.

"Shall we all sit?"

We each take a spot; Mr. Matsakis at the head of the table, his wife to his right, and myself to his left, facing her.

"Go ahead." Mr. Matsakis doesn't bother with niceties. I take a deep breath.

"I came to ask for your blessing."

They both gasp in surprise, looking at each other and then back at me as if I've just sprouted an extra head.

"You can't be serious." Mr. Matsakis says flatly, and Mrs. Matsakis puts a calming hand on his forearm and catches my gaze.

"Why?"

Her question is so unexpected, I just stare at her. After several long moments have passed in awkward silence she speaks again, her voice somewhat kinder.

"Sandra is thirty years old, Dan. She's an adult, an independent woman. Obviously, this is her decision to make, and I have a feeling that you'll ask her anyways, regardless of our answer." She raises her eyebrows, pinning me with her look, and at my curt, thin-lipped nod, she continues. "Why then even ask? When you know how we feel, given the circumstances, why put yourself - put us - in this situation?"

Maybe it's the tone of her voice, which sounds perplexed rather than accusatory, that allows me to lower my guard and answer truthfully.

"Because I know what it's like, to marry against your family's wishes. It's heartbreaking, and if I can save Sandra from that pain, I will."

"You can save her from it by not marrying her." Mr. Matsakis doesn't budge.

"Not an option." I bite my lips to keep from using the one card I know would likely sway their minds; but doing so would effectively take away Sandra's decision on the matter. I keep my mouth resolutely shut.

Sandra's parents share a silent look, and then Mrs. Matsakis drops her gaze, staring at her own fingers fumbling together. After several awkward seconds, she looks up, and quietly admits -

"I met with Ada."

I barely notice Mr. Matsakis deep scowl over the rush of blood in my ears. Sandra's mother spoke with Naomi's sister?!

Beyond my shock, there's a strange, unexpected tug in my chest, and I realize I've missed my ex-sister-in-law. Over the years she'd taken their deceased parents' place as the head of Naomi's family, and we'd spent more than one holiday dinner together, have celebrated birthdays and anniversaries with Ada and her husband and kids, have attended family events together... Ada's friendly manner and her no-nonsense approach to life had always put me at ease.

"I - how come?"

Mrs. Matsakis shrugs. "It's a small town. It didn't take long to ask around and find out that your ex-wife had an older sister who's a high-school teacher, too. Although I'd retired a few years back and she teaches with the other school on the west side of town, still it was simple to get her number. I called and asked to meet. She gladly obliged."

It is only now I notice Mr. Matsakis expression. He looks flabbergasted as he stares at his wife, mouth agape. Mrs. Matsakis notices, too, but she only waves her hand dismissively at him.

"Really, Theodore, did you expect anything else from me? You knew I would get to the bottom of this."

I half-expect a strongly-worded rebuke, judging by the old man's dark expression, but then he simply closes his mouth and nods curtly, accepting, it seems, his wife's right to do what she thought was needed to be done, even if he didn't like it.

I clear my throat. "Ehm, how is Ada?"

"She's very well. Seems happy about her sister's upcoming wedding."

Mrs. Matsakis doesn't hide her close scrutiny watching for my reaction, and I can see some of the tension leave her shoulders when I simply nod.

"Yes, I know. I'm happy for Naomi, too." the churn in my gut mellows as that truth resonates inside me, leaving me slightly breathless. I am happy for her.

"Then how come you beat her up just months ago, when you heard she had a new boyfriend?!"

Mr. Matsakis voice thunders across the table, hitting me full force. His hands are tightly fisted, shaking with his barely-contained rage. His wife places her palm on his forearm again, but he shakes it off impatiently.

"He beat her up, Maria. He assaulted the woman he said he loved. How can you be so calm?!"

"Theo, please. Lucas told us what happened. God knows, in this family, we should know better than to judge a person by their sickness, horrific as their actions may have been."

But Mr. Matsakis seems only aggravated by his wife's gentle words. "How can you even say that? How can you compare Helena's situation with post-partum and all to - to - to this?!"

If I'd expected Sandra's mother to cower before her husband's wrath, I'm in for a surprise. The woman seems to grow before my very eyes, her spine straightening and hardening as she sits tall and glares back at her husband.

"Oh, so one type of depression - the kind that leads you to attempt to murder your newborn baby - that kind deserves your compassion, but another kind doesn't?!"

Mr. Matsakis gasps, but his wife is on a roll. "Well, respectfully, Theo, that's bullshit. I spoke with Ada. She'd known Dan here for over a decade. She told me he was a decent man, a good man, who had made her sister very happy - for most of their marriage, at least. She did tell me the last couple of years had been strained, what with their trying and failing for kids, and that they eventually split over that. But she said that he'd been fair to a fault with Naomi throughout the divorce process; that it was clear it was as hard a decision for him as it was for her sister - maybe harder, she said, judging by how miserable he seemed the few times she saw him after."

Red-faced, I fidget uncomfortably in my seat, and cough a couple of times, at a loss for words at this unexpected, heated defense of my character by my ex-sister-in-law - and by the passionate way Mrs. Matsakis had delivered it.

The older couple stop their staring match for a moment to throw me a cursory look, but then they return to each other.

"Are you saying you're willing to risk our daughter's well-being because this man was once a good guy - before he went on to assault his own ex-wife?"

Mr. Matsakis raises his chin as he issues his challenge, but his fury had clearly dissipated, leaving behind the kind of stubborn protectiveness I could relate to only too well.

His wife notices, too, and her tight face relaxes into a gentle smile. I can see her love to her husband - and to Sandra - shine through when she speaks next.

"I'm saying people may do truly horrific things when they're sick, but that doesn't mean they are horrible people; nor does it mean they can never heal."

Gesturing at me with her chin, she adds - "When I see this man humbling himself by coming here, begging for our blessing, knowing it would mean getting bashed, but doing it anyways, because it would save our daughter from heartache... when Lucas tells me he'd been religious in getting the treatment he needs... when Ada tells me that for forty-odd years he'd been a good man, except for that one sin..."

She blinks, as if fighting back tears, and continues with conviction. "I'm saying I won't stand in my daughter's way; nor would I make her life choices for her. Sandra knows Dan better than any one of us. If she decides to marry him, then I trust her judgment, and I'd do anything in my power to make sure they're happy together. If that means giving them my blessing, then by God, I will."

Several seconds tick by as the older couple stare each other down, while I hold my breath. Finally, Mr. Matsakis gives a curt nod, though his lips are thinned to an almost invisible line.

"Very well, then." He mutters gruffly, and then looks up to catch my eyes in a fierce stare.

"I will give you my blessing, young man. But I'll be watching you like a hawk. If you so much as lay a finger on my daughter in anger, if you do anything to harm her..."

I nod even before he finishes. "I know, sir. And I respect that."

Looking back at Mrs. Matsakis, who smiles at her husband through her tears, I reach instinctively to squeeze her wrinkled hand in mine.

"Thank you, Mrs. Matsakis. I promise I will spend the rest of my life making your daughter happy."

To my astonishment, Mr. Matsakis' hand came to blanket my own warmly.

"You do that, son. You do that, and you'll always be welcome at our home."

I blink furiously and need to swallow several times to push down the lump in my throat before I manage to croak out -

"Thank you. Thank you both."

I'm swamped with childish longing for the kind of parents I'd never had. Pushing it down resolutely as all three of us finally withdraw our hands to lean back in our chairs, I focus my mind on Sandra, and am thankful that she, at least, had them.

They would make wonderful grandparents.

Reluctantly, I get up. "I need to go. I asked Lucas to meet me at noon, and I don't want to be late."

Sandra's parents both smile as they rise to their feet. "Making the rounds, are you?" Mr. Matsakis asks wryly, and I shrug and nod.

"I guess so. I want this to be perfect for Sandra."

We walk over to the door together, and once there Mrs. Matsakis surprises me by pulling me in for a tight hug, and then kisses me on both cheeks. "God bless, Dan."

Her husband reaches out his hand, and I take it, feeling the squeeze at my heart. "Good luck, Dan."

With a final nod I take my leave, my steps a hundred times lighter than they were on my way up these same stairs. I got Sandra's parents blessing to ask for her hand in marriage. Now all I had to do was set up the stage, make sure there were safety nets in place just in case... and then, it would be up to Sandra.

Trust and hope.

*

*

*

"Thanks for meeting me. I appreciate it."

Standing up, I offer my hand to Lucas. Sandra's older brother hesitates before accepting my gesture, his grip firm, and tightens further, holding onto my hand without letting go.

"Knowing what's at stake between you and my sister, there was no way I could refuse. What's going on, Dan?"

A polite cough breaks our impromptu stand-off and Lucas releases me to take his seat across the table. The waitress pulls out her order pad.

"Can I get you two anything to drink first?"

"Coffee and a glass of water for me, please. Lucas?"

"Water's fine, thanks."

Sensing the charged atmosphere between us the young woman makes a hasty retreat, and I am left to face Lucas's stare on my own.

"Talk to me."

Lucas's voice is pained, and I can guess at the source of it: feeling powerless to protect your loved ones is hell, especially to certain take-charge types of men. I should know. I hope what I'm about to ask of him will make him feel a little better.

"I need your help."

Lucas raises his eyebrows, but remains silent.

"I'm going to propose to Sandra today, and I want her to feel free to give me an honest answer. So I'd like for you to be there, to let her know she's safe to make her choice either way."

Lucas absorbs my words mutely for several long moments, and I am left to try to guess at his reaction from the way his lips thin to a grim line and his jaw muscles work under his tight, bronzed skin. Finally he speaks, his voice low:

"So, she's keeping her baby then?"

I meet and hold his gaze. "I don't know yet."

Lucas inhales sharply, his nostrils flaring. "I see."

He tears his eyes away from mine to look at the falling leaves floating in the air at the park outside the cafe's glass walls. After a while he nods to himself, and then returns to look at me.

"When and where do you need me to be?"

"Right here in this coffee shop, at four this afternoon. But sit outside so that you can see the bakery's outdoor terrace across the lawn. That's where we're going to sit."

Lucas nods somberly. "I'll be here."

"Thank you. I appreciate it." I offer, trying for a smile even though I know I'm too tense to manage it.

"I'm not doing it for you. I'm doing it for my sister." The muscle jumps in his jaw again.

"I know. That's what I'm thanking you for.

With only the briefest of nods Lucas acknowledges my words and then stands up. "I'll be here at four. I hope to God Sandra makes the right choice."

I actually smile at that. "You and I both."

Lucas grunts something under his breath, and then turns and walks away.

*

*

*

Arranging the rest of my little production is easy. All that's left is walking across to the bakery to reserve the right table out on the terrace, and then calling Jon to let him know I'll need him there, too. He assures me that, as always, he'd have my back. Bless him.

On my way to my apartment I stop at Mr. Sharas' to get a proper haircut and shave. When he hears what's the occasion, he tries to return my payment, and finally agrees to accept it on condition that for my wedding I'll come get a free cut, as a gift from him.

I make one more detour before heading home, and swing by Dr. Pappas's office. I had called ahead to cancel my appointment, knowing I'd be too wound up to do any real work today, but now I feel like I could use his reassurance. His admin smiles at me and motions for me to step into his office as soon as I come in, and I feel the tight nerves in my belly unwind a bit.

"Glad to see you could make it, after all."

Dr. Pappas smiles at me, and strides over to put his hand on my shoulder and propel me towards the empty chairs. I dig in my heels, and he releases me to look up in surprise.

"Or maybe not?"

I shake my head. "I can't stay for the whole session."

"Oh?"

His typical, mildly-voiced non-question makes me smile. "But I've found that I couldn't go ahead with my plan without getting your explicit blessing. Which is what I'm here for."

Dr. Pappas tilts his head, considering me. "I'm not sure whether to be flattered or disappointed." Then he adds with unconcealed curiosity: "Wanna tell me about that plan of yours?"

"Yeah, I do." I smile nervously, fervently wishing inside that he'd give me the answer I'm looking for. "I'm going to propose to Sandra this afternoon."

"Ah." Dr. Pappas mulls over my declaration. "And you need my blessing because...?"

"Well, because I'm not at all sure she'd say 'yes'. And while I think I'd handle a different answer okay, hearing it from you would be... reassuring."

"Hmm."

Dr. Pappas shoves his hands in his pockets and turns his back on me, walking over to his window. He looks out for a while as I stand there, waiting, trying not to get annoyed at the good doctor. Is it too much to ask of my shrink to show some moral support?!

Finally he turns back to me, and I am shocked to realize the reason he had turned away: his eyes are more than a little misty and red-rimmed, as if he's about to cry. But his smile is genuine when he slowly walks back to me, and without uttering a word puts his arms around me for a tight hug.

After a moment, I return it, and then we both draw back. With one look at my face, Dr. Pappas barks a laugh and reaches to the box of tissues on the low coffee table, offering it to me while taking one to himself, and we both take a moment to clumsily mop at our less-than-manly tears.

When we've both composed ourselves, Dr. Pappas reaches up to squeeze my upper arms.

"It's going to be fine, Dan. I have full confidence in you. Now go, I'm sure you have more important things to do than hang out with me at the clinic right now."

"Yeah, I do, actually." I chuckle my relief, and step back. "Thank you, doc. I promise to call and let you know how it all went, later on tonight."