Mrs. Roy Part 2

Jon gets up, flips through the book, and walks slowly around the room. I watch him closely, seeing the handsome man he has become. He is practically a copy of Jonathan: tall, slim, with an intense gaze and short black hair. I wonder where he would be if his life hadn’t taken such a dark turn. He would probably be thinking about college or girls, of which I’m sure there would be no shortage due to his natural charm. Or traveling, exploring the world, having new experiences. But that’s not the direction his life took. He has been locked in a penal sanatorium for five years, diagnosed with a severe mental disorder, exhibiting antisocial and immoral behaviors, with no display of remorse or regret for the crimes he committed.
Jon doesn’t love and has no deep emotional ties with those related to him, exhibiting extreme egocentrism and an utter inability to learn from the experiences he has lived. Jon is considered a risk to himself and to others around him, which is why he spends most of his time alone in a cell that Jonathan had built specifically for him within the sanatorium, giving Jon at least some comfort and dignity, as it would be the only place he would know for the rest of his life. That was the price Jonathan paid to keep Jon safe and alive. If Jon were judged in a court, with reporters speculating about the murders he committed and journalists rummaging through the Roy family's secrets, that would make Jonathan, Baby, and Jon targets. This would force Sodoma to do the cleaning, to ensure the confidentiality of its patrons, cutting the evil at its roots and silencing mouths, blinding eyes, and plugging ears. Jon wouldn’t last a year if sentenced to federal prison, and Jonathan knew that.
Sodoma always wins, one way or another.
And Jonathan guaranteed her victory and Jon's safety, paying billions of dollars to have his nephew’s case dismissed before it even started, sending him to the SHIT sanatorium.
“ So, what do I owe the honor of your visit? Uncle doesn’t like to talk much about you when he comes to see me...” Jon turns and closes the book, staring at me. “— I even asked him for a photo of you, but you know how he is!”
I take a deep breath and shrug, as if I could feel Jonathan’s gaze piercing through the security mirror of the room, hitting me with intensity.
“ Jon, your uncle and I, we...”
“How many months along are you?” he cuts me off and walks closer to the glass wall, lowering his eyes to my belly. “— It wasn’t the coat he gave you, but rather your tired breathing and haggard look.”
Jon raises his eyes to me and stares seriously, tilting his face onto his shoulder while spreading his hands against the glass.
“ How did you manage this feat, Gim? As far as I remember, my uncle can’t have kids.” He smiles and gives me a mocking look. “— Don’t tell me you’ve been cheating, you little minx...”
“ No, Jon, I haven’t been cheating,” I reply quietly, shaking my head in denial. “— Jonathan and I opted for artificial insemination; I’m entering my fourth month of pregnancy.”
I uncross my arms and slowly open the buttons of my coat, allowing him to see my belly, which is starting to take on a rounded shape.
“ Really?!” he asks, laughing as he looks at my stomach. “— It must suck not being man enough to impregnate your own wife, don’t you think, uncle?!” Jon raises his eyes to the mirror and speaks loudly.
“ Jon, I didn’t come here to discuss your uncle’s fertility but rather about the sperm donor...”
Jon returns his gaze to me and studies my face, then my belly. He takes a step back and arches an eyebrow.
“Abomination,” he says quickly, showing disgust in his eyes. “— You’re here to tell me that what’s growing in your belly is from the abomination that made me?!”
“ Jon, please don’t talk like that...”
“ What should I call him, Ginger? Cousin, brother?” He grinds his teeth and crushes his fingers against his body. “— Aren’t you afraid of bringing another demon into the world, just as sick as the first one she birthed? You’ve always been stupid, Ginger... The love you feel for the monsters in this family has blinded you.” He raises his voice and steps forward, punching the glass that separates us, shouting with pure hatred as he gives me a cruel look.
My body jumps in fear, and I take a step back at his reaction. I hear the alarm in the room sound loudly as the security door is unlocked almost immediately. Jon retreats and takes a step back, looking over my shoulders. I feel strong fingers carefully gripping my shoulder and heavy breaths blowing on top of my head.
“ Always stupid, Ginger!” Jon says dryly and turns his back, walking to the back of his room.
“Come on, let me get you out of here!” I raise my face to Jonathan and see his cold gaze, which he keeps fixed on Jon, positioning his body behind me like a sentinel.
“ Roy...” I murmur sadly, feeling so much pain inside my heart.

“I'm warning you that there's nothing left of that boy you met here, Gim,” Jonathan whispers to me, lowering his eyes to mine, softening when he sees a tear roll down my cheeks.
“Are you going to forget me?” I move my neck, resting my gaze on the sad face whispering beside me, in a tone just loud enough for me to hear. Jon brings the juice cup to his mouth, his headphones off, resting on the back of his neck and hanging around his shoulders.
“Never,” I whisper back to him, slowly bumping my shoulder against his, watching him let out a small smile at the corner of his lips.
Of everything I experienced inside that mansion, of everything I learned, I think the only thing I still can’t let go of is the very real love I felt for that young boy, even knowing it was just a mask of Jon's: the innocence, the naivety, and the sadness. Everything was false and manipulated by him. But still, the affection I felt for him is etched in my soul forever. I turn my eyes back to Jon and see him with his back to me, squeezing his fingers tighter by his side.
“Gim, let's go!” Jonathan holds me more gently and turns me slowly.
“I'll never forget you, Jon!” I turn my face over my shoulder and say to him before Jonathan pulls me out of the room. I leave crying, hiding my face in his chest.