I Ran From My Ex, Straight Into My Best Friend’s Father
Novel Straight 121
121
bWe’re /bbboth /bstartled when the door leading to Tatiana’s wing opens. Right away, I let go of nnf, even taking ba /bbstep /bbback/bb. /bbI /bdon’t know why that’s my immediate reaction, but I can only guess at some lingering guilt. Tatiana says she’s okay with us being together, but that doesn’t mean I want to rub it in her face.
It’s not Tatiana who emerges, and a nce at nni reveals his frown of confusionb. /bb“/bIs everything alright?” bhe /basks Roger, who stops dead in his tracks at the sight of us.
“Oh, yes. She’s fine.”
A question is on the tip of my tongue… are they? No, Tatian would tell me, but then why is heing from her wing dressed in a t–shirt and sweatpants?
“It’s not what it looks like. I only wanted to check on her,” he exins.
I get this strange rumbling feeling in my stomach. Something’s off here. “You know what? I’m going to check in on her,” I tell Gianni. “I’ll be up in a little bit.”
“Tell her I said goodnight.” Gianni starts up the stairs without another word. Usually, he’d go straight to his office, so he really does n to take the night off.
Roger’s still standing in the doorway as I approach. “Okay. Tell me the truth. How is she, really? Because I swear, I can’t get a straight answer out of her no matter how hard I btry/bb./b”
He looks back over his shoulder toward her bedroom. Rogers known for hisck of emotion and feelings, yet I can see the concern etched into his features like stone. “She’s been having nightmares.”
I sigh, leaning against the door frame. “Of course she has been. Who wouldn’t?” I’ve had more than my share of them in the past few weeks.
“I happened to check in a few nights ago, when Sheryl asked me to take her some tea to help her sleep,” he exins. “I would’ve been on my way to my ce otherwise. I’m d things yed out the way they did, or she would’ve been alone. She was sobbing in her sleep and let out a horrid scream when I woke her up.‘
“}
“Jesus.” And here I am, floating on Cloud Nine while she’s suffering, slowly drowning in a pool of trauma.
“She doesn’t want anybody to know. Not you, not Gianni.b” /b
“I guess that would exin why she never told me, but I feel like she never tells me anything anymore,” I frown, hating that I admitted such a thing to Roger.
b“/bI’ve been sleeping in her office the past few nights,” he confesses. “I’d rather you not tell Gianni, please. I don’t want him to get the wrong idea. He’d rip my balls off and shove them down my throat if he thought…”
“But he should know,” I insist. “He needs to know. She’s being so damn stubborn. Hot
her if she won’t let us?”
are we supposed to help
“I don’t have a clue.” He runs a hand over his dark hair, sighing as he does. I get the feeling he cares more than he wants to let on. Maybe he feels sorry for her. Maybe if I wasn’t here, Gianni would have more time to put into helping her.
I can’t do that to myself, but I can’t help it, either.
“I’ll go in and say goodnight,” I offer. “Get a feel for how she’s doing.” Relief shes in his eyes, and he nods, like he wanted to do that but knew better. While things have eased up between them–she’s not ripping his head off the way she used to–there’s never any telling with her. I’ve never seen anybody’s mood change as quickly as hers does.
+15 bBONUS /b
bShe’s /bbwatching /bbsomething /bbon /bher bptop /bwhen I ease bthe /bdoor bopen/b, sitting bwith /bher back bto /bbthe /bheadboard. “Hey. bSorry /bif I’m interrupting.b” /b
bShe /bbrolls /bher beyes /band waves me inb. /b“Another true crime documentary, bI’m/bb, /blike, addicted to them now. Women getting revenge.”
b“/bbWe /bshould watch something together, in the living room. m not doing anything tomorrow.”
Lifting a shoulder, she turns her attention back to the screen. “I feel morefortable hereb./bb” /b
The impulse to argue with her leaves me biting my tongue. don’t want to fight, and that’s exactly what we’ll end up doing if I push any harder. This room is bing her tomb, full of used dishes. At least her bhair /blooks like bit’s /bbeen washed recently, which is a step up, and she’s wearing clean pajamas. Small miracles.
I wish I knew why she’s so against talking to a doctor.
I also wish I knew why she insists on having the sapphire blue urn on her nightstand. She catches me looking at it. “It’s pretty,” she murmurs. “And her ashes make me feel… safer, somehow.”
Her mother’s ashes make her feel safer? If only bI /bcould understand where her head is right now.
“I’m d you have them,” I venture, crossing the room so can sit on the edge of the bed. It urs to me that maybe I should’ve changed before I came in here rather than walking around in a dress that cost more than fused to pay in a month’s rent when I was living with Luciano.
E
“It’s sad. She didn’t even get a funeral or a service or anything. They just took her body to the funeral home, and she was cremated by some shady guy who was paid under the table.”
I doubt she had anybody in her life willing to attend a service. Tatiana, maybe. I would’ve gone with her for support. Otherwise?
Still, memorials, funerals, celebrations of life, they’re a sense of closure for the living and that’s something she’ll never get. “I could always put something together for her. Maybe scatter a handful of her ashes somewhere she loved to go.”
Tatiana snorts, “Like I would know where that is. She never told me anything about herself. I don’t even know why I care so much. It’s not like she cared about me.”
“She was your mom, babe. I’d be worried if you didn’t care. I ce a hand on her shoulder.
“I know she got what she deserved.” She wraps her arms around herself–jeez, she’s so thin, she needs to eat more–before hitting me with a knowing, almost angry lookb. /b“And before you tell me one more time to talk to a professional, how am I supposed to talk about any of this? Gee, doc, my mom set it up so my best friend would get kidnapped. She wanted to ruin my father’s life and help his enemy take control of his illegal businesses. Only she had her brains blown out, instead. Oh, and surprise, she couldn’t even have a funeral because the whole damn thing needs to be kept a secret.”
Okay, when she puts it that way, I can see why she’s hesitant to talk with a doctor. “Okay, so you don’t have to talk specifically about that,” I murmur while a narrator drones on about the details of a grisly murder. “But you should at least talk about Christopher and what happened in Europe. I’m not saying to go into specifics about how your mom died, either. You can talk about, you know, how strained your rtionship was and-”
“Look, I get it. Okay? You don’t have to beat a dead horse.”
“I wasn’t trying to.” I’ve already pushed too hard. Damn it. There is no winning with her.
Her gaze flicks over my dress. b“/bDid you have a good time tonight?”
15 BONUS
“Yesb, /bbwe /bwent to dinner.” bI /bsmile, though it feels strangely bawkward /bto be doing so.
bThat’s /bgood. It must have been a nice ce bif /byou’re so dressed up.”
“Your dad bought the ce out for the night to ensure nobody else was there. Can’t take any chances b” /b“Nob, /byou wouldn’t want to do that. Not with the baby and everythingb./bb” /b
I want to crawl out of my skin, I’m so ufortable. On the surface, there’s nothing wrong with what she’s saying, but I know her too well to be fooled. There’s resentiment dripping from every word; all I want to do is tell her I’m sorry. I’m not even sure what I’m sorry for or what is that’s really bothering her. Is it the baby on the way, the fact that I happen to be the baby’s mother? The fact that I’m happy while she’s sinking lower and lower? Maybe all of itbined.
I’m sure she wouldn’t give me a straight answer even if I asked. I would have to be brave enough to ask first, which I’m definitely not. Not even close..
“Do you want to have a girls‘ day maybe tomorrow?” I probably know the answer already, but I have to try.” Maybe we could go shopping.”
She cringes, “For baby stuff?”
“I was actually thinking more like clothes, and you know it’s been a while since I went to the bookstore.”
She nibbles on her bottom lip almost nervously. “I don’t know. People and crowds mixed with me don’t seem that appealing right now.”
“Then we can hang around the house. Whatever makes youfortable.” The air is thick with tension, and I can feel her pulling away from me, but I don’t want to let go. I can’t.
“I don’t need you hovering over me, all right? I’m just fine here, in my room, not bothering anyone. What’s the big deal?”
“There’s no big deal,” I whisper. “Just, you know, I’m here. And I want to see you and spend time with you. I love you. You know that, right?”
Her head bobs up and down, only there’s no light in her eyes when she finally looks at me. “I know. I love you, too.”
Right now, that’s probably as good as it’s going to get. “Okay. I’m going to go to bed: I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You know where to find me.” I want to say something else anything, so long as we don’t leave things like this. But the moment is over too soon. She turns up the volume on theptop, drowning out whatever I was wanting to
say.
What bothers me the most as I leave the room, closing the door on her misery, is knowing I would’ve sailed straight up the stairs with Gianni and not thought about her at all if it hadn’t been for Roger popping up.
I can’t me her if she does hate me, but I also can’t help her if she doesn’t want me to, either. It’s a double- edged sword piercing me through the heart whenever I think about her.
15 bBONUS /b
GIANNI
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