Chapter 8
ROMI
“You made it.” Sienna's chair screeches along the floor as she pushes it back. She seems surprised and excited that I made it to our regular coffee meetup. It’s especially unusual for her to be here early.
Ara sits across from her and next to Elanee Lane. I drop Borris’s leash, and he immediately struts over to the barista, who makes welcoming cooing noises at him. The little stud is such a womanizer, and they have a secret stash of treats just for him.
“I told you I’d be here.” I raise one finger to the barista, who smiles sweetly, indicating my regular chai latte order.
Since everything that’s happened, this is the first time I’ve made the effort to join them for our weekly meetup since Lorraine’s passing, despite Sienna’s insistent calls and random drop-ins.
It hasn’t felt the same since Lily left.
Although I’m happy she’s moved to Italy and made the choice for herself after a lifetime of appeasing her family, it won’t ever be the same without her light in the group.
With Sienna due to fly to London over the next week to pursue her first acting gig, it feels as if everyone is moving on, and my personal stagnation is a glaring truth.
I take the seat beside Sienna, and she immediately acts as if nothing has changed.
For that, I’m grateful. I'm becoming tired of the way people tiptoe around me. The only one who doesn’t do it, surprisingly, is my new roommate.
Although he has no reason to, because he doesn’t know what I was like before, though it is rather refreshing—no matter how irritating he is.
“Ara was just saying she and Luca have been arguing about baby names,” Sienna tells me, trying to include me in the conversation. “It’s not surprising he’s being so rigid about the name choices, all of which are boy names.”
“Oh, you’re having a boy?” Elanee asks, taking a sip of her tea.
“No. Well, we don't know. I personally have a feeling it’s a girl, but I decided to keep the gender as a surprise, knowing how much it irritates Luca when he’s not in control,” Ara says with a mischievous smile, then looks over to her bodyguard.
None of us has questioned it because Luca seems like the intense, overprotective type. And maybe there’s more to it, but I, for one, make a point to stay out of people's business unless they ask for help.
“And what about you, Sienna? Are you excited for London?” Elanee asks.
Sienna breaks out into a brilliant smile. “I’m so excited to see Michael. I think the distance has really been straining us lately, but once we’re reunited, it’ll be fine, and we can start actually planning this wedding.”
I haven’t had anything nice to say about Michael for some time.
Their engagement happened quickly, and ever since, with his acting gigs in various parts of the world and Sienna remaining mostly here for her modeling, the two have barely seen one another.
Bit by bit, she’s tried to mold herself around his schedule.
I stopped voicing my concern months ago because she’ll turn black and blue defending their great love.
“That’s really nice. I’m sure he’s excited you two can live with one another for a few months, and what a great opportunity for your career,” Elanee says, as if reading the fact that neither Ara nor I have any supportive words.
“How about you and Dmitri, Elanee? Anything new?” Sienna asks enthusiastically.
“No, we’re just enjoying our time together around our busy schedules.
There are still plenty of people who are looking for a marriage that comes along in a pretty package, so business is booming in that regard, and although Dmitri is supposed to be gradually easing into work after his brain surgery, he’s thrown himself straight back in. ”
We all grow quiet for a moment. That very much sounds like Dmitri Volkov. Though, it’s nice to see the former playboy settle down, especially with someone gentle like Elanee. I can only imagine what it might’ve been like for them when they discovered the tumor, and the events after that.
“What about you, Romi? I heard you have a new roommate,” Elanee asks, always quick to divert the conversation from herself. She’s always been rather reserved, and I respect it. Except for when she turns the attention to me.
“Ooh, yes, tell us more about the person who moved in. Is it going well?” Sienna asks.
I circle the rim of my cup with my index finger, thinking about how to answer.
Dante is somehow connected to the group from Lily and Lorenzo’s going-away party.
It was the first time I’d ever seen him, and although I could’ve asked more about his connection, I decided not to because I don’t want to grow curious about him. Distance is always best.
Right now, he serves a purpose by keeping my friends off my back, paying rent, and being useful to fuck when I need to take my mind off of things. Well, when he’s not trying to pry into my life, that is.
Like last night.
And the asshole had the audacity to leave four times the amount of rent on the kitchen counter. I grit my teeth and drop the thoughts around Dante, becoming irritated by how effortlessly he’s forcing me to pay him attention—for all the wrong reasons.
“I suppose it’s going well. We don’t see much of one another, so it works perfectly for me. Apparently, he’s a doctor, and I don’t really care to find out more, since it’ll only be temporary.”
“Oh, so he’s not looking for a long-term arrangement?” Sienna asks.
Ara’s gaze narrows on me slightly. I don’t know why she’s looking at me like that. I can’t often read what she’s thinking, but I wonder if it’s because she somehow knows how much goes unsaid.
They ask too many questions lately, and so I immediately put my wall up, terrified by any of them getting too close. I don’t want them to see this ugly, hateful, spiteful inner turmoil that I’ve been consumed by.
I don’t want to be reprimanded for being harsh or cruel again. I just truly want to be left alone. So, before they can dive deeper, I cut it off.
“No. I told him it’ll only be temporary until my friends stop riding my ass and let me be.”
Tension ripples around our table.
“Still returning to default mode, I see,” Ara says in her no-nonsense way.
I grind my teeth, irritated because Ara never pulls her punches, always holding me accountable. The others are easier to push away, but she remains unwavering, which only pisses me off more.
“You know we’re only concerned about you,” Sienna is quick to say, trying to cover for Ara’s direct approach. “If you’ll just tell us what happened to Lorraine, we can help you, Romi. Please?”
It’s as easy as that, the mention of her name.
"You killed her! What kind of friend are you?" Lorraine’s mother’s voice infiltrates my mind, and I close my eyes, trying to shove the cruelty of her slicing words away.
It takes me back to that time and place where a horde of people stared at me, whispering about the accusations: that isolation and pain.
And me immediately running away like a coward.
I was someone who always stood up in defiance, and I so quickly crumbled, terrified that they’d see the truth of my involvement.
My friends have heard the gossip about Lorraine’s funeral.
Hell, comments have even been spewed all over my socials because of it.
It’s my personal hell, reliving it daily, and I don’t want them prying it open wider as I try my best to push it down and away, hoping that eventually it’ll simply disappear and no longer have a hold over my life. But I just can’t escape it.
I don’t deserve their pity or their patience. I hate that they don’t see this ugliness inside of me, that they only see what they want to see. I hate that they truly believe I’m innocent in all of this—when I’m not.
“There have been comments on your social media about what happened at her funeral. We don’t believe any of it,” Ara says, trying to reassure me. “If you need help with anything, you’ll let us know, won’t you?”
“I don’t need help!” I push out of my chair, the screech echoing through the café. Ara’s bodyguard immediately stands, and other patrons stare at me, shocked. Shame consumes me, and a lump forms in my throat.
“I’m actually not feeling well today, so I think I’ll go home.” I pick up Borris and pull him close to my chest. He’s my constant, and I know that, despite everything I’ve done, he loves me. That I still have a small part of Lorraine to protect.
“Romi, wait. I'm sorry. Please stay,” Sienna calls, but I’m already opening the door, the cool air of the morning slapping me awake.
“Let her go,” I hear Ara say from behind me, grateful that, at the very least, she’s forcing Sienna to remain instead of chasing after me. Because if she did, I’d most likely explode just to keep her at a distance.
My phone begins to buzz, and when I look down, I curse. What god-awful timing, and it’s so early in the morning as well. But considering I haven’t answered any of my agent's calls, I know I need to pick up, especially if I don’t want her resorting to calling my mother again.
I take a breath and answer.
“Oh, finally, you answered,” Janet says, sounding relieved.
“Good morning, Janet,” I say, walking Borris through the park. He sniffs at everything curiously, tail wagging.
“Don’t you 'good morning' me. I’ve been trying to call you for weeks.”
“You said it was okay to have some time off.”
“Some. There are only so many showcases I can cancel or reorganize. I understand you’re in mourning, and the blip to your reputation from the funeral is frustrating, but we have contracts we need to fulfill.
I’ve narrowed down your appearance list immensely, but we still have agreements in place for your new collection.
Please tell me you’ve been working on the pieces. ”
Borris approaches a dog twice his size, tail wagging, and against his better instincts, attempts to play with him, even when the rottweiler looks like he could accidentally sit on him.
The new collection. I grimace.
I haven’t been in my studio since I destroyed it after Lorraine’s passing, and I don’t know what state it’s been left in. I doubt any of my work is salvageable.
“I have something… More or less.” Because even I know at some point I have to pull myself out of this. I’m just not ready to let go. I’m not prepared for the world to change without her. And I certainly can’t fucking paint yet.
When I return home, I’m grateful Dante is out, because I can’t be bothered with yet another person trying to pry into my life. I throw the keys onto the counter and look at my phone. I have a text message from Sienna, asking if everything’s okay. I sigh, setting my phone on the counter as well.
“And the shittiest friend of the year award goes to Romi Lutton. And the crowd goes wild,” I say to myself as I look down at Borris, who's pleading with those sad puppy eyes for another treat. Damn, he’s gotten too good at that.
“Don’t be upset with me if we have to put you on a diet. But I suppose one treat won’t hurt,” I say as I reach for the box and see what looks like an unlimited supply of dog snacks.
“What the fuck?” I murmur, pulling bag after bag out.
“Wow, Borris, looks like you left an impression.
Mr. Asshole's gone all out." I pull out a treat the size of his face. His eyes grow wider, and he does an impatient little jig, licking his lips. I can’t help but smile at his obvious demand as I hand it to him.
I then become curious about the other cupboards that I haven’t looked in for weeks. My jaw drops. I’ve never seen the pantry so fucking full. I open the fridge, and much to my dismay, all the food looks so healthy and clean.
I suppose that’s no surprise, considering how lean the "doctor" is. I close the fridge and sag against the counter as I roll the smiley face lighter between my fingers, thinking.
I dare to look at the spiral staircase that leads to my studio, an immediate heaviness looming over me.
It’s just a room. There’s no reason I shouldn’t be able to go in there. I used to spend every day in there, painting, laughing, drinking chai lattes, and eating snacks. It used to be my sanctuary. Now, I’m too frightened to even step past the threshold.
But I know if I don’t soon, it’ll ruin my career.
But I just can’t.
I’m not ready to face the ghosts that haunt me up there. My hands begin to tremble as vicious tears threaten to spill over once again. I look to the couch, remembering that Lorraine and I used to spend far too much time watching reality TV.
Or the time I shooed her ex-boyfriend from the apartment, threatening to cut his dick off for cheating on her.
The random theories we had about celebrities, and what our life would look like when we were "grown up," despite both of us already being twenty-eight.
This was our safe space for two years. And I wasn’t ready to let go of it as much as she wasn’t yet ready to let go of me.
Lorraine was the one thing I had outside of the cruel expectation of the wealthy and my mother’s social circles. Here, with her, I could simply be—even if I was a disappointment and an outcast—and remain true to myself.
Now… that's all gone.
Lorraine is gone.
That spark in my daily life was sucked away in an instant, leaving nothing but guilt, shame, and loneliness.
I reach for the cigarettes, my hands shaking as tears begin to spill over my cheeks unsolicited.
I miss you.
I’m sorry.
I’m so sorry for being such an ugly mess.
I’m sorry for not being there for you.
"You killed her!" I close my eyes, bringing the cigarette to my lips, my hands still shaking.
Please go away.
Please leave me alone.
Please take me instead of her.
Because she was and will always be the better choice for this world.