Chapter 21
ROMI
Igroan as loud banging begins on the apartment door, waking me up. My head feels like it’s splitting in two.
Borris is first to jump off the bed to investigate, but I can only think of one person with so much tenacity. Then again, apparently, he just lets himself in.
“I’m coming,” I grumble, wearing nothing but my PJ shorts and midriff-baring top.
I had a freezing shower last night, trying to wake myself up from the reality that I had somehow fallen under Dante’s fucking spell yet again.
The moment he’s in my space, I can’t think straight—even to the point of denying myself the one thing that usually helps take my mind off things. Fucking.
Denying a man like Dante is painful, because besides his twisted personality, the man is a fucking dream to ride. But I won’t fall for his charm this time.
I’m yawning as I open the door, and an icy sensation washes over me when I see who's on the other side.
“Meredith?” I haven’t seen Lorraine’s mother since the funeral.
Her nose rises higher, the way it always has when dealing with me.
She glances over me, as if I’m nothing more than dirt on her shoe, and it raises my hackles.
Last time we spoke, it hadn’t gone well.
This time, although hungover, I’m not in a state of shock by her daughter’s death.
In fact, I’m fucking ready to throw down this time.
“I’ve come for my daughter’s belongings, assuming you haven’t thrown them out already to make more space for your lifestyle.”
My gaze narrows on her. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“You killed her!” Meredith’s voice has haunted me for three months now, ever since she made a spectacle at Lorraine’s funeral.
I push away the reminder of those seething words from that day, each one burned into my fucking brain.
I block the door, not allowing her to step one foot into this space.
Come to think of it, I don’t even know how the fuck she got this address, because she was never welcome here.
“I just know your type are busy with all your little tea parties and yacht club events. I wouldn’t want to keep you. I want my daughter’s things. It’s the least you can do after everything you’ve done.”
That vile, raging creature unfurls within me, coming to the forefront, because of all the people who truly deserve its scathing burn—it's her. Yet, for whatever reason, Lorraine always looked after her, even in the times when she least deserved it.
“What, specifically, might you be after?” I ask considerately, only because I keep Lorraine in mind. Meredith hardly knows anything about her daughter. All she ever viewed her as was a secondary payroll, when her daughter was struggling to make ends meet.
I’d never told Lorraine, but I bought the apartment the moment they wanted to increase the rent; she was already struggling to pay the bills.
I told her I struck a deal with the landlord and set her rent at an amount she could afford so she wouldn’t have to leave Manhattan.
The money was always put into another account I haven’t touched.
I wanted to surprise her with it, but was always too scared to mention it in case she’d decided to give it to her undeserving mother.
I’ve never hated a woman as much as I do Meredith. I know a toxic mooch when I see one, and I saw how she drained, influenced, and manipulated Lorraine time and time again.
“Who do you think you are to question what I do and don’t want? I want it all. You have no right to my daughter’s belongings. Don’t make me call the police.”
I scoff and decide to close the door behind me so we’re both standing in the hallway, in hopes Borris refrains from barking at her. It says a fucking lot when her own daughter’s dog hates her. And I certainly don’t want her trying to claim Borris, because without a doubt, he’s mine now.
This place is off-limits to her. She has no business asking for her daughter's things when I know she most likely only wants to sell them.
“By all means, call the police so I can explain how you’re unwelcome in my apartment. So I can express the only reason you’re fishing around your daughter’s belongings is because your rent is due around now, isn’t it, Meredith?”
She gasps. Of course, I know when her rent is due because it’s the same time Lorraine’s depression and anxiety used to spike. She’d continue taking her calls when she should’ve cut her mother off long ago. And even now, with her daughter in the grave, Meredith is still trying to piggyback off her.
“How dare you! I wouldn’t be in this position if you hadn’t filled my daughter's head with lies and let her die! She should’ve never been here in Manhattan! You killed my daughter! You think I’m not grieving? It must be so easy for you to pretend like she never existed when—”
Slap. My hand begins to throb as I look down on her, all my seething rage coming to the surface as her words from the funeral replay in my mind, when she humiliated me and screamed bloody murder. The way Lorraine’s colleagues and friends looked at me, was as if I had a hand in her death.
And I did, to an extent. I’ve fed off the guilt from how we left things. The fact that I wasn’t with her on that walk, even though I had been on every other one before that.
For the longest time, I believed Meredith's accusations that I'd killed her daughter, simply because I couldn’t save her. But now, as time has passed, I realize that it’s not all my fault. And I certainly wasn’t the one pushing her every fucking day into an early grave.
“How dare you hit me. I’m calling the police, and I’ll take you for everything you’re worth!”
I laugh now like a madwoman. “It’s always about money, isn’t it, Meredith? A ticket to a new meal.”
“That’s rich coming from a pompous princess like you, who has always gotten everything she’s ever wanted. You haven’t worked a day in your life. I hate your type of people most!”
I step into her space again and see the tiny woman sink into herself.
It’s strange how in so many ways she once held power over me, only because I wanted to respect her daughter’s wishes.
But now, without Lorraine here to rein me in, nothing is safeguarding her.
I only ever held my tongue at times to protect Lorraine’s peace.
But my restraint means nothing to a dead woman.
“Let me make this very clear. You’re never to return here. You have no right to be on this doorstep, my doorstep, and should you return, you’ll find yourself without both of your fucking legs.”
She tries to speak but swallows hard. Then she stammers, “A-are you threatening m-me?”
It tastes good, this vile rage being directed at the person who most deserves it. A woman who used and abused her own daughter, manipulating her by pretending to be a victim to the world, when she’s only made poor choices and then demanded her daughter get her out of the consequences.
“Just you wait,” she says, taking a step back when my neighbor opens the door to look out at the commotion.
“An evil girl, this one,” Meredith tells her, pointing at me.
“Won’t even give me my daughter’s belongings after she let her die!
I have my rights as a mother!” she yells as she continues stepping backward.
“Just you wait. You might be a rich little bitch, but you won’t ever silence me. ”
She storms down the stairs, cursing and screaming about all my shortcomings and the various ways I was complicit in her daughter's death. It shifts from "you killed her" to "you took away my only baby" to "I’ll take you for everything you're worth."
“Is everything okay, dear?” Susan, my elderly neighbor, asks. I offer a sad smile because she’s only ever been kind to me. “That’s the evil mother, huh?”
We watch her as she continues screaming her way down the staircase.
“Yeah,” I say, dejected. Although it feels good to finally stand up to her, I feel no better about any of it.
Do I have the right to keep her daughter’s belongings?
Is it even me who should be cherishing Lorraine and her memories?
What if Lorraine really did hate me in the end?
“If you need anything, dear, let me know. Though I suppose that new boyfriend of yours has been helping a lot around the place. He fixed my plumbing the other day. Quite the handyman. Very handsome too.” She winks.
I offer her a tight smile, my blood boiling, realizing that Dante is still squirming himself into my life. And I have no idea why he’s become so obsessed.
Everyone else, I’ve been able to push away.
But he is unrelenting, even when not wanted.
Yet, right now, as my heart hurts… all I want is him.