CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR #2
She sat on the sofa across from me. It was a low, uncomfortable-looking thing, more of an art piece than functional furniture. She slumped forward, elbows on her parted knees, hands dangling between, and for the first time since we were very small children, Catherine looked like...
A person. A real, human person. Not a society robot.
“That’s why I fucked that asshole at mother’s birthday party.
” She shuddered. “Believe me, it wasn’t due to any sort of attraction.
I needed to convince myself that I didn’t love Scott.
That I’d had a fling with him, that was all.
If I had sex with someone else and it felt the same, if I felt the same as I did with Scott, I would know that it wasn’t love.
It was infatuation or naturally releasing chemicals from my brain.
I could walk away from him and be happy. ” She reached up and wiped at her eyes.
She was crying. My cold, heart-of-stone sister was crying.
“And that didn’t work out, huh?” I asked, stating the obvious.
“It reinforced the fact that not only did I love Scott, but I also never loved Jackson.” Another bitter chuckle.
“I wish I would have figured that out long before we signed the marriage license and got joint bank accounts. Which he’s drained, by the way.
Moved to other accounts I don’t have access to. ”
“That motherfucker.” Yes, his wife had cheated on him, but it was still financial abuse, and there was no excuse for it. “I can pay for—”
She held up her hand. “Don’t. I have friends who are sympathetic.”
“I’m also sympathetic,” I assured her. “Look, I know we’re not close. God knows we don’t like each other. But you’re still my sister. If you need help, you can get it from me. No judgment.”
“I certainly won’t be getting it from mother,” she said bitterly.
“Oh no, that you will not.” Although, she had softened up about the ring. “I assume she’s already told you that she’s cutting you out of your inheritance.”
That got a big laugh from Catherine. “For the seventieth time now. I quake with fear.”
Mother did have a flair for the dramatic when it came to the dissolution of her fortune after her death.
I gestured to all the boxes around us. “Is that why you’re doing all of this packing yourself? Because of money?”
How much could movers cost? Ten, twenty thousand?
She shook her head. “No. I don’t want people in my home, pawing at my things. And I need something to do. Something tangible to make this whole transition seem real.”
“You know what would make the reality set in?” I asked.
She didn’t bite.
I said it anyway. “Throwing out all of this ugly shit and hiring someone with some taste.”
“Maybe I’ll ask your decorator to work on my new apartment.
I do so love the hotel ballroom feel yours has.
” The slight tilt of humor that set Catherine’s mouth faded.
“Please, I need you to understand, not as my brother but as Scott’s friend…
I know how lucky I am. It’s hard to walk away from all of this, but I’m doing it because I’d rather live without the home and the clothes and the high-society reputation than live without him. ”
“Or live with Jackson?”
“No. No, Scott isn’t an escape,” she said firmly. “He isn’t my exit strategy. I love him.”
“And that’s why I got the ring for you.” I nudged it across the table toward her.
She shook her head. “I appreciate you risking mother’s wrath. I do. But that’s from a life I’m not a part of anymore.”
“It’s from a family you’re still a part of,” I protested.
“And a family I’m splitting in half.” She pushed the ring back. “I wore this as a symbol of a marriage that failed. I can’t transfer it into my new start.”
“Oh, but that ugly cat statue, which can go.”
She didn’t rise to the bait. “Why not give it to Charlotte? She seems permanent.”
“She is.” Unless I gave her that ring. “But she’s not ready for this yet. We haven’t been together for that long. At least, not on the same coast. And there are other factors.”
“The trauma from the transplant fiasco.” Catherine nodded in understanding.
A strange, protective urge rose up in me. It screamed, how dare you know about Charlotte’s private pain! But it wasn’t Charlotte’s pain. It was Scott’s, too, and he had every right to share it with Catherine.
Still, I wasn’t going to take Catherine’s birthright from her. The ring was sacred. “Keep it. It’s for the daughters of the family. If it went to daughters-in-law—”
“Mother would have it,” Catherine finished for me, and we both laughed.
“Keep it for Briony, then,” I said, and gave the box another little push, pretending that I didn’t think my spooky niece was more likely to eat a man than marry him.
“I will.” Catherine took another look around the room. “I hate this place.”
“I knew it!” I jabbed the air with my finger.
“It’s all Jackon’s tastes. It’s so ugly. And he destroyed such a lovely house for this.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I hate that I agree with you. On anything.”
“Well, brace yourself. Scott’s taste isn’t much better,” I warned her. “Last time I was at his place, he had movie posters on the wall.”
“You had movie posters on the wall in your bedroom at home,” Catherine said, witheringly.
“In frames,” I argued. “His are raw. Thumbtacks. Right on the wall.”
She shivered dramatically and shook her hands out as if she’d touched wet food in the sink.
Not that I thought my sister had ever been within ten feet of a kitchen sink in her life.
“I’m not trying to dissuade you from your relationship,” I clarified.
“On the contrary, you’ve strengthened my resolve in one area.” Her jaw set in determination.
“Oh? What’s that?”
“I’m in charge of the decorating.”