43. Seraphina
43
Seraphina
“Remember, I’ll pick you up tonight after my shift, okay? Wear something comfortable; we’re going to be outside.”
I nod my head, biting down on my lip to keep the smile from taking over my face. Despite everything going on, I can’t help but feel excitement. “Okay.”
Lincoln stares at me, eyes scrutinizing my face until a small smile breaks out over his features. “You can smile, cierń. I won’t tell anyone.”
A snort breaks from my nose at his comment, and I shake my head, pushing him out of my apartment with a half-hearted shove. “Go to work before I decide that I’m not going out with you tonight.”
“Wouldn’t matter.” He shrugs, the shoulder strap of his overnight bag moving with the motion. “I’d just show up anyway.”
“Stalkerish behavior, Lincoln Simmons.”
“Nah, just dedicated. Give me a kiss before I go?”
I pretend to consider his request for a moment, teasing him before I throw my arms around his neck and bring his face down to mine. It’s a chaste kiss, just a pressing of our lips together, but something about the simplicity of it is satisfying. It’s like a homecoming.
“Be good for me, cierń, okay?”
“I’m always good. My sisters are the questionable ones.”
“I don’t know about that, Seraphina.” He nips my lips before drawing back, and I’m forced to lower my arms. “I’ll see you tonight. I’ll text you when I leave.”
Grabbing onto my door, I lean against the frame and stare at him as he walks backward. “Bye, Lincoln.”
He winks, and it takes me a minute to absorb the full enormity of the moment. Outside of this moment, this man, the safety of my world is crumbling. There are things to look forward to: the wedding, beginning my master’s program, being back in New Jersey and close to my family. But there’s also a hell of a lot to cause anxiety and confusion.
With Lincoln teasing me with a wink in the middle of my apartment building, there’s something surreal and almost magical. It’s cleansing and cathartic and otherworldly that I get to experience this with him. I bite the inside of my lip, letting the pain serve as a reminder that I’m awake and this isn’t a dream. With a final look, he disappears into the stairwell, and I close my apartment door.
I look up just in time to see the knowing gaze of Olivia pouring coffee in the kitchen.
“Hey, how did you sleep?”
“Fine.” She crosses her arms and leans against the counter. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard that. Want to repeat that one more time?” I tease, knowing that an apology from Olivia is rare. Not because she’s opposed to giving them, but because in the years I’ve known her, she’s never done anything to warrant giving an apology, at least not to me.
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t be a jerk. But look…” She pauses, sighing heavily before continuing, “I let my desire to avoid the shit happening around us cloud good judgment. In retrospect, asking you and B to turn off your phones with everything happening was selfish, and I’m sorry I caused panic. I just wanted a little bit of normal, I guess.” She shrugs as though her explanation is no big deal. But I know Olivia, and I know that if she’s trying this hard to avoid a situation, she’s mentally and emotionally in a bad place.
I wave off her apology. I’m a grown woman and wasn’t forced to turn off the device and hand it over. I did it freely, making my judgment call just as poor. “Did you have fun last night? I feel like I’ve barely seen you lately.”
“Sure.” Olivia turns around, busying herself with her coffee and effectively avoiding my eyes.
“What time did Rafe leave?” I ask, intentionally bringing up my brother to gauge her reaction. My eyes stay on Liv, and I don’t miss how her hand shakes at the mention of his name or how she sloshes her coffee over the rim of the mug as she lifts it to her lips.
“No clue. Late.”
“Did he stay the night?” I ask right as she takes a sip, which is arguably mean but also payback for the whole turning-off-the-phone saga.
“No, Seraphina.” I expect a bite to her tone, but it’s not there. Instead, she sounds resigned and almost sad about her answer. I straighten and take a long look at my beautiful friend, noting just how unhappy she appears.
“Did you want him to?”
She shakes her head immediately, though it doesn’t seem like she’s trying to deny it, but to clear her head. “No? I don’t know. Whatever was going on between us is done. He made sure of that a few weeks ago.”
“What did he do?” My own voice has an edge to it, and I’m not above hurting my twin if he did something to hurt Liv.
“You can lose the ferocious cat look on your face, Ser. He just wanted something I couldn’t give him, and instead of pushing it, pushing me, he ended things.”
“Oh. I see.” And I do see. I see how much he cares for her, how much she cares for him, but how she’s not at a place to give in to whatever it is he wants. “I’m sorry,” I offer, not filling the space with any bullshit words of encouragement to give a relationship.
“You’re not going to tell me I should give him the commitment that he wants?”
I sigh, my heart breaking at her words, and walk toward Olivia slowly, careful not to scare her off. “If you thought you were in a place to commit to Rafe, you would. I know you care about him, and I know he cares for you. But no one can tell you to do something you’re not ready to do, and I won’t push you or try to manipulate you into being in a relationship if that’s not what you want. I just want you to be happy, Olivia, and what I’m realizing is that while I’ve seen glimpses of your happiness, I don’t think you’ve ever really been happy in the four years I’ve known you.”
She turns her head, ripping her eyes from mine to stare at the blank wall. Her head starts to nod, causing her arms to move and the steaming coffee to splash over her hands. I reach out, grabbing the mug and placing it on the counter behind her. “Liv, are—”
“I’m trying, okay?” she cuts me off, her voice a low whisper. “I’ve been seeing a therapist since we moved back. I’m trying to get over it. It was easier at Penn when I was able to pretend like none of my shit show of a life happened. But it’s harder here, not just because of this god-awful state, but because of the assholes coming out of left field, these monsters that seem to never go away. Rafe was helping for a while, but I can’t use him, not anymore.”
“Liv, that’s not—”
“No,” she says sharply, turning back to face me. “I am so sick and tired of being sick and tired of my life. I hate what they did. I hate that I still let it affect me. I hate everything about that night and how excited I was, just for that to be taken away from me. I’m trying to be happy, Seraphina. I promise I am. It’s just taking time.”
“Liv.” My heart breaks, and I squeeze my hands at my side. “Can I hug you?”
She nods, her head moving up and down rapidly. “I’d like that.”
I throw my arms around her waist, pulling her into me with a fierce hug. I hold her body as she cries, the sobs moving her chest up and down as she hunches against my shoulder. I try to soothe her, making a shushing noise with my mouth like you would with a child.
“I’m here, Liv. I’m right here.”
Olivia hiccups, pulling back and leaning against the counter. “I know, Ser. But I need to do this alone.”
I nod, understanding what she means. “Okay, but…” I clear my throat as the emotion wells up. “Just know I’m here for you, okay? Whatever it is. Whenever you need it, okay?”
“I know, Ser. I know. I need to get ready for work.”
“You work today?”
“Yeah, I picked up a double, and Scott asked me to come in to help with a delivery.”
“Will you cut back on hours once your classes start?”
She shrugs, reaching behind her for her mug. “I like being busy, so we’ll see.”
“Busy is good, but working yourself to death is not.”
“I know, Ser.” Olivia walks around me, squeezing my shoulder as she passes, as though the display of emotion from moments ago was a fever dream.
I watch her disappear into her bedroom, the soft click of her door echoing in the empty space.
“That went well, huh?” Bianca’s voice barrels into me from behind, and I whip around, surprised by her presence. “I thought you had something today?”
“It’s raining, so I’m planning on staying home and vegging out until further notice. You down?”
“A movie night and movie day?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at her suggestion.
“Why not? It’s not like you have work today. Besides, I overhead Linc before he left. It’ll give us plenty of time to scrub you down before your date.”
My eyes narrow at her. “Do you make a habit of listening in to people’s conversations?”
She purses her lips as though she needs to consider my question. “Helps distract me from my life. You and Liv aren’t the only ones whose life has devolved into a shit show, you know.”
Guilt eats at me as soon as she says it. “B, are you—”
“Don’t go all Mom on me. I don’t want to talk about it, and I want a distraction. But I am absolutely not watching a horror movie.”
“I mean, same. Should we call Ava?”
“Probably. You saw how she reacted yesterday when she thought she wasn’t invited.”
I let out a soft laugh at the memory of Ava’s face when she thought she was left out. “Let me go get my phone, and I’ll text her.” I leave Bianca and walk into my room, going straight to my nightstand, where I always keep my phone. I’m surprised that my device isn’t the only one on the stand.
“Shit,” I murmur, picking up Linc’s phone. He was rushing to get changed and out the door that he must have forgotten to grab his phone. I tap on the screen and see that it’s nearly dead. Plugging it in, I grab my phone and type out a quick text to Ava, inviting her over for a girls’ day.
—
“I have to say, it’s really nice not having to work on a Monday afternoon,” Ava comments as she stirs a pot of lentils on our stovetop. “I mean, everyone else has to work at the start of the week, but this job really has its advantages.”
Beside me, Bianca huffs and rolls her eyes. “Like working until two a.m. with your hot fiancé at a celebrity’s house?”
“He is hot, isn’t he?”
“Why are you making lentils again? It’s the end of June,” I ask, changing the trajectory of the conversation. If Ava is left to her own devices, she’ll continue to ramble until all the oxygen is sucked out of the room.
“You both need some good luck.”
“I thought that was just on New Year’s?” Since we were kids, our mother has made us take shots of lentil soup as soon as the clock struck midnight, an Italian superstition to bring prosperity into the new year. I’m not sure how it applies now.
“Well,” Ava starts, stepping away from the stove and turning around to lean against the counter. “I figured it’s a new year for you both in school, a new apartment, new relationships.” She looks at me meaningfully, and I blush under her scrutiny. “Anyway, this is essentially New Year’s for both of you—and Liv—so it seemed appropriate.”
“You know I hate lentils,” Bianca grumbles, crossing her arms like a petulant child at the kitchen table. “You better have ditalini, or else I’m going to flip the pot over your head.”
“I fear you need sage and an exorcist, too, young grasshopper.”
“Ava, stop talking like an asshole.”
“And that’s enough,” I cut in, shooting both my sisters a sharp look. “Do you need any help?” After I texted Ava to come over, I wasn’t surprised that she accepted the invitation; however, when she came to our door with a large pot of soup, I was understandably perplexed.
“No, everything’s done. It needs maybe thirty more minutes to simmer, and then we can eat.”
“Okay, come sit, then,” I order, pushing out a third chair from beneath our kitchen table. “How’s wedding planning going?”
She smiles as she sits, sticking out her tongue at Bianca for no evident reason. “Like I said a few weeks ago, everything is done. The villa handles basically everything. I made a dress appointment for the end of July. I found this little bridal shop in Varner, and they seem to specialize in retro dresses. You know that white Ginger Rogers dress from the thirties? The one Grandma always obsessed over?”
I sort through the Rolodex in my brain, mentally pulling up the image of the dress Ava is talking about. “The one that looked like a nightgown with a cape over it?”
“Yes.” She nods excitedly. “They have one similar to that, and it would be perfect for the landscape.”
“You want a cape?”
“Instead of a veil, yes,” she responds simply, pulling up a picture of the dress on her phone.
“Of course you do,” Bianca scoffs, though her tone is playful and not harsh.
She holds up her phone, showing us the page on her screen. “Shut up, B. And here, this is a picture they posted of the dress.” It’s a stunning recreation of the drop-waist dress originally worn by Ginger Rogers in the thirties. On the model, the dress fits tight until it hits her thighs, and then it flares out in a burst of chiffon. In another picture, the dress is partially hidden by a matching chiffon cape with pearl detailing at the neck. It’s dramatic yet simple and the perfect accompaniment for my sister’s beauty.
“It’s stunning, Aves. I can’t wait to see you try it on.”
“At least someone is supportive. Anyway, where are you going on your date tonight?”
I smile at the change in subject. “I have no idea. He told me to dress comfortably, and then he wants me to see his apartment.”
“Hm, I wonder where he’s taking you. And his apartment is sick. He’s an annoying little shit, but he’s pretty much talented at everything he does, including decorating.”
“He decorated the apartment?” I question.
“Well, he and his mom, probably. Anyway, you’ll have to call me when you get home tomorrow. I—” A timer on Ava’s phone goes off, interrupting her. “Soup’s ready.”
—
“I’m not saying that Rob is a catch, but he’s nowhere near as bad as Aaron. Look at that guy. He’s got a face that makes you want to just punch him right in the nose,” Ava muses as we watch our second episode of Love Island USA . “Can you imagine when Kaylor sees this footage? He’s going to be so fucked.”
“Why is no one talking about how hot Miguel is?” Bianca asks, squinting her eyes at the screen.
“I’m pretty sure everyone is talking about how hot he is, B.” I roll my eyes and look at my phone, noting that I need to start getting ready soon. I have no idea when Lincoln will be here, and thanks to his phone being left behind, it’s not like he can give me a heads-up that he’s on his way.
Standing from the couch, I stretch my limbs out and smile at my sisters. “I’m going to take a shower.”
They wave me off, bickering about the merits of each guy on the absurd yet highly addicting dating show. I stop in my room to grab my robe before shutting myself in the bathroom and turning the water to warm. It takes a few minutes for the water to heat up, but when it does, I step under the spray, letting the water quell the excitement I have for tonight. I reach for my shampoo, apply a healthy dot to my palm, and emulsify it, rubbing it through my long hair until suds start to form.
I’m rinsing the suds out when a crash sounds from the door, and I turn, stunned to see Bianca running into the once-locked but now broken-down door.
“What—”
“Seraphina, there’s a fire.”