Chapter 45
Chapter Forty-Five
Lily
“Imade an appointment to get your extensions put in,” Mom announces as she breezes into my room, her arms full of clean, warm towels. The scent of fresh linen wafts in behind her, mixing with the faint smell of her floral perfume.
I glance up from the mirror, running my fingers over my short hair, admiring how sleek it looks against my neck. “I like the short hair. It’s chic,” I state, already knowing how I will style it.
Mom rolls her eyes slightly, her lips pursing into that familiar disapproving line.
“It’s not you,” she replies, placing the towels on the countertop with a decisive thud.
Her gaze flicks over my reflection, assessing, measuring.
“There’s the charity gala in two days. Lots of potential men,” she adds, her tone almost conspiratorial as she reaches out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear, a gesture that feels more like an attempt to control than comfort.
I feel my stomach twist as I glance down at my reflection, my heart sinking. “I’m having a flare-up,” I lie, my voice barely above a whisper. I can feel the heat creeping into my cheeks, shame flooding through me as I avoid her gaze.
The pain has subsided, but I can’t tell her I’m not ready to go out in public again like nothing happened. She would just tell me to suck it up. When I asked Alessio to cancel my welcome home celebration, she didn’t talk to me for two whole days.
“Well, I’ll be going,” Mom says, her voice firm, as she smooths the towels with a practiced hand, the fabric crinkling under her fingers.
“I want to thank that Killian again for bringing my baby girl back home.” Her smile is bright, almost too bright, as if she is envisioning the perfect evening filled with laughter and compliments.
The sound of his name sends a rush of butterflies swirling under my skin, filling me with a mixture of excitement and dread.
Through the nightmares, the thought of him is the only sense of peace I seem to have.
Suddenly, the charity gala doesn’t sound so bad, but the thought of being just an accessory to her plans twists my stomach even more.
“Mom—” I start, my voice shaky, but she waves her hand dismissively, her attention already drifting back to her own reflection in the mirror.
“Just think about it, sweetheart. You’ll look stunning in that dress, especially now that it should fit you better,” she says while staring at my waist, her eyes sparkling with the thrill of anticipation. She doesn’t seem to notice or care that I feel like a puppet in her grand scheme.
I swallow hard, my heart heavy. “What if I don’t want to go?”
Her smile falters for just a moment, replaced by a look that is almost doubtful.
“You have to, darling. It’s important for both of us,” she says, her tone leaving no room for argument.
“And besides, I’ve already planned everything.
It would look bad if we don’t attend. After all, Stasia and Darius are hosting, and Selene and Cameron will be there.
It will be a great mix of top-tier made men and the elites in the area. ”
“Stasia and Selene don’t even speak to you.” I have a grudge with them. Since they refuse to come see me under Mom’s roof, I haven’t seen either of them since I’ve been back. I’ve stopped answering their calls and messages altogether.
“I went no contact with my mother for a few years before we spoke again.”
“Nana was on her deathbed at that point.”
“Better late than never.”
I feel a pang of frustration, a familiar ache that comes with knowing I am nothing more than a means to her end. I nod slowly, not trusting myself to speak, as the butterflies in my stomach become a swarm, fluttering wildly at the thought of being paraded like a trophy at her side.
When she finally leaves, I step into the bathtub full of steaming hot water.
The prickles along my skin feel good. All I wanted was to be back home in my bubble, but since coming back it just doesn’t feel right anymore.
None of those girls will get to sit in a clean, cozy bathtub or have towels fresh out of the dryer.
When I close my eyes, all I see are them in cages, and I can’t get the smell or sounds out of my head.
It’s another form of torture altogether.
SERAFINA
I slowly open the door to Lily’s room, holding my homecoming dress.
My sister’s sense of style is impeccable, and unlike my mom, Lily has always encouraged me to explore different trends even though she’s vocal about the ones she isn’t a fan of.
I know our older sisters think Lily is judgmental, but I don’t see it that way.
Once Stasia and Selene were out of the house, Lily and I became closer, and I learned Lily gives more of that tough love.
When I hear her crying from inside the bathroom, I stop at the door.
She’s been crying all week. Mom says Lily and her recent guy split up, but I don’t believe it for a second.
When Gavin broke up with her, it was different.
Lily mopped around and watched sad movies.
This isn’t a heartbreak; it’s something else, something more daunting.
My phone buzzes and it’s Stasia checking in.
Stasia:
How’s she doing today?
Normally, I’d fill her in on what is going on here, but I’ve been telling her and Selene how worried I am about Lily.
The only advice they give is just to be there for Lily but give her space to clear her head.
They clearly know what’s going on, but instead of telling me, they just dance around it, and since they refuse to come to the house, I just find them to be useless.
Come find out for yourself. You don’t get to check in but refuse to be present.
Putting the phone back into my back pocket, I turn away from the bathroom door. When my phone rings, I jump.
“Shit,” I blurt out, pulling out my phone to see it’s Stasia calling, but I just hit the ignore button as I try to dash out of the room.
“Serafina?” Lily’s voice travels softly with a tone of defeat.
Turning back around, there’s Lily at the door of the bathroom, holding a towel around herself. Despite her red, puffy eyes, she forces a smile.
“Is everything okay?” She notices the dress. “Is that your homecoming dress?”
“I didn’t want to bother you,” I reply with a gulp. “I figured I’d wait for you to finish your bath. I’ll come back.”
“Don’t be silly.” She steps into the room. Her hair is wet and dripping. “You’re never bothering me. Is this the one you ordered online? The mermaid-looking one?”
I nod, part of me feeling guilty for cutting into whatever mourning she’s going through, but the other part of me is happy she seems thrilled to see the dress.
“This is the one Mom picked.” I let out a deep breath as I pull the garment bag off. “I got home from school last week and found this in my room. Mom thinks this is the one—prom queen material.”
Lily laughs. “You know Mom. She was prom queen, and she’s over the moon with this stuff.”
“It’s a lot of pressure,” I confess. “If I don’t win, I’ll be the only Andretti who wasn’t crowned prom queen.”
She sits on her bed, nodding her head. “I still don’t know how Stasia won.
She actively tried not to win. But once she got crowned, Mom made it a mission for the rest of us to follow.
” Examining the dress on the hanger that I’m holding up in front of me, she shakes her head.
“Not sure how I feel about this shade of plum on you. But let’s see the style. ”
Quickly, I begin to undress and shimmy into this dress. Pretty sure it’s a size smaller than normal, which is Mom’s kind way of saying I need to lose a few. Lily helps me zip up and walks me over to her floor-length mirror with a little platform to step on.
It is a beautiful dress, but it isn’t… me. When I make eye contact with Lily in the mirror, she’s crying.
“Sorry, Serafina,” she sniffles. “You look beautiful.”
I crack a smile. “I feel like you’re saying that but don’t mean it. Come on, tell me what you really think.”
Another forced smile appears. “It doesn’t matter what I think. If you love it, then so do I.”
Turning toward her, I ask, “Lily. Can you tell me what happened? Why are you so sad?”
“Boy problems.” She waves it off. “Don’t worry about me.”
“I am worried,” I confess. “Mom, Stasia, and Selene all tell me to give you space, but… I miss you.”
She yanks me into a hug, her arms wrapped tightly around me. “I’m right here. You don’t need to give me space. I just haven’t been feeling like myself lately.”
“Maisie and I can key his car. Whoever broke your heart.”
Still holding onto me tightly, she laughs but sniffles. “No one broke my heart, babe. I just got to witness how others live, and it makes me sad.”
When she loosens her grip, I step back. “I didn’t think people in Ireland were in bad shape.”
There is a stillness in her eyes. “I guess we don’t always know what’s going on. I’m just grateful to be here. We are lucky to live this way.” For a second, I seem to lose her, but then she snaps out of it. “Anyway, tell me what you like or don’t like about the dress before I make some comments.”
For the moment, I get my sister back. “You’re right about the color. It does nothing for me. Maybe I should dye my hair.” I pull at my red strands.
“Don’t you dare!” Lily says. “You’re the only sister who got grandmother’s hair color. Changing it is like erasing her.”
I’ve never heard Lily say something like this. “Okay.”
“Also, this mermaid look is out this season.” She pauses to think, and then a smile crosses her face for the first time since she’s been back home. “I have something for you.”
Lily goes into her closet and pulls something out of a garment bag. She hangs it off the door, unzipping the garment bag to showcase the dress inside. I recognize this dress. She got it from her trip to Paris.
“Lily,” I gasp. “I can’t.”
“You can. This shade of yellow would look amazing on you.” She brings me the dress on the hanger.
The floor-length satin gown has an A-line silhouette, a square neckline, and slim adjustable straps.
Horizontal pleating runs across the bodice and continues through the waist, hips, and front of the skirt, creating a continuous textured flow across the design.
The lace-up back finishes with a self-tie bow and a side leg slit.
I try it on, and when I step out, this time Lily is the one who gasps. “You look stunning.”
I stand back on the platform. Lily takes my hair, debating what style would work.
“I like you with short hair,” I say out of nowhere. “I know you loved your long hair, but this suits you better.”
“Thanks, Serafina. I think so too,” she says.