26. Bex
Chapter twenty-six
Bex
I know I wasn't wrong. But I also didn't give Kit much grace. And the way I left was a retreat of my own. I recognized that, too, in the split second I turned around. My heart hammers with something akin to guilt.
I spot my mother and father at a table near the inn's breakfast area.
I exhale. I told Kit I wanted to speak with them, and I still do.
Not about the whole fiasco in New Orleans.
But something. I want them to know that yes, there is someone in my life.
Hiding it feels like the same old pattern: me deflecting so nobody can judge my choices.
I walk over. My father is sipping coffee, his hair still mussed like he slept in a hurry. Lucia looks more awake, gently stirring a cup of tea.
"Good morning," I say carefully.
My father tilts his chin in a half-nod. "Hey." He sounds worn but not hostile. A thin improvement.
Lucia smiles, gesturing to the empty seat. "Join us, if you like. We were about to head out soon, but there's time."
I lower myself onto the chair. The old tension in my parents' presence feels subdued somehow. Maybe Sofia's wedding forced them to re-examine a few of their expectations, or maybe I'm just too tired to be defensive. Probably both.
"What are your plans for the drive back?" I ask, stalling.
My father sets down his cup. "Straight shot, probably."
Lucia glances at Marcello, then back at me. "We'll be back in Brooklyn by tonight, then it's business as usual. But you, are you heading back with the group or staying longer?"
I brace myself. "I'm... not sure how long I'll stay.
I might stay an extra day or two. Spend some time with Sofia and Jordan before they head off for the honeymoon.
" I pause, pressing my lips together. I can feel my father's gaze shift to me.
"Actually, I wanted to tell you something.
It's not anything huge. But... I met someone. Recently."
The tension in my own shoulders spikes. That's foolish, right? I'm just telling them a normal fact of life. Why do I feel like electricity is rippling down my spine?
Marcello's eyebrows flick up. "Someone."
Lucia sets down her spoon. "Who?"
I press sticky palms against my denim-clad thighs.
I can hear Kit's voice in my head: This is the worst possible timing.
Maybe it is, but I'm already here, and I can't back down.
I look at both of them. "It's... complicated.
We're still figuring it out. But we... things happened fast, and it's real, and I just wanted you to know that I'm... serious about it. "
Silence. My father's gaze flicks to the window. He idly turns his coffee cup half a rotation. Then he says only, "Huh."
Usually that "huh" means trouble. I feel a familiar hitch in my breathing. "It's good," I say, voice softer now. "It's a good thing."
My mother clears her throat. "Is this person good to you?"
A wave of emotion surges. Part of me wants to laugh. Another part nearly chokes on tears. "Yes. Very." My mind flashes to the hush of Kit's face last night, the vulnerability that hovered behind all that logic. Even if we fought, I know she's good.
Lucia smooths her napkin. "Then I want to hear more when you're ready to tell us. Don't wait too long."
From my father, no protest. Not even a single lecture about whether this someone is financially stable or from a respectable family. Just... reluctant acceptance wrapped in a stiff shrug. I can't remember the last time he was that subdued about my life choices.
I inhale slowly, letting relief seep into my limbs. "Thanks," I say, voice shaking a bit. "I, um, appreciate that."
No one speaks for another few seconds. Then Lucia reaches over to pat my hand. "Your father and I need to pack the car in a few minutes."
"I'll walk you out," I offer, standing on unsteady legs.
At the car, I notice the leftover wreath decorations around the inn's parking area.
They look actively out of place at mid-morning, the sunlight turning the tinsel a bit dull.
Still, the sense of forced holiday cheer makes me smile, like the entire place is determined to keep things bright, even if the daylight reveals the awkward edges.
Lucia slips an arm around me in a brief hug. "Come to dinner soon," she says quietly. "Bring your sister, bring Jordan, bring whoever." She smiles. "I think it's time we all try a bit harder."
I can't speak for a moment, so I just nod. Marcello clears his throat, eyes skimming over the trunk's contents. He pauses, then gives me a quick, one-armed squeeze. It's the fatherly version of "I might not love everything, but I love you." That's how it feels, anyway.
And then they climb into the car and leave. I stand at the edge of the lot, watching the taillights vanish behind the bend of trees. My throat is tight. I didn't do half the explaining I could have, but it's a start. It gives me some air in a place I've always felt suffocated.
At least now my parents aren't in open opposition to my love life. For once in my existence. I half-laugh to myself. That alone is surreal enough to require documentation.
Midday finds me strolling through the lawn area, a half-eaten bagel in one hand.
I'm heading toward the small building that holds Jordan's office, wanting to say goodbye before they leave on their mini-honeymoon.
But before I get there, Sofia finds me. The bride, well, newlywed bride, looks radiant even in day-after clothes: a loose sundress, sandals, and a faint flush that says she's been up half the night in delicious wedding bliss.
My heart melts at the sight. Sofia deserves every ounce of that happiness.
"Hey," Sofia calls, waving me over. She's perched on a small bench by the water, glancing out at the lake like she can't stop admiring it.
I come closer, cheeks puffing out at the last bite of bagel. I chew hastily. "What's up, Mrs. Kerne?"
Sofia blushes. "That is still so new to hear out loud." She pats the bench beside her. "Sit a minute?"
I drop down, crumple the empty bagel wrapper in my palm. "You look ridiculously content."
"Because I am. It was perfect. Even with the complicated bits, it still felt right." She exhales happily, flipping her hair off her shoulder. Then her gaze turns sly. "So, Mom called me from the car this morning."
My stomach tightens. "She did?"
"Mm-hmm." Sofia's lips curve. "She said you sat down to talk to them, and you told them there's someone in your life. Mom said you seemed happy and... different. She sounded..." Sofia pauses, searching for the right word. "She sounded almost excited. That's new for them."
A prickle of warmth runs through my chest. "I guess so. It wasn't a big conversation. More of a quick mention."
"It's a start," Sofia says with a nod. Then she turns to face me more fully, eyebrows lifted. "I, for one, am extremely curious who it is. You never confide anymore."
I let out a short laugh. "Because I usually don't have much to confide about."
Sofia gives me a look, the kind that reads you can't fool me, sister. She sets her elbow on the bench's back, leaning in conspiratorially. "So, is it someone we know?"
I freeze, acutely aware that my muscles tighten. I try to look casual. "It's... complicated."
"This place is full of complicated," Sofia teases. "But you talked to them about it, so presumably it's not just random. Right?"
I hesitate. I assumed I could dodge Sofia's curiosity with vague references, but Sofia has known me from birth. Flickers of tension must be visible in my expression, because her eyes narrow a fraction, scanning my features. Then with a sudden spark, she says, "It's Kit, isn't it?"
The question lands like a flash of lightning between us. My mouth opens. No sound emerges. I can't muster a denial quickly enough. My face goes hot. Panic stirs. I try to think of a way to deflect, a quick joke, anything. But nothing comes.
I'm silent a second too long.
Sofia's eyes fly wide, a grin bursting across her face.
"It is," she breathes. "Oh my God. Seriously?
" She leans forward, nearly toppling off the bench in excitement.
"Bex, how did I not see that until... oh wait, I did see something.
The way she looked at you. But I thought maybe I was imagining it. "
Words rush in my mind, no organized sequence. I settle for a half-laugh, half-groan. "Fi, please. Keep your voice down." I glance around the empty lawn. Nobody else is in earshot, but my nerves still jangle.
Sofia covers her mouth in an exaggerated hush motion, then lowers her voice. "Have you been... I mean, is it going on for a while?"
"Define 'a while,'" I mutter. I feel the urge to bury my face in my hands.
This is not how I planned to share it. Not that I planned any of this.
"We... it's complicated. I can't talk about all of it.
But yeah, I guess it's happening. Kind of.
Sort of. I said it was complicated." I realize I'm babbling.
Sofia's grin softens. "Does Kit know you're telling me this?"
I flick my gaze away. My chest tightens, thinking of last night's fight. The irony cuts: I basically begged Kit to let us be open. Now I'm telling Sofia. I rub a hand over my eyes. "No. She and I... we had a disagreement last night. About whether to tell people."
Sofia processes that with a small frown. "Oh." Then, gently, "And you told our parents anyway?"
"I told them there's someone," I clarify. "I didn't say it was Kit. They want me to stand still for a second and let them in, and I... I'm trying something new. Being honest."
Sofia nods. Her expression looks understanding, but also a little concerned. "Kit's worried about what? Her parents' reaction?"
I sigh. "Yes, partly. But also, I think she's worried about losing control of the narrative.
She's used to planning everything. And I can't blame her for that, it's her life.
She's had a ton of pressure on her from her family, from society.
And I might not have been super gentle about it when I pressed her. So... we're at an impasse."
Sofia sets a hand on my arm. "For the record, I think you guys could be... surprisingly good together. You're both smarter than you pretend, and you both serve as each other's wake-up call in different ways."
I let out a half-laugh. "That's... one way to put it."
We fall quiet for a moment, watching the lake's gentle ripples.
Here in daylight, the garland hangs from the small arbor down by the water, with leftover wedding flowers still in place.
My memory flashes to the ceremony, the vow exchange, the applause.
And Kit, standing off to one side, looking at me as though there was something we both needed to say but never did.
Sofia squeezes my arm. "Anyway, sorry, I didn't mean to pry. But once Mom mentioned you were glowing, I had to guess. I've seen the way Kit... well, the way she looked whenever you were around." Her voice softens. "Maybe talk to her, huh? Figure out what she needs so it's not so scary."
My throat constricts. "Yeah," I manage. "I... might do that."
"She's still on property, right?"
"Yeah," I say. "I think so. Probably dealing with post-wedding stuff. You know, checklists and final wrap-ups." I give a wry grin. "I'd guess she's somewhere with a color-coded binder feeling guilty."
Sofia chuckles, leaning her head on my shoulder in sisterly affection. "Well, go find her and talk. I know this might be complicated, but communication helps."
I nod, ignoring the swirl of nerves. "Yeah," I say again, more determined this time.
Sofia smiles. Then she changes the subject, launching into a sweet recap of how Jordan made her laugh all morning, how perfect their post-wedding brunch was.
I let my sister ramble, but my own mind churns.
Sofia's reaction was purely excited. Maybe that's proof Kit and I could let people in without the sky crashing down.