Chapter 11. Alex #2
My traitorous mother hums beside me, tone so sarcastic that it’s very obvious where Fleur gets it from. “I’m not sure, Vincenzo, it’s just so hard to tell.”
I’m one second away from raising my voice—which I never do—when a link pings through from Vincenzo at the top of my screen, saving his life. “Gotta go,” I say, hanging up.
“I knew it.”
“Don’t you start,” I say, to my very smug mother, opening up the link to the event. “I’m just … making sure she’s not made a mistake is all. Looking after her.”
“Is that what you kids call it nowadays?”
I grind my teeth, staring down at the event description. It’s tomorrow night in Camden. I’d barely get there in time.
I shut my eyes, trying to be rational.
There is absolutely zero reason for me to fly to London. Or intervene. Or even be bothered about this.
A soft hand lands on mine. It’s a hand I know better than my own.
It has rested on top of my fingers at every twist and turn of my life.
When my vision has blurred from tears, when life has felt unlivable, when I’ve bled at the hands of my father, when nightmares rocked my sleep as a child. “You should go, Alex.”
I pull my hand away and let my head drop to the crook of my elbows, fingers interlacing behind my head. “I really shouldn’t.”
“Your brain deprives you of the best things in life.”
“I won’t be able to make her happy. She wants someone present, not someone like me.”
“Who wins the Super Bowl next year? I’ll put a bet on them.”
“What?”
“Tell me who’ll win the Super Bowl, since you seem so confident you can predict the future?”
“Maman.”
“No, Alex. I’m sane enough to know she’s right for you. You’re depriving yourself of a chance at something beautiful because there’s a possibility it won’t work. And all the while, you’re always asking me to try new pills even though we both know the odds are stacked against me.”
Fuck. She’s right. I’m not setting a good example for her. “I’m scared,” I whisper, finally admitting it out loud. “Scared I’ll lose her all over again, scared I won’t recover from it.”
“Love is maddening, Alex. It’s sickening, frightening, embarrassing, depressing.
It turns us into the people we swore we’d never be.
When I first held you in my arms, I felt terrified.
I felt like my heart was walking outside of my body, and I’d have to send that heart to school, to football practice, to Vincenzo’s house, and trust it would come home to me safely.
If you’re not absolutely terrified, you’re not doing it right. ”
“But we’d have to be long distance, and if she gets hurt and I’m not able to get to her, I’ll lose my mind.”
“You haven’t proved to her that you can manage long distance very well.
She’s probably worried you’ll run if something bad comes up again.
You need to win her over. We want you to be happy.
We want you to choose yourself, to go to her.
You don’t have to drop everything and run to us all the time. We have staff to help.”
Her fingers tangle in my hair, and oh God, I can’t imagine how I’ll survive my mother’s death when it comes.
“Back in five,” I grumble, through the stinging behind my eyes, leaving my mother’s triumphant smile behind to step into the hallway.
“If I had any updates, I’d have called you,” Brendan grunts, picking up on the first ring.
“I need a favor.”
“Is it legal?”
“No, probably not.”
“Color me intrigued. Is it a hacking job?”
“There’s an event in London that’s sold out. I want everyone’s tickets refunded, canceled, then I want all the tickets for myself.”
“How big are we talking? If this is a concert, you’ll never get away with it.”
“It’s small. It’s … Ophelia is … don’t worry about what it is, I’m sending you a link now.”
He’s silent on the other end of the line, but I can imagine him shoving his too-thick glasses up his nose, leaning in.
He hums cheerfully. “Man, this is a shit website. Yeah, easy enough.”
“Thanks. Bill me for it now.”
“On the house.”
“Not your usual style.”
“Yeah, but you need a girlfriend, and I’m a hopeless romantic.”
This is news to me. I don’t think he’s ever been on a date in his life. “Are you?”
“Nah. Just sick of your shitty moods. I’ll text you when it’s done. Bye.”
The line drops before I can say goodbye. I text my team to tell them I’ll be in London for a couple of nights, then call the housekeeper, nannies, and security team, too.
My mother is asleep when I get back to the room, and she looks so peaceful that I don’t dare wake her. I text the sibling group chat.
Alex
I’m heading to London overnight tonight. I’ll be back as soon as possible. Ingrid, Erin, and Emily will all be with you, and the security guys, obviously.
Evie
What’s in London?
Mia
Does it rhyme with schmophelia?
élé
WE KNEW IT!!!
Mia
CEO of an airline and he’s completely in shambles over a girl
Evie
loool so true
Fleur
Are we talking about the girl who put so much shit about us into a news article? Don’t you guys care about that?
My stomach sinks. Fleur couldn’t be any less approving of Ophelia.
Mia
Hey, if Ophelia’s article is what it took to finally get Dad to fuck off, I’ll take it.
Evie
Agreed
Alex
Watch your language in group chats. M. élé is twelve.
élé
I know WAY worse words than fuck
Fantastic.
Alex
Bringing Mom home in a couple hours. She’d love to see you all.
I lean back in the uncomfortable chair, book myself a flight for late tonight, and attempt to pull together some kind of speech to give to Ophelia.
My mom’s words have batted away the fog of doubt that’s kept me holding back. Ophelia is mine. She’s mine in a way that has made me start to believe in fate. In a way that makes me think that maybe, just maybe, there’s a brighter future laid out for me that runs alongside the darker one.
I have a strong feeling I’m at the crossroads where I choose one.
I call Ophelia, but it goes to voicemail, so I fire off a shameless sixth unanswered text.
Alex
Call me
Finally, I get a reply.
Ophelia
We should talk, but I’m not ready for it yet. I’m at a Colette with bar and Eike.
Ophelia
Hahaha
Ophelia
I meant I’m at a bar
Ophelia
With Colette
Ophelia
And Eike
No, no, no.
Alex
Call me, sweetheart.
Ophelia
Does this hurt your heart more than it feels good?
Alex
Call me.
Ophelia
We’re doomed, Alex
My sweet, lonely, pessimistic, drunk girl. I want to be the reason she learns to have faith in the world again. I feel like I’ve turned a corner. Like we can be together and figure out the distance and the baggage later.
Alex
We’re fated, Ophelia.
Ophelia
Fated for dooooom.
Alex
Fated for an old dusty cottage, where I can watch you do crosswords until your hair turns white.
Ophelia
There aren’t cottages in New York City
Alex
Who said anything about New York?
Ophelia
I’ll call you on Monday when I’m back at Sorrowsong, ok????
I pack my mother’s things into a bag, wondering why, after a life in a house with seven women, I’m no closer to understanding what goes on inside their heads.