27 #3
“You okay?” he asks so softly, my eyes burn with tears from the only person tonight who has spoken to me without a hint of anger.
I nod, and he caresses my cheek.
Mathew barks out a cruel laugh. “What’s this?” he asks. “Are you sleeping with him? You really will use anyone for your own benefit, won’t you?”
Both Taina and Anders whirl on him, and I somehow am able to run in front of them both, placing a hand on each chest.
“Please stop.”
Anders firmly grips my wrist, pulls me away. “That’s the bastard who threatened you, isn’t it?” Anders asks. “He wanted to kick you out even with nowhere to go.”
Taina shoves a finger at Anders. “You told him and not me? Are you kidding me?”
A screeching of tires tears through the air, and we all turn to the sound. Valerie is storming toward us, barefoot, with a wild look in her eyes. Oh no.
“She knows,” I warn Anders. “She knows what I’ve been doing.”
His expression remains impassive as he faces Valerie. He stands in my path so that her fury lands on him first. “Was it all a lie?” she asks him. “You never really got behind the wedding. She never convinced you.”
“It’s true,” Anders says.
Valerie laughs harshly. “I knew you hated the idea of us marrying, but I thought you hated Nick more. I can’t believe you tried to use him to manipulate me.”
Anders falters. “What?” He glances at me. “What is she talking about?”
“I was going to tell you today,” I hurriedly get in, “but you were so stressed about the plane, about missing the party, I thought I’d catch you up later.”
Anders digs the bottom of his palms into his eyes. “Lucinda, no. You should have run this by me. I would have never let this happen.”
“I didn’t know!” I get out, the words a desperate plea nobody cares for, words that hold no meaning. “I didn’t know he was a father, the age difference.”
“You didn’t know that he tried to control my whole life?” Valerie shouts. “You didn’t know that he managed my day, what I ate, who I spent time with, what I was allowed to do, wear, say. You didn’t know he was a manipulative bastard that ruined my life? I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to.”
“You wanted to get married where he took you on your first date,” I explain, try to see the reasoning behind this, find the lost communication. “You said it’s where you realized true love exists.”
“Because of John.” Veins pop out of her neck. “Anywhere Nick took me, all my favorite places, felt tainted, felt unreachable. John spent months and months bringing me to all the places I loved and hated, and showed me that I could form new, better memories. That’s what I meant.”
Panic blooms from every pore. “He tracks your location when you’re out.”
“Because I have a tendency to wander off on my own, and he wants to make sure I’m somewhere safe.”
“You guys barely show any affection.”
“Oh my God, Lucy. He’s shy, is that a crime?
Is it so horrible that he’s this awkward, weird, quiet, foolish man?
I love him anyway! I love the way he makes me feel like me.
No matter what he is, he’s never a bad person.
That’s all that matters to me. You had no right to try and ruin that.
I thought we were friends.” She shoots out the last word like venom before turning on her brother. “And we’re blood.”
Mathew says, “You really ruin everything you touch.” Turning to Anders, he sneers, “You really think she cares about you? She only attaches herself to established, wealthy people—people who can take care of her, because she doesn’t know how to do it herself.
She wouldn’t give you an ounce of attention otherwise. ”
“Not true.” I can barely get it out, and the sound of the words feels like a lie anyway.
“Lucinda,” Anders says, like a plea.
“She ruins weddings for a living,” Mathew says. “You think she believes in love? That doesn’t matter to her. Save yourself the mess she brings wherever she goes.”
Not true, not true. It’s not true. Right?
But if it wasn’t, then the weight of everything I’ve done, everything I’ve done wrong, shouldn’t squeeze into my bones like they’re in the process of being smashed by a handpress.
I can take a lot, but not this. Not the eyes of people I love and care about watching me like I’m a stranger, waiting to hear words they deem empty.
Rightly so. They owe me nothing. Not anymore.
If I reach out a hand, if I try to defend myself, everyone will recoil. And witnessing that, feeling the cold of rejection so firmly, is something I can’t bear.
There’s only one person, a single human, who, no matter what I’ve done, no matter who they’re against, will forgive me and save me from any pain if they could.
My sister.
I meet her gaze, and I see her register every thought and emotion running through me. See her own counter it—the betrayal, the anger, the sympathy, and understanding.
And what overwhelms it the most is the loyalty of love.
In a blur of motion, she grabs my hand and pulls me away. Gripping her keys, she shoves me in a car, and we drive away. Together.
And my sister’s presence, no, her very existence, is the only thing that keeps me from breaking entirely.