Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 82094 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82094 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
“You could always sell some of these paintings,” Cassidy mutters.
Sara shoots her a deadly look. “Don’t be rude.”
But I wave her off. “No, she’s right,” I say and laugh lightly. “I mean, look at this place. It’s like a museum, right? A museum to our own arrogance. What’s the point of all this stuff? What’s the point of any of it?”
Robyn puts a hand on my leg. “Don’t let him do this to you, Brice. You’re better than this.”
“Are any of us better than this?” I look around at them and shake my head. “What Carmine did was wrong. I don’t deny that and I’m angry as all heck right now, but Daddy broke the law. Daddy’s going to jail even if he’s home right now waiting for his court date. I mean, what’s the point of all this if I can’t even trust my own family? What’s the point of anything?”
The girls are quiet. I can tell they’re at a loss. How am I supposed to explain the depths of all this to them? Sara and Robyn are closest to understanding, but Cassidy looks around and sees wealth beyond her wildest dreams and I’m sure it’s impossible for her to truly comprehend that none of this is ours, none of this stuff means a thing, it’s all just trappings and dressings and objects for show. I don’t own a thing in this place. It’s like I live on a beautiful movie set, and I’m constantly aware that the furniture is rented and the stylist might quit at any second.
We’re all just a piece of the family, the great and glorious Rowe family, whatever that is. I don’t even know anymore.
The worst part is, I didn’t feel like this before Carmine. Maybe I wasn’t into the idea of the great and glorious family but at least I understood it and thought that it mattered. Then I’m with Carmine and he makes me see how empty everything is, how empty I feel all the time, simply by filling me up in ways I never dreamed possible. It’s not fair that it all started from such a terrible, ugly place, because for a little while there, I felt like we had something special. Something real.
And now it’s gone and I’m left with even less than before.
Sara gets up and comes over. She sits on my couch and moves close to me. She doesn’t reach out and hug me or anything but that’s about as touchy-feely as she gets, and I appreciate the gesture. Robyn hugs me hard enough for both of them, and even Cassidy comes over and snuggles in next to Robyn. I stay like that for a little while, only dimly aware that I’m crying, and I try to take solace in my friends. No matter how dark things are right now, at least they’re here to help me, and I love them for it. I wouldn’t even blame them if they stayed far away, especially Cassidy—she knows how dangerous it is to be around me right now—and yet here they are, drinking prosecco and talking shit on my gangster ex-fiancé like this is totally normal.
It’s not normal, not by a longshot, but I’m trying to pretend. And they’re helping.
We chat for a while longer, finish the bottle, and eventually the girls go home. Cassidy lingers behind while Robyn and Sara head to the car. “You sure you’ll be okay? Seriously, I have nothing going on for me back at the apartment. I can move in here and live in your closet if you want.”
I grin at her and give her a hug. “I’ve always wanted a closet friend.”
“The sound of my late-night typing might keep you awake but I’m sure you’ll get used to it.”
“On second thought, you’d better go home. I need my beauty rest now more than ever since I’m back on the market.”
She smiles sadly at my stupid joke and kisses my cheek. “I love you, Bricey. I’m so sorry about all this.”
“Love you too.”
She hurries off and I watch her go before heading back into the house.
I find Grandpa in the office. Louisa nearly blocks my way in the hall outside his door— “Your grandfather promised I wouldn’t let anyone bother him, please don’t go in there, Brice.”—but I step past her and open the door. Daddy’s nowhere to be seen—I haven’t spoken with him in a couple days, not since we got back from Philly and had dinner together—but Grandpa doesn’t seem worried about Daddy’s absence.
I linger on the threshold and second-guess myself, wondering if maybe Louisa was right, this isn’t a good time and it’s rude to shove inside, but I push that thought out of my mind. I need to stop worrying about what’s good and what’s polite and just do what needs doing.