Ricky pulls himself up on a stool too as I clench my jaw against my tears and start to make plates for the two of them, wanting quiet desperately to do something kind for them and haunted by the fact that nothing I do can really ever put a dent in the sadness of this day. The children are quiet as w
The sobbing pauses a little, deteriorating into sniffs. “Who is it?” “It’s me. Um, it’s Iris,” I call. There’s a long pause and then a low laugh. “Fuck off, Iris.” I sigh, something about Giana’s words giving me the courage to quit being polite. I reach for the handle, twist, and push open the
“You have to eat,” I say, shrugging. “I fed the kids. They’re working their way through a gallon of ice cream now.” She laughs a little, genuinely, and then raises a hand to her mouth in surprise – like…like that’s the first time she’s done that since she found out that he’s dead. And she wasn’t a
“I’m not a monster, Iris,” Christian repeats, a little frustration coming into his voice as well. “I’m just doing what I need to in order to keep us safe.” “And do you seriously think that Giana is the threat?” I snap, turning towards him with a frown. “A woman who just lost her husband, her life,
“Where are Nico and Frankie?” I ask quietly. “They’re doing their jobs,” he replies, his slightly raised eyebrow letting me know that I don’t need to know any more than that and shouldn’t ask. But it has the opposite effect. “Christian,” I groan, leaning hard against the counter as I shake my he
“A woman who betrayed me, who tried to get me to marry a girl who would spill my secrets to her my entire life.” I shake my head, not giving in to it. “Not a sin worth losing her home.” “You have to get tougher,” Christian says, his voice hard. I just purse my lips and take a long sip of my wine
About an hour later, after making Lucy and Bianca their plates and cleaning up the kitchen, I’m doing as instructed. Laying in bed, staring at the ceiling, a full glass of wine on the bedside table. The television is on – but honestly, I have no idea what is even playing. I have no real interest in
It takes a moment before I decide what I need. “Tell me,” I whisper. “What’s coming next.” Christian stays still for a moment before he nods, shifting and opening his arms to me before he begins. I accept the invitation, moving eagerly to press myself against his chest. He folds those arms warm