I circle the rim of my cup with my index finger, thinking about how to answer. Dante is somehow connected to the group from Lily and Lorenzo’s going-away party. It was the first time I’d ever seen him, and although I could’ve asked more about his connection, I decided not to because I don’t want to grow curious about him. Distance is always best.
Right now, he serves a purpose by keeping my friends off my back, paying rent, and being useful to fuck when I need to take my mind off of things. Well, when he’s not trying to pry into my life, that is.
Like last night.
And the asshole had the audacity to leave four times the amount of rent on the kitchen counter. I grit my teeth and drop the thoughts around Dante, becoming irritated by how effortlessly he’s forcing me to pay him attention—for all the wrong reasons.
“I suppose it’s going well. We don’t see much of one another, so it works perfectly for me. Apparently, he’s a doctor, and I don’t really care to find out more, since it’ll only be temporary.”
“Oh, so he’s not looking for a long-term arrangement?” Sienna asks.
Ara’s gaze narrows on me slightly. I don’t know why she’s looking at me like that. I can’t often read what she’s thinking, but I wonder if it’s because she somehow knows how much goes unsaid.
They ask too many questions lately, and so I immediately put my wall up, terrified by any of them getting too close. I don’t want them to see this ugly, hateful, spiteful inner turmoil that I’ve been consumed by.
I don’t want to be reprimanded for being harsh or cruel again. I just truly want to be left alone. So, before they can dive deeper, I cut it off.
“No. I told him it’ll only be temporary until my friends stop riding my ass and let me be.”
Tension ripples around our table.
“Still returning to default mode, I see,” Ara says in her no-nonsense way.
I grind my teeth, irritated because Ara never pulls her punches, always holding me accountable. The others are easier to push away, but she remains unwavering, which only pisses me off more.
“You know we’re only concerned about you,” Sienna is quick to say, trying to cover for Ara’s direct approach. “If you’ll just tell us what happened to Lorraine, we can help you, Romi. Please?”
It’s as easy as that, the mention of her name."You killed her! What kind of friend are you?"Lorraine’s mother’s voice infiltrates my mind, and I close my eyes, trying to shove the cruelty of her slicing words away. It takes me back to that time and place where a horde of people stared at me, whispering about the accusations: that isolation and pain. And me immediately running away like a coward. I was someone who always stood up in defiance, and I so quickly crumbled, terrified that they’d see the truth of my involvement.
My friends have heard the gossip about Lorraine’s funeral. Hell, comments have even been spewed all over my socials because of it. It’s my personal hell, reliving it daily, and I don’t want them prying it open wider as I try my best to push it down and away, hoping that eventually it’ll simply disappear and no longer have a hold over my life. But I just can’t escape it.
I don’t deserve their pity or their patience. I hate that they don’t see this ugliness inside of me, that they only see what they want to see. I hate that they truly believe I’m innocent in all of this—when I’m not.
“There have been comments on your social media about what happened at her funeral. We don’t believe any of it,” Ara says, trying to reassure me. “If you need help with anything, you’ll let us know, won’t you?”
“I don’t need help!” I push out of my chair, the screech echoing through the café. Ara’s bodyguard immediately stands, and other patrons stare at me, shocked. Shame consumes me, and a lump forms in my throat.
“I’m actually not feeling well today, so I think I’ll go home.” I pick up Borris and pull him close to my chest. He’s my constant,and I know that, despite everything I’ve done, he loves me. That I still have a small part of Lorraine to protect.
“Romi, wait. I'm sorry. Please stay,” Sienna calls, but I’m already opening the door, the cool air of the morning slapping me awake.
“Let her go,” I hear Ara say from behind me, grateful that, at the very least, she’s forcing Sienna to remain instead of chasing after me. Because if she did, I’d most likely explode just to keep her at a distance.
My phone begins to buzz, and when I look down, I curse. What god-awful timing, and it’s so early in the morning as well. But considering I haven’t answered any of my agent's calls, I know I need to pick up, especially if I don’t want her resorting to calling my mother again.
I take a breath and answer.
“Oh, finally, you answered,” Janet says, sounding relieved.
“Good morning, Janet,” I say, walking Borris through the park. He sniffs at everything curiously, tail wagging.
“Don’t you 'good morning' me. I’ve been trying to call you for weeks.”
“You said it was okay to have some time off.”
“Some.There are only so many showcases I can cancel or reorganize. I understand you’re in mourning, and the blip to your reputation from the funeral is frustrating, but we have contracts we need to fulfill. I’ve narrowed down your appearance list immensely, but we still have agreements in place for your new collection. Please tell me you’ve been working on the pieces.”
Borris approaches a dog twice his size, tail wagging, and against his better instincts, attempts to play with him, even when the rottweiler looks like he could accidentally sit on him.
