My throat closed. Tears slid faster before I could swipe them away.
“And now you cry,” she sighed. “Again. As if tears mean anything to anyone.”
My father reached for my hand again.
“Do you know what every other dynasty wife asked me last night?”
She didn’t wait for an answer.
“They asked why our daughter still has no prospects. Why she floats around the edges of every event as if she doesn’t understand her place.”
My breath hitched.
“Oh, don’t make that face. You know it’s the truth.”
My father’s jaw tightened. “Massie—enough.”
“I’m merely sharing what they ask me.” She shrugged. “Should I lie to her? Should I pretend she isn’t falling behind everyone else?”
The tears wouldn’t stop now. I let them fall. It was too exhausting to keep catching them.
You’re boring. Plain. No one will want you.
Vince’s voice overlapped with hers again—You’re too much work. I don’t want you.
“You need to toughen up. Nobody wants a girl whose only interest is to stare at a screen.”
Grief rose in my throat, thick and choking.
“Honestly, I never imagined you’d be this sensitive. Not with the amount we invested in you.”
“Invested?” I repeated quietly.
“Yes. Education. Etiquette. Wardrobe. Connections. Everything you needed to succeed. Yet you sit here acting like the victim of a life we crafted for you.”
The glass trembled in my hand.
She gave me one last critical sweep. “You really should fix your face. Tears do nothing flattering for your complexion.”
Another drop fell, hitting the tablecloth.
My father swallowed. “Madeline… are you sure nothing happened today?”
He knew. Or at least sensed that today wasn’t like the others. Normally, I could take her corrections, fold them into the same box, lock it. Tonight. I did not have the strength.
“Something always happens in that dramatic mind of hers. Everything becomes a catastrophe. A wound she carries like a badge.”
“She’s spiraling,” my father said.
“She’s indulging herself,” my mother countered. “There’s a difference.”
My pulse thudded in my ears.
“People wonder if something is wrong with you,” she added. “Sometimes I wonder the same.”
The tears came harder, hot and endless.
“How long will you cry tonight? Will it be another hour? Two? You’re exhausting to manage when you get into these moods.” she asked pleasantly.
