“What?” Bradley asked as he drove.
“Nothing,” I murmured, my foot tapping listlessly.
“What happened to your forehead?”
I picked at my thumb in my lap, all while I watched the passing trees. “You really don’t remember?”
Tense silence filled the cab of the truck. Finally, he sighed. “Doll, look. I … can’t really remember a whole lot from this past weekend. I know you showed up. I know you saw my alcohol. I remember a lot ofyelling, but … Are you trying to say I did that?”
I didn’t have the energy to answer. He could use his two brain cells to figure out the answer if he really cared.
“If I did, it was an—”
“Accident,” I finished for him as I closed my eyes. “So I’ve heard.”
More silence filled the tight space. “I can see that you’re mad.”
“Mad?” I asked dully.
“Mad, upset, whatever. You’reemotional. I’m sorry. I want you to know that, regardless of what happened this weekend, I love you. Okay? I’m not mad that you showed up unannounced or started a fight with me over the alcohol. There’s nothing in this world that matters more to me than you. I-I guess I have a drinking problem. I’ll go get help for it, okay? If you’re saying I really did that to your head, I’ll—”
I whipped around in my seat so that my body faced him. He stared at me with startled eyes as I pulled the turtleneck down to show him his hands staining my skin with their vileness. “Youloveme? Nothing matters more than me? What an interesting way you choose to show your affection.”
The color drained from his face as his gaze bounced between the road and my neck. I turned back in my seat to press my headagainst the window. My thumb burned as I peeled back a layer of skin along the nail. I gritted my teeth and pressed down on the tear, relishing the pain that came with it. This pain was better. This pain was far easier to stomach than the rest. More. I needed more pain to dull the one in my soul.
When we pulled into my dad’s driveway, Scarlett’s white G-Wagon sat in its spot. We parked behind her, leaving the space for Dad to park whenever he got home from the office.
Bradley cut the engine off, dousing us into more silence. I felt his eyes searing into my profile, but the lingering lacerations scouring my heart kept me from meeting his gaze.
“Serenity,” he croaked. “I am so fucking sorry. I swear, I—”
“I don’t want your apology. I’m done with apologies.”
“I can fix this. Ican. I’ll go get help for my drinking. I’ll—I’ll stop going out with friends. I’ll finally make real plans to settle down. A ring, marriage, a family. I’ll do it, Dollface. I will. Please, let me fix this.”
His words fell on deaf ears. The curtain of the farmhouse window fluttered as Scarlett tried to peer out secretly, and my face burned with shame as she spied on us.
“I have to get dinner started,” I said monotonously before climbing out of the truck.
His jaw worked, and I knew he wanted to push to finish the conversation. But thankfully, he let it go. He didn’t like people in our business, just as much as I didn’t, though he’d never think ill of Scarlett. Despite hearing all of my horror stories involving the woman, he was as much under her spell as Dad was.
Maybe he’d fucked her, too. They were both heartless cheaters, after all.
The minute we walked inside, Scarlett looked over her shoulder from where she lounged back on the couch—as though she hadn’t just been watching us through the window. Her eyesbrightened upon seeing Bradley at my side, and she beamed at him.
“Bradley!” She got off the couch and swiftly wrapped her slender arms around him. “I’m so glad you could make it for dinner.”
Bradley wore an equally warm grin as he hugged her back. “You know I wouldn’t miss family dinner.”
Scarlett kept a gentle hand on Bradley’s forearm while she looked at me. Her face tightened in a way only I ever noticed. “The stuff to make dinner is in the kitchen.”
I nodded and excused myself, eager to not breathe the same air as my step-mother. Instead of following me, Bradley settled in the living room with her. Their animated conversation about Bradley’s current job assignment—Addie’s house—was my only company as I moved about the kitchen.
Every time I was invited over for dinner, I wasn’t really a guest. I showed up and was immediately tasked with cooking the meal for everyone, just as I’d done all the years I’d lived with my dad and step-mother. My distaste for cooking was typically my companion while I made the meals, but tonight, I didn’t mind the task. I was thankful that it kept my mind and body busy. Anything was better than feeling trapped in this never-ending nightmare.
The two phonies laughed about something in the living room. The sound was a reminder of how much Dad and Scarlett had always loved Bradley. They saw his good grades and sport accolades during high school as signs of his excellence, and when he began working for Dad, that praise only became greater. Bradley kissed the ground they walked on, and they worshiped his every move.
They love him more than they love me.
