“You romanticize all men, especially Dad.”
“I don’t romanticize Dad; I have compassion for his suffering.”
“Suffering he caused himself.”
“Don’t—”
“You need to start seeing things from other angles than the one that suits your narrative, Cora. Dad cheated on Mom for years. Other women and the bistro were everything to him. He pushed Mom away, timeafter time. You were younger than me, but you couldn’t have been that blind. And when Mom finally found a slice of happiness for herself and left, he realized what he had lost. And selfishly put that burden on you.”
You never deserved any of this.
My father’s words hit me like a freight train of revelation.
“What are you talking about?” My mind refuses her recount of the events.
“Apparently, something you don’t want to hear.”
I put the glass down and stare, a thousand thoughts fighting for attention. I want to yell at Tessa and tell her to stop vilifying our father. I want to stand up and run away from this conversation.
But haven’t I questioned the narrative she just mentioned? Like the stories I write, where I try to show the good in us… am I only seeing the same in real life?
“I went to Ethan’s grave…” I tell her about my discovery. One I haven’t shared with anyone besides Xander, because… I’m ashamed.
Tessa sighs. “It doesn’t surprise me, but poor kid.”
“I guess I loved Ethan too much to see… I romanticized what we had.” I chuckle humorlessly at her earlier comment.
“Like all men. Case in point—your romantic notion of Paul with the fucking umbrella… that is not romantic, it’s a common decency. You tend to idealize men. And most of all, Dad.”
“Why have you never told me?”
“I guess I wanted to protect you. And then we just stopped talking at one point… when I became concerned with protecting only my own image.”
I look at her, deadpan. “What image? The cold bitch?”
She smirks. “When you marry a rich, influential man, it’s in your job description.” She takes a sip.
We both chuckle. “I’d better remember that and sharpen my teeth.”
Her eyes widen. “I knew the Lamborghini guy wasn’t just a friend. Is he the same guy who is investing?”
Shit. How did she figure it out so quickly? I guess I couldn’t hide it from her for much longer.
Especially since we’re flying to meet Xander’s family, and there are public events to attend while we’re there. The last thing I need is for Tessa to read about my marriage.
“The Lamborghini guy is Xander Stone, my husband.”
Tessa’s jaw falls. She pushes her sunglasses into her hair, and then she laughs, the staccato of it turning heads. “You should be an actress. I believed you for a moment.”
“Or maybe I’m convincing because it’s true.”
She leans back. Her eyebrows narrowed, she opens her mouth, but no words come out for a few attempts.
She stares at me for a moment. “Why didn’t you tell me you were getting married?”
“We didn’t tell anyone. And you were going through your separation; there wasn’t a right time.”
“Of course, Miss I-Sacrifice-Myself-for-Everyone didn’t invite me to her wedding because she needs to spare my feelings. God, I hate how you always pretend to put others first.”
