It’s hard for me to be here, confronted with what could be my reality soon.
But I didn’t want to abandon Beck.
And the truth is, I need to face my fears. This is about as real as it gets.
I travel with Beck and his sisters, in his A7, to the Cartwright house where the wake is taking place. Esther points out the Colbert family home as we drive past, and my eyes almost pop out of their sockets.
It makes Ivy bitchface’s Medina home look like someone’s guest house.
I can’t see the property fully as it’s enclosed behind chunky walls and thick gates, but the roof juts out over the boundary wall, indicating it’s several stories high. It stretches from left to right for eternity as we drive by, and I’m only now realizing the true extent of Beck’s family’s wealth and the true extent of the trust fund situation.
Beck hasn’t said anything to his sisters yet, and I haven’t pushed. It’s not my call to make. Seeing this now makes me realize I can’t fully empathize with Beck’s situation.
Garrick’s family is wealthy, but this is on a whole other level.
Beck is not flashy with his wealth at all. His home is tastefully and expensively decorated with the best of everything, but it’s still quite a modest home, and I love that he picked something older rather than opting for a penthouse in one of the city’s modern apartment blocks.
His home has tons of character, just like its owner.
The Cartwright home is ostentatious and ridiculously large, stretching over three stories and across a plot of acres upon acres of well-maintained land. Inside, the grandiose styling houses expensive furniture and exquisite fittings. I cling to Beck and his sisters like my life depends on it. If I get lost in this place, I’d need GPS to navigate my way out.
“I’m glad Beck has you,” Sarah, the elder sister says, when Beck is pulled away by David Cartwright to speak to someone. The massive room is full of people conversing, eating, and drinking. Luxurious silver and gold velvet drapes frame each window, and magnificent chandeliers hang from the high ceiling. High tables with matching long-legged chairs are positioned near the overflowing buffet table, but most people are standing around them rather than sitting. Servers mingle, carrying trays of canapés and wine, and I find it all a bit distasteful. “This will hit Beck harder than he realizes,” Sarah adds.
“I agree. No matter how much you think you are prepared, you don’t know how you’re going to feel in the moment.”
“They had a strange relationship,” Esther says, snatching two glasses of wine from a passing server. She thanks him and hands a glass to me. “It never seemed like love to me.”
I swallow a mouthful of wine to avoid replying.
“It wasn’t love,” Sarah says. “Beck was settling because it’s what Daddy wanted.”
“He told you that?” Esther asks, glancing around as she adds, “We should probably cease this conversation. It’s not exactly respectful.”
“True, and no, no one told me. It’s the conclusion I have drawn,” Sarah confirms, sipping from her sparkling water. She offered to be the designated driver so Beck could have a few drinks.
“He’s different since you came into his life, Stevie.” Esther effortlessly switches topics as I watch Beck tug at the collar of his white dress shirt as another couple approaches and engages him in conversation.
“I have noticed the change too,” Sarah agrees, smiling at me. “Honestly, I can’t remember a time when my brother seemed happier.”
“You understand we’re just friends, right?” I feel the need to make that clear.
“Beck has explained,” Sarah says, her features softening.
“We’re sorry to hear about your boyfriend.” Esther briefly squeezes my hand. “I can’t imagine how difficult it must be.”
“Thank you.”
“Today must be hard for you,” Sarah adds, looking sympathetic as she flips her long blonde hair over her shoulders.
“It is, but I wanted to be here for Beck.”
The sisters exchange a knowing look, and I decide that’s my cue to intervene in Beck’s conversation. He’s growing increasingly agitated. “Excuse me a minute.” I step aside. “I think your brother needs rescuing.”
I walk with confidence I don’t feel in the direction of Beck and the people surrounding him, hoping they don’t see my hands shaking or my lower lip wobbling. Beck can’t see me approaching, because he has his back to me, but his father can. Carlton Colbert’s eyes skim over me from head to toe in a way that feels like he’s undressing me.
Ugh.
What a creep.
