Page 139 of When She Loves
What a fucking joke.
I turn the lock and open the front door. My sisters stand in front of a black car.
I frown. “What are you doing here?”
“Let us in,” Elena demands, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder with an angry flick of her hand. “You’ve kept us waiting out here long enough.”
I step aside, letting her and Fabi pass.
The second I close the door, Elena whirls around and gives me a scathing look. “You look like shit.”
I catch my reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall. She’s right. I look like I haven’t slept in weeks. Truth is, I don’t think I’ve gotten more than three hours a night since Nero and Cleo left.
“I’ve had trouble sleeping.”
“Yeah, I wonder why,” she says, her tone accusing.
Fabi touches my arm. Her gaze drops to the glass in my hand. Worry flashes across her features, and for a second, I think she’s going to embrace me.
Thankfully, she holds herself back. We never hug. It’s not the kind of affection I’ve ever welcomed.
“We want to talk,” Fabi says. “Let’s sit down.”
The alcohol is making my brain sluggish. I’m still trying to process the fact that they’re here. “When did you get in?”
“We came straight from the airport.” She tugs on my sleeve. “Come.”
I follow her, feeling like a stranger in my own home. Elena walks behind us. We spread out in the living room. I sink into the sofa and finish off half of my whiskey in one gulp. Fabi and Elena sit down across from me. An expectant air fills the room, the kind that precedes a difficult conversation.
My sisters and I don’t have those kinds of conversations though. In fact, we barely talk. They don’t like me very much. And I don’t know them very well. We’re family, but we aren’t friends. I’d die for them, but I’d never go to them for help.
I place my glass on the side table. “You said you want to talk. So talk.”
Elena clenches her fists in her lap. “We heard what happened to Cleo and her father. We heard Nero is gone.”
“Correct.”
Fabi swallows “When you say gone, you mean…”
“Gonegone.”
A stunned silence permeates through the room. My sisters have known Nero for most of their lives, but they weren’t close with him either. And yet Fabi starts crying. Elena swears and turns to comfort her. I watch them embrace, Fabi tucking her face against Elena’s shoulder.
Must be nice to have someone hold you when you’re upset.
I stand up. I don’t know what to do with myself. Every movement feels wrong, like I’m an actor on stage but I’ve lost the script.
“I’ll get you some water,” I mutter.
Elena shoots me a glare over her shoulder. “She doesn’t need water. Sit down.”
It’s like she wants me to witness this. Why? “I don’t understand. You weren’t friends with Nero.”
“Damn it, Rafe. So what? We still cared for him. And Fabi’s not just crying over Nero. She’s crying overyou. He wasyourbest friend, wasn’t he? Is it true that you gave the order to kill him?”
“Yes.” The next part comes easily. It’s rehearsed and memorized. “I had to. It was the only way to avoid war with the Ferraros.”
Fabi pulls away from Elena and sniffles. “It’s so horrible. How are you feeling? Are you all right?”
