Page 90 of Love Me

“You’re miserable.”

My lips pull up into a tired smile. “You are too, Abi. You just hide it better than me. We’ll find a way,” I insist.

A deep sigh rolls out of her mouth. “We expected too much, and losing them is the price for… It’s irrelevant. We had to protect them from the Family.”

“Maybe we were wrong. We didn’t treat them as equal partners when we were with them. We put them on a pedestal and decided we knew what was best for them. And maybe we did, but look at them. They’re still alive. Angry but unaware.”

I sway my chin toward the house.

“Let’s get this over with.”

I open the door for Abi, and she wraps her arm around my elbow. When we step inside, our parents greet us, pride etched in their eyes.

“The pride and future of this family,” Felix says.

Abi does a small curtsy, holding an elegant pose before giving air kisses to each of them.

“Look at you two, so beautiful and strong, as if we made them to rule,” her father says next.

Bile rises in my throat. This nonsense grates on my last nerve. Abi sends me a pointed stare.

None of us can afford to make them question our loyalties.

“What is the status of the renovation? They’re working round the clock, right? I don’t want you mingling with the lowlifes for long.”

“We’ll move back in once they’re done,” I say.

“By then the authorities will know what caused the fire. That ‘no foul play’ was too good to be true.”

“Trust me. No one would dare come after us.”

With that conversation over, Abigail chats with our parents at the table while I eat my lobster soup.

“You look tired,” my mother whispers.

I would have burst into laughter, but it would show I care. Which I don’t.

“I have a busy life.”

“Your father told me you want to work at the company.”

I place the spoon down. Turning to her, I offer her my complete attention. What the fuck is up with her?

“I do.”

Her lips purse, nodding, and I just want this night to end.

“We’re thinking of a spring wedding,” Abi’s mother says.

They’re not wasting any time. I take another spoonful, but the delicious taste has turned bitter, making it harder to swallow.

“Perfect. The sooner, the better,” I say.

Just a few months. I have to hurry.

Abi blinks away the panic and locks her hands on her lap, knuckles whitening with anguish.

After an excruciating hour, our parents finally excuse us.

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