Page 26 of Downfall

My mother pulls a face. “She’s a Montague. That makes her a conniving bitch by nature. We can’t assume anything.”

I nod but I’m so over this argument. I’ve never even seen Sofia near Otto. In fact I’ve never seen her interested in any man for that matter. Besides she has independence, and most of the Montague fortune, why would she throw that away for a man twice her age who would clearly control every aspect of her life?

“Now that Horace is gone we have a unique opportunity to take them down.”

I take another sip. That’s all my family thinks about. This bitter old rivalry. It’s all consuming. I don’t even know what we’d do if we did truly defeat them because it feels like our whole existence is tied up with theirs, our whole purpose certainly is.

Horace was one of the lucky few; he’d died peacefully enough in his bed. Unlike most of his kin. Unlike most of ours.

For the briefest moment I think of my cousin. Of Tyrone’s older brother, Tybalt. The man Roman killed. The man whose death forced him into exile.

For a moment my heart stops. Ashisname reverberates, as his face cuts to my very soul.

“Rose?” My mother says and I realise I’ve clenched my eyes shut. Clenched my jaw shut too. I can’t think of him. I won’t think of him.

That old pain. The bitter, gut wrenching grief twists inside and it takes all my strength to beat it back down.

“It’s okay.” I say smiling. Replacing my pain with the same false cheery mask I wear. Rose Capulet, the sunshine princess of Verona Bay. That’s what they actually call me. I deserve an award for my acting performance because I truly doubt anyone, even my mother, sees the real me.

“I meant what I said. I’m here for you. Here if you want to talk.”

“I don’t.” I say. I can’t talk about it. I’m done talking about it. That part of my life is over. Gone for good. All my hopes, all my dreams, all of my stupid naive beliefs were shattered the day that man walked away, the day he showed me what he really was and exactly what I’d meant to him.

Nothing.

That’s what.

And talking about it, going through it again won’t make it better. It won’t solve anything. All it will do is hurt me more.

And I’m done hurting. I’m done with all of it. I want to be free, I want to live the life I have, no matter how limited it is, no matter how constrained, because I don’t believe I will be saddled to Paris forever.

Somehow I know our marriage won’t last.

Either he’ll grow bored of me and grant me a divorce or he’ll do something reckless, something no one can ignore. And when that happens I’ll be free. I’ll be free of all of them. Of my father as well as my husband. And it’s that thought that sustains me, that thought that keeps me going when I wash my blood off my skin, when I press an ice pack to a new bruise, when I clear up the mess of some object he’s smashed to pieces in his rage.

No Paris will not be the end of me. One way or another I will get my emancipation from him.

“Let’s do dinner then.”

I blink confused. “We’re out now…” I say.

She laughs. “Not just us. I mean your father and I and you and Paris. Let’s spend a little time together. It’ll be good for you. Good for the pair of you. Maybe remind you both of why your marriage is a good thing.”

“Is it?” I scoff.

“Of course it is.” She says. “You make a good couple. You just need to get past this blip.”

I nod. There’s not much to say. It’s not a blip but I don’t have the energy to argue about it and as much as I know my mother cares, she won’t see it any other way no matter how much I protest.

“Dinner sounds good.” I say smiling while internally I couldn’t think of anything worse.

Roman

Aweek has passed. A week that I’ve sat here, in the dark obscurity of the great Montague house. Planning. Conspiring.

Every time the door goes Ben and I freeze. We’re lurking on the top floor, in what was once servants quarters. It’s despicable that a Montague should be existing like this. It’s a mockery of our name, our legacy.

But it’s not just the Capulets who created this situation. My father did too because he was too weak in the end, too lost after my exile to do anything constructive. He just shut down, rolled over like a dog, and let them fuck everything.

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