“Yeah, they’re Christian Louboutin.” I smile. “They have a bow on the back. And the necklace is a custom piece.”
“So, it’s the money? That’s why you’re staying with him?”
“Nate had money, Kylie.” I don’t like her tone. “I would never stay with a man because of his bank account.”
“Then help me fucking understand.” Her voice is terse. “You’re going from a single red flag to diving into a sea full of them, and you think I’m going to keep my mouth shut about it?”
“Okay, Kylie. Look.”
“No, you look.” She glares at me. “He’s a murderer, Autumn. He’s killed people, and once you’re not of value to him, when he gets tired of fucking you—and your goddamn mind—he’ll get rid of you, too.”
“I don’t?—”
“Whatever you have with him is not real, Autumn,” she says. “Outside of money, what does he do for you emotionally? Does he even have emotions?”
I say nothing.
“Where do you honestly see this going?” Her skin is beet red. “You’re not going to be riding off into the sunset with him. Either he’ll die, you’ll die, or best case, he’ll end up in prison and you’ll end up barely clinging to life support until you finally give way.”
“You know what,” I say, my chest on fire, “I don’t think?—”
“You’re not thinking at all.” She interrupts. “But that’s okay. I’ll do it for you.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means, I’m done talking to you forever this time,” she says. “I’ll see you again at your funeral.”
End of Episode 19.1
Sweet Chaos
EPISODE 19.2
Ryder
The gate swings open, welcoming me home to a beautiful sight I wish I could hold onto longer.
My sweet Adeline…
Donning a light purple dress, she’s standing on the front steps of the estate, waving and smiling as I pull past the fountain.
I step out and she runs to my arms like always, like this might be the last time before we have to say goodbye for a while again.
“Miss Foglienne didn’t have to reprimand me while you were gone at all,” she says. “And Miss Jane says I’m the most well-behaved seven-year-old she’s ever seen.”
“That’s good to know.” I smile.You’re still going back to London…
“Are we staying up until midnight until you turn eight?” I ask. “I don’t want to miss that.”
Her eyes widen and she gasps, as if she’s nearly forgotten her own birthday.
“Is there still time for Chef to make me a custom cake?”
“Ten steps ahead of you.” I kiss her forehead. “He started working on it last week, and I think you’ll love the design.”
“Do I have any presents waiting for me at midnight?”
“Always.”