Page 79 of Where Quiet Hearts Scream
“Trilby, at some point you have to give yourself a break. You can’t keep blaming yourself for the fact we need to behave a little differently now as a family. But Tess’s situation does sound a bit extreme. How’s Allegra?”
Trilby rolls her eyes. “Pulling her hair out.”
“Really? Why?”
“Well, you know, Papa isn’t around so much these days and Bambi is becoming a bit of a handful. She’s been sneaking out of the house to parties and falling back on her studies.”
“She’s seventeen though,” I counter. “Isn’t that what we all did?” Then something Trilby just said sounds in my mind like a foghorn. “Wait… Why isn’t Papa around so much? Where is he?”
Trilby squints up at me, almost afraid of my reaction. “He stays with Antonia a lot.”
“At her house?”
“I guess so.”
“Wow,” I say, then we both fall silent. Papa has moved faster than I expected. It feels as though he onlystarted talking to Antonia at the lunch at Cristiano’s before the wedding. That was less than eight months ago. Now he’s abandoning our baby sister to go live at this woman’s house part time?
“It doesn’t sound like Papa,” I mutter, taking a bite of fig wrapped in prosciutto. Not to mention hypocritical if he’s making Tess stay home while he stays over at his girlfriend’s house.
“No, but he seems really happy.” I can tell Trilby is forcing optimism. Maybe it’s time I tried that too.
“Well, he does deserve some happiness after all these years.” My brow dips as a leaf falls from one of the trees. “Maybe I should bring Bambi out here for a while—give everyone a break.”
“That wouldn’t be a bad idea. Maybe we could all come together!”
“That sounds an even better idea,” I grin. “Leave it with me. I’ll go to Washington with Andreas, then when I get back I’ll start making plans.”
“Sounds great. You know…” she hops off the stool and walks around the island toward me. “It is so good to see you. You seem happy and healthy and… I don’t know, I hate that you’re so far away now, but I think Boston has been good for you.”
She threads her arms around my neck and gives me a long, tight squeeze.
“Yeah, I think maybe it has.”
She leans back and pushes my hair from my face. “My best friend,” she whispers wistfully. “You’ve been there through everything and I can’t tell you how muchthat means to me.” I start to shrug by her brow dips, stopping me. “I wasn’t there enough for you after Cristiano and I were married…”
“You did have other things to deal with. Your wedding started beautifully but the ending was…” I shake my head, unable to put it into words.
“Still, I feel like you were alone in that, not really knowing Andreas and having to leave your life in the Hamptons.”
“It’s turned out fine, though,” I smile. Better than fine, actually. Only one thread of guilt pulls me back. Trilby doesn’t know about my scars. No one in my family knows. Dr. Nowak says I don’t need to tell anyone but at some point in the future, it might be cathartic. Right now though, I only want Andreas to know. Maybe when he’s helped me love each and every one of them, maybe then I’ll feel strong enough. It’s that thought that makes me bite my lip and dig in to another prosciutto roll.
Serafina
“Well, that’s a small plane.” I stare open-mouthed at the miniature aircraft we’re about to climb into and try to bite back my nerves. I’ve only been on a plane once and I was too young to get nervous about it. At twenty-one, I’m old enough to have heard the news and read the headlines.
People die in planes.
Especially small planes like this one.
Andreas threads his fingers through mine and tugs me along the tarmac to the short flight of steps. “Trust me,” he says, simply.
Yeah. Famous last words.
A flight attendant greets us at the top. An older woman with a kind face and air of experience. When I enter the aircraft, myeyes nearly pop out of my head. I’ve been privy to my fair share of luxury—especially in the last few months—but this is something else.
The cabin looks more like a five star hotel than a plane—wide and open, with furnishings in various shades of champagne. A golden light bounces off polished wood panels and brushed brass fixtures, and cream leather seats curve elegantly around a low marble table.
My high heels sink into plush, sand-colored carpet as I make my way into the cabin, and the faint scent of sandalwood touches my nostrils. Andreas guides me to a seat then sits down beside me. I cross my legs, tugging the hem of my yellow pencil dress to my knees. Despite my husband’s insistence that he enjoys my figure, I’m still self-conscious.
