Page 102 of Hexed
Being around Uncle T, being his sidekick—the one he turns to when he needs things done—has always grounded me. Given me purpose. I’m not sure what to do if that goes away.
It’s all I’ve ever known, really.
Having Harald here, knowing Aria set this up even though it must have taken an elaborate amount of planning…it makes me feel like I’ve lost control.
But there is one thing I still have control over, and that’s staying here withhim.
I don’t have to do it.
So I don’t.
Without another word, I spin around, slide open the glass door, and leave.
TWENTY-FIVE
ENZO
I stayfor the rest of the dinner, even though I’m beyond ready to leave.
I’m disgusted with any of them calling themselves Venesa’s “family” when they don’t show up for her in any way that matters, and I’m even more disgusted with the fact I have to sit here and pretend I still wantanythingto do with the woman next to me, but I don’t know how to get out of this wedding unless I kill my father, and I don’t know if I’m ready to accept that or anything that comes with it.
I promised Ma to never go against him, and now…
Today has made my indecision waver because now I don’t know if I canmakemyself marry her.
Dinner is stilted. Or maybe it’s just in my imagination. Bastien and I seem to be the only two people at the table who give a fuck that Venesa, the person whose birthday we’re supposed to celebrate, isn’t here.
Aria, Trent, and Harald—the motherfucker—are jovial. Laughing and drinking wine like this is the best night of their lives, as if they’ve been friends for years.
I thought they didn’t even know each other and that Venesa’s mom had been cut off for choosing him. Yet here they are, one big happy family.
And again, Venesa is missing.
Anger is so potent in my bloodstream, it makes my skin itch. It’s literally as though none of them even notice she’s gone.
“I’m sorry.” Bastien interrupts the conversation, throwing his fork on the plate and sitting back. “Are we all going to just sit around here and pretend like it’s okay that this motherfucker is at the table?”
My acceptance of Bastien blossoms into respect.
“Not me,” I reply, cutting a look to Harald.
He shrinks under my gaze, clearing his throat and draining his wineglass.
There are so many things I want to say to him, but if Ido, I’ll have to answer to Trent and Aria as to how I know them. And I’m not an ignorant man. I know when to play my cards and when to keep them close.
“Bas, a little decorum,” Trent chastises.
Bastien laughs and scoots back from the table before standing up. “Not this time, Trent. I do a lot of things for you, and I hold my tongue on a lot of others. But this is fucked, even for you.”
Trent’s lips thin.
“That girl loves you more than she loves herself, and all she’s ever wanted is for you to treat her like family,” Bastien continues.
I nod along with him.
“And this is what you do?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” Trent says.
