Page 37 of Constantine: Britain's Story: Part 2
“With what?”
“You know what.”Honestly, I don’t fucking know.“The Greek Festival is tomorrow night.”
“No.” I can’t get my answer out fast enough. Absolutely not. Not ready to see the whole Scala clan and my work family.
“First off, you fucking owe me, and second, your answer is yes. Constantine and Julie are both going to be there tomorrow and I need you to referee, run interference,something. She hates you the least.” What does that say about a person when she hates her sons more than she hates me?
“Ask Silas.”
“Can’t, her and Silas aren’t speaking after she found out Britain’s his patient.” Christ, this woman’s the worst.
“She is aware that I’m in love with Britain, right?”
“Yeah, but you’re not with her.” He says it nonchalantly, like his words didn’t just impale me.
“Fine, but I need you to do me a favor. You know where Britain lives?”
“Yeah, but I’m not going to be the one to tell you where.”
“Jesus, I’m not going to fucking stalk her.” That’s only a half truth, I might. “Her friend is supposed to come pick up all her stuff tomorrow. Can you just take it to her instead so I don’t have to wait around?”
“Sure,” he says.
“Great,” I stand and head for the stairs. “Are you coming? You gotta pack it all up, too, you know, since I’m down a hand.”
“Damn, no good deed goes unpunished does it?” Max reluctantly follows behind.
“Sure fucking doesn’t, brother.” Hanging out with Julie Scala at the Greek Festival sounds about as fun as getting my toenails removed, but for Max, Niko, and Silas, I’ll do it. Hopefully this gets me one step closer to restoringsomeof the relationships in my life.
THIRTEEN
Britain
Matthias
Can’t wait to see you tonight, babe. I’ll be there in 20.
Reading the text message makes my stomach roll, partly from guilt, partly from anxiety. I didn’t tell Matthias about running into Liam yesterday…or that I’m using tonight’s date as a litmus test for how we’ll move forward. ButI amlooking forward to seeing him. I guess I’m also just nervous.
When the doorbell rang last night, I actually got excited thinking it might be him, but it wasn’t. It was just Maximus with all my clothes from Liam’s. Jess practically squealed like a pirate being reunited with their long-lost treasure while I felt a tad more somber. Seeing my suitcases all packed up, byhim. It had a certain finality to it.
After the shit show that was yesterday, I was mentally prepared for an anxiety-ridden night of crying and lack of sleep, but 9:00 rolled around and I felt okay. Then 10:00, and all Ifelt was tired. I hate to admit, but Liam coming back pacified something that was broken inside me. It’s always been the unknown that’s eaten away at me. And well, now, I know. It’s still complete shit, and it still hurts, but just knowing he’shomecomforts me. Knowing he wants this child and will be around helped soothe my subconscious so that I actually slept seven hours last night.
This morning, I let Jess unpack and go through everything from Liam’s, not wanting to relive anything, and now we’re both in my room getting me ready for the Greek Fest.
“Option one: A linen, square-neck dress by Reformation with Hermes sandals and Jenni Kayne cardigan. OR…Option two: White halter, knit dress from Dissh with Gucci heels.” Jess holds up both dresses. Linen would be cool, but wrinkly and non-stretchy. But…the knit dress will leave nothing to the imagination. My pooch will be out for all to see.
“Which one would you choose?” I ask Jess.
“I think it’s pretty obvious which one I’d choose,” she says. She’s right, one looks more coastal grandma and one screams stylish-ass bitch.
“Fine, the knit halter dress,” I say with reluctance. Jess does a little happy dance on her way to put option one back in the closet while I slip on the dress and check myself in the full length mirror.Pregnant. I look pregnant.
“You look like you’re ready for a summer night in Greece, absolutely gorgeous,” Jess says, then makes a chef’s kiss with her hand and mouth. I’m just going to have to trust her on this one. I can appreciate that this is probably the best I’ve looked in months and maybe the best Iwilllook in months to come.
She’s done my hair in beachy waves and my makeup is subtle and glowy with a thinly winged eyeliner, making me feel a bit like Bridget Bardot. The Gucci sandals are still low enough to becomfortable, otherwise I would have nixed them. But right now, I’m just happy for the boost they’re giving my bum.
“You look great, Brit.” Damian says from the hallway where he’s holding Eden on his hip while she sucks on a frozen teething ring.
