Page 46 of Everything Has Changed
I pause, gathering up everything he just said. “Wait, so let me make sure I am understanding you right. You want me to take full credit for everything Gwen is doing for this event?”
My father snickers, his hand jutting in my direction as he shares a smarmy grin with the woman beside me. “Ah, so he can listen to me. Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. And I’m also saying you need to stay the hell away from her. How do you think it’ll look to the townspeople when you are traipsing all over town having intimate conversations with a woman that isn’t your fiance?”
I rear back as if I’ve been slapped right in the face. My throat feels like it is actively closing up as my vision starts to blur around the edges.
“Don’t act so shocked, Logan,” Camila reaches over, taking my hand in hers. I pull back with a glare. “You know we are meant to be.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, rubbing at them as if I can erase what’s happening in front of me. “I’m sorry. Am I living in an alternate universe where you didn’t fuck multiple people behind my back? Including my college roommate.”
Camila rolls her eyes. “Stop being so dramatic, Logan. I apologized.”
“But you still did it.”
“Logan, get back on track here,” my father snaps, and I send my glare in his direction. Because as much as my anger is directed toward Camila, it’s even more so directed at him. He’s the one holding these puppet strings.
“I don’t agree to this. I’ll play your perfect child and follow in your footsteps. But that,” I point to my right, “is where I draw the line.”
My father tsks. “I’ve taught you time and time again that this life is all about optics. And those optics extend outside of these town lines. Our reach is far beyond Willow Grove, and we have to nourish those relationships as well.”
Camila waves her phone in the air. “Should I call Daddy to remind you?” Her innocent look is anything but that right now. It’s a ploy. It always has been.
“How is your dad, by the way? Still buying up the farmland of hardworking families for nothing and sleeping like a baby every night?”
“When you’ve got money to last generations, good sleep is easily accessible.”
I stare back at my father. “Absolutely not. Find another.”
“You took away my other option.”
I bite my cheek so hard the taste of copper floods over my tongue. My bones vibrate with pure rage that I know will only end in someone getting hurt if I look back on my past with my father. Getting to my feet, I step towards the door to escape the snakes slithering around me. I stop with my hand on the door handle when he calls out my name one more time, though I don’t bother to turn around.
“You can run all you want, son. But this is your reality. I would hate to pull some permits. Maybe even get the rent down on Main Street raised.”
“I wonder when was the last time the health inspector visited our local coffee shop?”
“Now that is quite a thought, Camila. Maybe I should give them a call. It did look awfully messy in that kitchen when we stopped by this weekend.” My father chuckles darkly. “Carry on, Logan. Just don’t forget who you are messing with.”
I twist the handle with such force that I’m shocked it’s still intact when I pull the door open. Though the way the hinges shudder as I slam it behind me tells me they probably felt my anger reverberate through the room.
Good. I hope it stings on their skin the way it stings in my soul every day of my life.
17
Gwendolyn
My phone rings with an incoming video chat right on time. I finish pouring my glass of red as I hit the accept button. The screen fills with my sister’s tired, yet still stunning, face. And I’m instantly filled with an ease that can only come from special time with Kennedy.
She raises her own glass of wine in greeting, and I mime clinking it in cheers before we both take a sip. An unspoken tradition when we both need some unfiltered sister time. We usually try to set aside at least one night a week for these chats, but it’s been a hot minute since we could find a free evening for both of us.
“Messy bun and your glasses instead of contacts,” I acknowledge as I take my perch next to my balcony doors. I don’t have them open tonight, which is a shame with how cool the evenings have turned. Usually they’re open as I take any chance I can get before the weather turns too cold. But the conversation between us is not for public ears.
“Are you still struggling with this book, Kenny?”
She lightly bangs her head against the wall she’s leaning against. No doubt in the same position I am, but instead of the Main Street and mountains view, she’s looking out at skyscrapers.
“I feel like I’ve never written a love story in my life.” Her eyes close briefly before blinking back open with a faraway look. “What if I used it all up already?”
“Used up what?”
