An invitation
2055 Words
MIRABELLA
My pulse speeds up, a rapid flutter against my ribs that makes it hard to breathe evenly. “Oh.”
“I’ve tried to put her off for as long as I could,” Cassian continues, his voice measured but tinged with something that might be weariness. “At least until I was sure you’d settled in. But she’s persistent, and she thinks it’s time she meets you.”
I don’t know what to say to that. The words tangle in my throat, refusing to form anything coherent. I don’t even know this woman—don’t know what to expect from her, what kind of person she is, whether she’ll look at me with kindness or resentment. My father’s widow. The phrase feels foreign in my mind, like trying on clothes that don’t quite fit.
Cassian seems to read my mind, or maybe the confusion is just that obvious on my face, because he says, “She’s not the worst person, but her marriage with your father wasn’t the best.” There’s something careful in how he phrases it, like he’s editing his words even as they leave his mouth.
“You don’t like her, do you?” The question leaves my lips before I can stop it, blunt and graceless.
A hint of surprise flickers across his face before settling into something that might be amusement.
“You’re pretty perceptive,” he says, reaching for the glass decanter on the table and pouring himself a drink.
Amber liquid catches the sunlight, turning golden. Then he adds, almost as an afterthought, “She also wants you to come alone. It’s a school week, so I’ve arranged for Kieran to take you to see her this weekend.”
I sigh, the sound escaping before I can hold it back. Because it seems it’s already decided, the whole thing arranged and planned without my input. I have no say in this, just like I’ve had no say in anything else that’s happened to me lately. But I’m curious about something, a question that’s been forming since he first mentioned her name.
“What exactly does she want from me?”
Cassian takes a long gulp of his drink before answering, and I watch his throat work as he swallows. When he finally speaks, his words are careful, calculated. “She claims she has more legal right over you than I do. She’s your late father’s wife, while I’m just the business partner and friend.”
A chill skates down my spine, cold and sharp as a blade. “Do you mean your guardianship isn’t legitimate?”
“It’s temporary until Adrian’s will has been probated,” he admits, and there’s something almost apologetic in his tone. “Lucy could contest it if she wanted to.”
The entire admission is like a bucket of ice cold water has just been poured over my head, shocking and clarifying all at once. All this while, I thought I’d gotten a new home despite how complicated it’s been—stability, a place to land even if it’s full of people who don’t want me here. But it seems this could all go away, dissolved by a woman I’ve never even met who has the legal right to decide my fate.
“If I don’t go, she’ll start making trouble, won’t she?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.
“Pretty much.”
I close my eyes briefly, gathering whatever strength I have left. “Fine. I’ll see her.”
***
For the rest of the week, I’m worried about having to see Lucy, the anxiety sitting heavy in my stomach like a stone I can’t digest.
From what Cassian said, she can’t be the nicest person—or at least, their relationship isn’t good enough for him to speak well of her. But what choice do I really have here? Go and face whatever she wants from me, or wait for her to make my life even more complicated than it already is.
The only relief comes from working at the café, where the familiar rhythm of making drinks and taking orders gives my anxious mind something else to focus on. At least when the café is busy, I manage to forget just how screwed up my life is, losing myself in the steam from the espresso machine and the comfortable chatter of customers who don’t know anything about me beyond my name tag.
It’s harder to escape my reality at school, especially since Sophie keeps asking me what’s wrong with that concerned crease between her eyebrows that makes me feel guilty for worrying her. As much as I adore her, I don’t think she’d understand the complexity of my situation. And I guess I’m not quite ready for her to see just how broken I really am, how precarious my place here is.
“You banging someone?”
Kaius’ gruff demand jolts me from my thoughts like a physical shock.
I’m in the passenger seat of his Range Rover, trying to stop yawning for what feels like the hundredth time this morning. “What? Why would you ask me that?”
“You’ve got dark circles under your eyes. You’ve been walking around the house like a zombie since Tuesday, and it looks like you haven’t slept in days.” His jaw is tight, a muscle jumping there. “So. Are you banging someone? Sneaking out to see him?”
“Yeah, I have a boyfriend,” I say, and every word is dripping with sarcasm that should be impossible to miss, but that seems lost on him.
His grip on the wheel tightens until his knuckles go white, and he grits out the words like they’re being dragged from him by force. “Don’t. Play. With. Me. Sister.”
“Are you?” he asks again, and there’s something almost desperate in how he needs to know.
My patience, already worn thin by exhaustion and anxiety, finally snaps.
“No.”
“No,” he echoes, like he’s testing the word.
“Yes, Kaius. No. I’m not dating anyone, okay? And even if I was, it’s none of your business.” The words come out sharper than I intended, but I don’t take them back.
“Everything you do is my business,” he counters with that infuriating certainty he wears like armor. “Every move you make affects me and my family.”
“Wow. It must be nice to live in a world where everything revolves around you.” I can’t keep the bitterness from my voice.
“What’s going on with you then?” he demands, ignoring my jab completely. “You haven’t been yourself.”
“I haven’t been myself?” The laugh that escapes me is sharp and humorless. “Like you know me well enough to make that kind of statement.” I scowl at him, studying his perfect profile in the early morning light. “Tell you what, I’ll fill you in on all my secrets—after you tell me where you sneak off to every night and why you come home with cuts and bruises.”
His eyes flash with something dangerous, something that makes my stomach flip despite myself.
“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” I cross my arms and try not to yawn again, turning to stare out the window at the passing scenery.
Kaius fixes his irritated gaze on the windshield, his big hands gripping the wheel so tight I worry he might break it. He’s been driving me to work every morning at five-thirty for the past week, then continuing on to school for his six a.m. football practice. Kaden is on the team too, but he drives to practice on his own, which I think is because Kaius wants this alone time with me—so he can cross-examine me, the way he’s done every morning since this annoying carpool began.
“You’re not going away, are you?” There’s a note of defeat in his voice now, along with the usual dose of anger that seems to color everything he says to me.
“Nope. I’m not going away.”
The rest of the drive passes in tense silence, and I’m almost relieved when he drops me off at the café, even though it means facing another long shift on barely any sleep.
***
I barely make it to school before the first bell rings, rushing through the hallways with my hair still slightly damp from the quick shower I managed to squeeze in.
I only have time for a quick stop in the bathroom to change into my Silver Crest Hall uniform, trading my café clothes for the pristine skirt and blazer that mark me as belonging here, even though I still feel like an imposter. Then I sit through my morning classes and fight to stay awake, my eyelids growing heavier with each passing minute despite my best efforts.
At lunch, I chug so much coffee that even hours later I still feel the buzz thrumming through my veins, making my hands shake slightly. But at least I’m alert now, wired and jittery instead of falling asleep at my desk.
I take my seat next to Sophie in chemistry class and greet her with an enthusiastic hello that’s probably a bit too energetic, given the circumstances.
She turns to me with a concerned expression, her eyes scanning my face with the kind of attention to detail that makes her a good friend and sometimes an uncomfortable mirror. “You’ve been looking kind of loopy lately, Mirabella. You work too much. I’m worried about you.”
“I’ve just been occupied with a lot of things,” I tell her, waving away her concern with what I hope is a reassuring smile. “But I’m fine. Really.”
She doesn’t look entirely convinced, but she lets it drop with a small nod.
Then her expression shifts, brightening with an idea. “I have something that’ll take your mind off your problems right now.”
“What?” I ask, curious despite my exhaustion.
“There’s a party tonight,” she says, and I can hear the mixture of excitement and reluctance in her voice. “Hosted by Zack on his yacht. He’s one of the elites in school, friends with the twins.” She makes a face that suggests what she thinks about that connection.
“Normally I wouldn’t attend something like this, but my sister is always actively involved in these activities and she forces me to come along. I thought maybe you’d want to come with me?”
Just the idea of lounging on Zack’s yacht with the twins and their crowd makes my stomach turn. “As much as I appreciate the offer, I don’t think my presence there would be appreciated.”
“That’s exactly why you should come,” Sophie insists, leaning closer with determination written all over her face. “I’d probably end up bored out of my mind if I go alone, and if you come, at least I’d have someone to talk to. Someone real, you know?”
“Sophie—”
“Oh, come on, Mirabella,” she pleads, putting her hands into a prayer position that’s both earnest and theatrical. “I’m not saying throw caution to the wind, but you’re not going to let them win either, right? You’re not going to let them make you hide.”
Crap. She has a point, and we both know it. I can practically feel my resolve crumbling under the weight of her logic and those pleading eyes.
Sighing and nodding my head slightly sends Sophie into a squeal of delight, which causes our chemistry teacher to shoot us a warning look from the front of the classroom. She immediately clamps her mouth shut but grabs my hand under the desk, giving it a squeeze that’s full of excitement and gratitude. “You won’t regret this,” she promises me in an enthusiastic whisper.
But as I turn my attention back to the periodic table on the board, trying to focus on electron configurations and chemical bonds, I’m already certain that I will.
- Writer
