What family does

The slap lands harder than usual. I grimace slightly, tasting copper. “Look at me.” I raise my head to stare into her eyes. I've always found them captivating. How ironic. "What did I say about going to the company?" she asks quietly. “You can't continue keeping me away from it. I love it just as much as he did,” I whisper. She scoffs. “Why are you intent on inserting yourself where you're not wanted? You loved him? You're the reason he's dead! What chance does the company have with you there?” I grip the mop tighter but remain silent. "You're not to set foot outside this house unless I say so.” She glances around the room. “The next time I come down, I expect this house to already be done. Not in progress. Done.” She straightens her robe. “Your father spoiled you terribly. I'm simply correcting it.” "Yes, stepmot—I mean, yes Vivienne." “Good. Remember Calla, we've done so much for you, keeping you in the family, giving you a roof over your head, and food to eat. This is the least you could do.” “I'm sorry.” Her eyes soften and she reaches out to stroke my hair. "I know you are—you just need more time to adjust. Your father is dead Calla and it's all your fault. Never forget that. All that you currently enjoy is by my mercy. Do you understand?” “Yes, Vivienne.” “Good.” With that she walks away, her heels clicking after her on the tiles. My cheek pulses. I touch it once then get back to work. Just get through today. ~ Celeste comes down by eight, looking like a mini heart attack just waiting to happen. She has her hair up, makeup on and a dress so skimpy you'd have to squint to be sure it was there. I should say something, she's my little sister, but I don't. I've learned I don't get a say. “What are you staring at?” “I—I'm sorry. Good Morning Celes—” “Is breakfast ready? I'm starving.” “Well, no—” “Why the hell not? I have an outing by 8:30 so chop chop,” she says, waving dismissively. I grip the mop. “It's just that I—” A frown forms on her perfect face. “You what? It's not like you have anything better to do. Do you?” I release it. “Of course not.” She walks past me, “accidentally” knocking over the bucket of soapy water. “Oops. Oh no… Did I do that?” she says. My shoulders droop. “It's fine. I got it.” “You're the best!” Yeah. I'm the best. I watch as water soaks the clean carpet. Something hot moves through my chest, wanting to stand up, scream and throw the bucket after her. I let it pass. It's fine. I'll just start over. I finish my chores past noon and eat bread and jam bent over the trash can. It's Saturday so I can't sit at the dining table. My phone buzzes on the counter and my heartbeat quickens instinctively. Dorian 🤍 A smile stretches across my face. I pick up so fast I nearly knock over my glass of water. “Dorian—” “Hey babe.” I feel my cheeks go hot. Five years, and he still has this effect on me. “Hey,” I say, leaning against the counter. “Are you alone?” “Yeah, Vivienne's taking her nap.” “Great… How are you?” “I'm great!” “Cal—” “Better, now that you called. I wish you were here. I miss you.” “Babe, I miss you more. You literally have no idea, but we'll see each other soon. My dad's business trip ends tonight so we'll probably be on the first flight back. So cheer up okay?” “Okay.” We talk for forty minutes about everything and nothing—a song I heard, the movie he watched with his dad, and the new restaurant downtown he's planning to take me to. It's easy the way breathing is easy. It's always been this way—safe, sure, like the whole world hasn't gone haywire, like my dad's not dead, like I'm not a stranger in my own home with someone else's heart beating in my chest. This, this is my happy place. He is my happy place. The rest of the day goes by uneventfully. By nine I'm permitted to go to bed. I'm settling in with a book when I hear a knock on my window. Three taps, pause, one. Our code since we were sixteen. I throw off the covers and hurriedly push the window open. There he is. Halfway up the oak tree, smiling like he's thirsty and I'm water. Dorian Crestwood in moonlight is the stuff dreams are made of, with a sharp jaw and dark brown hair that falls across his face in waves. And amber eyes—the same ones currently boring into mine. My Dorian. Mine. He pulls himself onto the ledge and into my room. We stare for a beat before he wraps me in his arms, and I melt against him. “You're here,” I say giddily. “I'm here.” He says. He looks down at me, and his expression shifts. “Dorian?” He reaches for my face and I flinch. His eyes cloud over. “Vivienne?” “I'm fine—” I start to say, but something about the way he's looking at me stops me. Sighing, I pull him to sit beside me on the bed. “It doesn't matter, really.” “Dorian—” “Calla—” “Dorian dont—” “I'll go talk to her. For God's sake, she can't keep doing this.” “I know,” I say quietly, “but she means well, besides I'm used to it.” He tries to get up and I grab his arm. “You'll only make things worse. You know that.” He looks at me for a long moment, then exhales, resting his hand on my uninjured cheek. “I hate leaving you.” “Then don't. Better yet try smuggling me out.” “Calla—” “Just—help me leave D.” I pause. I didn't mean to say it, but it's out now. I chuckle dryly. “I'm tired D, of all of it. I want to be to what I want: work, eat, sleep. Maybe even sit at the dining table when we have company. I just—want a life that's actually mine. I owe him that much.” I let out a shuddering breath, my hand on my heart. He's quiet at first, then he pulls me closer, tucking my head under his chin. “I'm working on it. I swear to you, I'll help you leave this place. I'll save enough, sort things out with my dad, and then…” He pulls back to look at me. “Then I'm going to marry you, Calla Lily. I'm going to make all your dreams come true. I'll give you a life that's truly yours. I swear it.” “I love you, Calla. It's you I love. You know that right?” I did know that. I'm sure of it. “I love you too Dorian.” I snuggle deeper into him and close my eyes. “Calla?” “Yeah?” “You know tomorrow is the matching ceremony right?” I bolt upright. “No—No one told me.” He takes my hands. “Well, it is. If we're lucky, we'll get matched tomorrow and no one will question whether we make sense.” “Right. If we're lucky.” He grins. “Relax babe, we're made for each other. The council will see that and do the right thing. Plus I could talk to my dad and—” “No. Please don't. Things just started getting better between you too so just…don't jinx it.” “Calla—” “Please?” “Ok.” I sigh, getting back to my snuggling position. Dorian stares at me, a familiar glint in his eyes. “You're staring,” I say, my cheeks heating up. “How could I not?” I roll my eyes at him. “Do you know what kept me going for the two weeks I was away from you?” He asks, his gaze momentarily falling to my lips. My heartbeat quickens in anticipation. “What?” I whisper. He grins, leaning in. “This.” Just then a loud knock sounds at my door. “Calla!!” Dorian and I glance at each other. We jump out of bed. I move toward the door while he rushes to the window. He pauses, turns back around and pulls me into a brief yet heady kiss before going out the window. I press a hand to my heart, take a breath, and throw the door open. Vivienne walks in, her gaze questioning as it lands on my bed. I don't say anything. “Calla. The matching ceremony is tomorrow. You're to get up early, do your chores and help Celeste prepare. Your outfit has already been arranged.” “Yes Vivienne,” I say, keeping my head down. She walks closer to me, tilting my head up with her perfectly manicured finger. “Tomorrow is your chance to make up for all the wrongs you've done. There must be a reason YOU'RE the one who's still alive. This is your chance to prove it. Celeste gets matched tomorrow, so nothing goes wrong, do you understand?” “Yes Vivienne.” Celeste isn't the only one getting matched tomorrow. With any luck, I'll finally get to leave this house.