Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
“You’re…you’re disowned!” my mother stutter-snaps, pointing a very long index finger in my face. She has an array of jewelry that she cycles between. Today, it’s her mother’s emerald and gold ring that wags in my face.
I know she doesn’t mean it. I’ll be un-disowned in a week, but Amalphia doesn’t know that. She covers her gasp with a hand over her mouth, but her eyes are large and shiny above her fingertips.
And not in a good way.
My mother tears out of the room, her pumps clicking so violently that they’re a good match for her brows.
I trail after her and stop her at the door.
“Mom. Wait.”
She pauses but doesn’t turn. Her hand clutches the doorknob until her knuckles are white. She’s too proud to be the one to speak first. She won’t turn around, but I don’t know if that’s because she’s fighting with herself and doesn’t want me to see it or because she’s far too angry and disappointed in me at this very moment.
“I don’t want you to leave angry,” I tell her.
“You should have thought about that before giving your notice like a spoiled brat.”
I set my coffee down on the hall table, taking that extra second to figure out how to try and find the words for this. It’s important, and I can’t let her leave without saying them.
“I know you’ve only ever tried to protect me and the rest of the family. You’ve had your own ways and your own reasons for them. I guess I have as well.”
She still doesn’t turn, and even though every word costs me, I keep going, scraping them up from the depths of my soul. I know they’ll likely be completely ignored or thrown back in my face, but that’s not on me.
“Do you think that when everything settles down—tempers and whatnot—we should maybe all go to therapy and talk things out? I’m pretty sure we’re past the point of being able to do it on our own now. We need a professional if we’re going to fix this.”
That dreaded word, the suggestion of talking it out with a therapist, has my mother spinning.
Record number three. I think it goes without saying that it’s for the world’s highest, screamiest, most threatening brows.
“What’s to be fixed? You’ve decided to throw your family and your heritage away for the desire to make toys. And for a hussy in the most ridiculous, cheap, secondhand clothing that doesn’t even match. It’s outrageous. She’s outrageous. All she wants is your—”
“Heart,” Amalphia finishes for my mother.
She walks up behind me and rests her hand on the small of my back. I never thought the word swoon could apply to me, but that’s what I do. Every single muscle in my body goes straight into man-swoon mode. Mwoon mode?
“All I want is for his heart to be happy.” Her hand rubs a small circle along my tailbone, and I have to resist the urge to start lowkey purring. “I think we both want that. In time, hopefully, we can work on it together.”
“In time?” my mother snaps like a feral hyena. “You’ve been here for all of a month and a half. You’re as laughable as those pants.”
“I know. But I’d rather laugh than hurt. I’d rather laugh with War than be alone just because I couldn’t find the courage to risk being with him. This has been the best and hardest month and a half of my life.”
“It’s you. All these bad ideas. It’s all you, whispering them in his ears and encouraging him to burn it all to the ground.”
“Not exactly…” Amalphia pauses and then just goes for it. “But I did once burn an entire pan of meatballs so badly that they couldn’t be identified. I once waxed the shower with furniture polish because I thought it was lemon-scented cleaner. I once didn’t protect my computer passwords, and some thugs tried to break my legs. I once nearly gave War a heart attack by holding my breath too long in the pool. And I once made a giant box fort that wasn’t exactly sturdy. I’ve made so many other mistakes, and I’ve gotten plenty of things wrong. But I’ve tried to learn from all of them. A month and a half in, and I know I’ll never stop growing, challenging myself, and loving life. I know this will never be a mistake.”
My mother doesn’t know what to say. We don’t talk about feelings in our family. The barrage and the obvious light flowing out of Amalphia like the very sun is implanted in her chest is far too threatening. She gives us both one last scathing look and flees, slamming the door shut behind her.
There’s a beat of silence as even the house seems to shudder.
Amalphia spins around and puts her hands on my shoulders. My heart pretty much beats right out of my chest at the look on her face. It threatens to fully explode right here and now. There’s something in her huge, shining eyes that I’ve never seen before.