It all started with a game

Chapter 14

Estrella didn't either. She wouldn't leave my bedside the entire time. As long as I was in bed, she was as well. If I didn't eat, neither would she. If I didn't shower, she wouldn't either. If I didn't drink water, she refused to as well. She laid with me the whole time.

My mother went on, pretending to be the sad, lonely, widow. "I will never recover or find someone else like him. He was my true love, my one and only."

It took everything in me to remain sitting and not call her out for all her bs. If he had really been her one only, maybe he would still be alive right now.

I drew in long steady breaths, letting my eyes drift close as I tried to settle the pounding in my head. In. Out. In. Out.

Her fingers brushed across my skin as she tried to find my hand without actually having to look over at me. She weaved our fingers together.

The anger simmered out of me almost instantly, my face heating up slightly to the point that I was begging no one else would notice. My mother's words went in one ear and out the other as I slowly dropped my gaze to my lap, just to make sure I wasn't imagining things, where, lo and behold, Beatrice was holding my hand. She was holding my hand. Not in a way to make a move on me, like most girls tried to, but just to hold my hand, to keep me calm and keep me from exploding. She was holding my hand.

I didn't move, didn't even breathe, just staring down at the two of our hands joined together. And she was just sitting there, like nothing was going on, with her elbow resting on the table, her chin sitting in the palm of her hand as she leaned forward without a care in the world that people had begun to stare at her for having such 'improper manners'. She didn't notice, or she simply didn't care. And I was fairly certain that if I set the two of our hands on the top of the table cloth for the world to see, she would have let me.

I let my thumb brush across the top of her skin for a brief second, just so I could know what it would be like. I sucked in a deep breath. I liked this just a little bit too much.

I stripped my hand from hers like her skin was fire searing my flesh. She stopped breathing entirely, her face falling into complete nothingness, her eyes wide and distant before her entire face was turning bright red and she was dragging her hand back to her own lap like it was a walk of shame. She turned her head away from me, focusing her attention on my mother, who was going on and on about who knows what.

I didn't need her to hold my hand like I was some little kid. I've been taking care of myself since I was eight, I didn't need anybody then and I don't need anybody now.

The servers brought out the food once mother's endless speech was over. The sooner this dinner finished, the better.

Beatrice still wouldn't look at me, now focused on Alexia, talking about the most random things as the rest of the table engaged in talk about upcoming opportunities for their companies, my mother being the lead of the conversations.

I refused to look at any of the numerous pictures of my father that had been laid out. They were terrible pictures, pictures that he hated. They were all work photos, him in a suit lacking a smile. That wasn't my father. The best pictures of my dad were from when he was surfing, or taking me and Alexia out. We had plenty of those, but she didn't bother to set out a single one, saying his messy hair was ugly and he looked unprofessional in swim trunks. He looked like my dad, not the grand worthy entrepreneur which she married him for.

I took a bite of the broccoli. I always ate my favorite parts of the dinner first, which is why I was always stuck shoveling carrots into my mouth by the end of the meal and trying not to taste them as I practically swallowed them whole.