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“I behaved like I wanted to behave,” she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest, her eyes blazing at him.
“Then I’m fucking sorry for interrupting your striptease in front of everyone,” he scoffs, and her mouth drops.
“There was no striptease involved, you bloody moron.”
“It sure looked like it.”
“Then, get your bloody eyes checked.”
Filip cups his neck, his upper body slumped over, and mutters, “I’m sorry.”
Her mouth parts and closes before spitting out, “For what exactly? For believing I cheated on you with my father and not even confronting me, or for sleeping with my best friend?”
The last part turns guttural, and the power of her words rattles my brother.
“For both.”
“Too bad, I don’t accept your apology because it won’t change a bloody thing.”
“I know.”
The car pulls to a stop when we arrive at Chloe’s place. I peer outside to a nice, old four-story building with red bricks and trees separating the apartment buildings from the street.
She climbs out, turns one more time, piercing my brother with a look and the pained words leave no one untouched, “I only let one man inside, Filip. It was you, and you smashed me.”
She slams the door shut. With shaky legs, he scrambles to his feet and yanks the door open.
Before he closes the door, he says, “I apologize for this mess. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
We have no words. We just nod.
Sarah asks, “Is this a good idea?”
“You can’t stop my brother.”
“He’s as stubborn as Bria if he wants to be,” Sophia points out.
“They are both drunk, I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Sarah adds.
“Let them cry and scream. It’s been coming for a while now.”
“Next time, can we try to have fun?”
The tension breaks a bit with our forced laughter. The van continues and at the next stop, Sophia and Alex depart, followed by Sarah, and then Damien and I are alone.
“Is it just me, or is drama the bat-shit-crazy evil godmother in our life?”
“This is our life, baby.”
“Why can’t we just live and have a normal life?”
“Nothing about our life is normal. It never was, and will never be, either.”
“Yes, hard to forget.”
The drive lasts not more than ten minutes as London's streets illuminate with artificial lights contouring the tall buildings and mostly empty streets while silence descends over the city.
I bend to massage my aching feet when the car stops. Damien takes off my shoes, and I hop on his back.
