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I shuddered, my own madness coming out to play. “No. No. No. I’m not the liar. You know why I don’t miss this? Because it’s a lie.”
It was his turn to shudder.
“Because it’s a lie,” I repeated.
He flinched.
“It was always a lie.”
“Don’t say that.”
“It was always a lie,” I repeated. “Want to know how I know?”
“Stop.”
“I won’t stop. I’m not finished. Want to know how I know?”
“Enough. Stop it. You’ll say any horrible thing when you’re in a temper.”
“I will, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t the truth. What we had was always a lie. I know because if it was real it wouldn’t have ended. It felt like forever, and forever was a lie.”
I’d won the round, I noted numbly as his shaking body withdrew back to his side of the car.
He gripped the steering wheel, staring straight ahead, shoulders hunched.
After a few drawn out minutes of silence he started driving again.
“You’re terrible at truces,” I said. It was an effort to keep my voice from trembling.
He nodded jerkily. “Ditto, tiger. Peace was never your strength. You were born for battle.”
“Look who’s talking?”
His mouth twisted. “A match made in hell.”
Wasn’t that the truth.
The problem with us was that he and I had become deeply attached in our formative years. Young me had become essential to young him and vice versa.
We were too precisely built together, each too profoundly shaped by the other. Every part of us had been assembled as one piece. Of course we did not function well after the construct had been ripped violently apart.
And of course I would despise the one who had done the ripping.
The car was silent as a tomb until we were nearly at the house, both of us trying to regain some composure, trying to reconcile ourselves to the past and come back to the present.
“Is my dress really too tight?” I asked him as he pulled down the long winding road that led to the house.
Grandma always got her digs in, and they always found a place to fester. I’d known the dress was flattering, provocative even. But was it trashy?
Dante cursed. “God, she always could get to you with her venom. No, it’s not too tight. You look amazing. Perfect. Gram would be proud.”
“Thank you,” I said simply.
“Damn,” I cursed as I took in the transformation of Gram’s large driveway. Parking attendants had apparently been hired to manage the large influx of vehicles for the reception. They were trying their best to valet each one, using the front lawn to fit in as many cars as possible. “Gram would have hated this. She loved to keep her lawn pristine.”
Dante cursed. “What in the actual fuck? Goddamn my mother. This has her stamp all over it. Keeping up appearances when the fact is these people can walk a few fucking feet instead of ruining Gram’s lawn.”
He was right. There was a paved road a mile long leading up to the house with plenty of shoulder room, i.e. ample parking.
