Page 31 of House of Bass

“Arden, you promised to be nice.” MJ scolds, a glare aimed his way.

“Endorsing her pathetic display of a pity party doesn’t help her, it won’t change what happened.” He too now has his legs crossed, his lip curls as he continues to berate me “Her father won’t be the first nor the last man to cheat on their wife. Stop coddling her.”

Hearing him be so glib about my predicament after last week hurt more than I expected, perhaps he is punishing me for how I spoke to him. Then again, I did ask him to treat me like he had over the last five years, like I was nothing, he is just reassuming his role. It is as if the man I am still in love with is a memory in my head that I made up. Usually I’d turn away, but I let him watch my face crumple. So he can see exactly how much his words affect me. He doesn’t look away but watches as the lone tear drips down my face.

“Get off her, man.” Dan finally speaks up, giving me a hug, glaring at his best friend, warning him not to say anymore. “This is different and you know it.”

Richard raises his hands up in surrender, “Now I’m the bad guy because of the truth.”

“It being true doesn’t make it right and I shouldn’t have to accept it just because you say so,” I spit at him. A part of me knows deep down that there is merit to what he is saying but my need to bask in sorrow is more important.

“You may have a point but have you ever considered you aren’t the victim here?” He continues, “There is a girl who has lived twenty years without a present father and had a shit life. Yet she isn't the one who has laid herself to waste, drinking herself to oblivion despite life throwing her for a loop.”

I’m not shocked at him bringing up the one person I’ve been trying to avoid thinking about. There have been many times over the last few days where I’d stand outside her bedroom door, hoping she’d let me in or just to listen. But she moves like a mouse so it was to no avail.

“You speak like you know anything about her,” I say, daring him to reveal that he had met her privately once, annoyed at his patronising tone. “She’s my sister. Don’t act like you know better than I do, you do this all the time.”

“Then act like it. Quite frankly, I thought better of you but maybe I was wrong,” he replies, his face blank. Did you know this whole time he did not blink once? I always found it to be a strange habit of his but now I finally understand. To be heartless you have to be inhuman.

The whole room listens to our tirade in silence, I am so consumed by him that for a moment I don’t realise when the door barges wide open. Standing at its center was Scarlett and Harley, both looking at us with contempt.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“Here is the woman of the hour now.” A smirking Richard says as he sips on his drink, a glass of white sav blanc. He locks his eyes directly at a fuming Harley.

“I said eleven o’clock,” he says.

He invited her? But why?

My gaze bounces back and forth between them both, watching as the two have a silent conversation. My confusion deepens. Harley’s the first to break away and she does so to murmur her thanks to Scarlett standing next to her who simply offered a ‘good luck’ before throwing everyone another look of pure disgust and slamming the door shut.

At least it isn’t just me she hates. I smile a little at that, it is a tad bit comforting.

“You're a dickhead, yeno ?” Harley snarls as she enters further into the room, sidestepping me as she goes over to the couch sitting next to a bored Devon.

Richard only shrugs, “This is the third time you've said this. Running out of insults?” The same smirk still plastered on his face. He tilts his head to the side, almost lazily. “And, you wouldn't be here if you didn't want to be and you know it.” They are speaking in subliminals that I am desperately trying to decode but can’t.

Harley rolls her eyes in response and finally reverts her attention to the rest of the room. Her eyes stop at me, scanning me with extreme scrutiny. She seems to be searching for gentle words but as eloquently as always lands on, “You look like shit.”

I groan loudly, “That can't be all you have to say to me.”

“I have nothing to say to you,” she replies bluntly without blinking. For someone who hardly knew Arden, the resemblance in their demeanour and speech are eerily alike.

“But-” I start, but she raises her hand to cut me off.

“Do you really want to do this here? Right now?” Her voice is firm. “Clearly, you're in no shape to have any serious conversation. So I'll ask you again, do you want to do this here?”

My shoulders slump in resignation, every part of me knows she is right. I am two seconds away from throwing up and at the end of the day she doesn’t know any of these people. She is already so walled up, I can’t imagine her wanting her personal life aired out for all to hear. God, I am so insensitive. This must be why she hates me.

Dan breaks out his dazzling smile to diffuse the tense room, “Would you like a drink?” he asks Harley, “We have some pink gin, normal gin, baileys…” he rattles off some more options while busying himself behind the bar.

She cuts him off in the middle of his tangent, “I don't drink alcohol.”

The whole room goes silent. Even Devon stops texting. Dan questions with a laugh, “What do you mean?”

Her brows knit, “What do you mean by ‘what do I mean’?”

Realising she was being serious, the smile drops from his face, “You really don't drink? Who the hell doesn't drink?” Dan asks, disbelief written across his face.