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My eyes searched his. I found nothing but genuine sincerity. I released a ragged breath, the panic subsiding. He nodded and turned around and continued to his car.
I couldn't find it in me to smile. To find relief. Not when he walked away carrying the weight of my secret on his shoulders.
Chapter Eight
I drove for over two hours listening to depressing songs as I made my way across the state of Florida. I'd called Avery numerous times to let her know I would be home early, but she never answered. She was my absolute best friend in the entire world and I wanted to spill every little detail. But after Hayden's reaction, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't petrified to tell her.
Exiting I-95, I headed east and drove for a few minutes until I reached one of two long and narrow bridges that sat parallel to each other. Growing up, I'd been terrible with directions. My dad always said, "The beach is east, Ana," which made it easy for me to learn navigation.
I crossed on to the island and rolled down my window to breathe in the salty air. Lavish cars lined the streets. Porches, Mercedes, BMWs, and Ferraris were the choice of cars driven here along with Lamborghinis. People of all ages strutted the sidewalks, their arms heavy with posh named bags. Every single person dressed to the nines, scarves donned their necks to protect them from the seventy-degree chilly weather. Noses held high in the air, an aura of money surrounded the uppity, entitled people of Palm Beach Island.
My smile faded. That was the one thing about being on the West Coast of Florida I really enjoyed. I never got the sense of privilege over there as I did here.
Thick garland swooped from store to store, red and gold fat bulbs arranged on wreaths topped with giant red bows. Trees expertly wrapped with white lights—never the gaudy colored ones—and leafy palms garbed with green lights. Christmas decorations were everywhere and the holiday spirit was all around. I had to give it to the town, it was a winter wonderland and looked stunning at night.
Veering on to North Ocean Blvd, Palm Beach Island was small, and it was only a matter of minutes as I drew closer to Avery's house, a large Mediterranean villa home like mine. Her car was vacant from the pebbled driveway where she always parked. I knew school was out for the winter break, but seeing as it was the weekend, I had no idea where she could be since she still hadn't answered her cell phone.
I continued past her house and flipped on my blinker and turned left, pulling into the long winding driveway of my home. The lush lawn, a manicured vibrant green, with two inclined palm trees lined the sides of the purposely weathered front door. I smiled as I parked my Escalade and glanced around, appreciating my home.
Walking toward the side door I'd used since childhood, I caught a glimpse of a BMW. It wasn't abnormal to see this kind of luxury car in my parents' driveway, but what caused me to stop were the jet black twenty-two inch rims that looked awfully familiar.
I strained my neck to see if there were necklaces hanging
from the rearview mirror. The windows were pitch black, I couldn't see in unless I peered through the windshield. If there were—
There were, which left me even more stumped. Blue and orange beaded necklaces hung from the rearview mirror, the colors of the college she dreamed of attending.
I wracked my brain trying to figure out why Avery was here when she refused all my calls in the first place. She couldn't have known I was coming home.
The scent of the black currant and vanilla fusion candles Mom was obsessed with crashed into me as I pulled open the door. My eyes popped from the aromatherapy that promised relaxation. Designed in mind to soothe, all it did was give me an instant headache. I'd forgotten how strong this aroma was. This time she'd gone a little overboard.
"Dad? Mom? I'm home!"
Noise from every corner of the house caught my attention, but it was the familiar click-clacking of Louboutin heels that turned my head in the other direction.
Mom walked under the arched foyer looking as radiant as ever. She had her face painted on and not a hair out of place. Dressed to impress. Our eyes met, and the corner of my lips hesitated to pull up.
"Ana!" she exclaimed with her arms open. With Mom wearing heels, it put her just under six feet, so she had to bend down to hug me. Despite the many differences between us—and not just in looks, but also our views on life—she was still my mom and I loved seeing her.
"It's so good to see you, honey!" Her Chanel perfume engulfed me and I wrinkled my nose, too many smells going on. She placed her hands on my upper arms and my stomach tightened. I prepared myself for what would come next, yet I couldn't stop the hammering of my heart.
Mom's shrewd eyes moved down the length of my body. I held my breath. "Aside from your arms and shoulders starting to resemble your brother’s, you look absolutely amazing. So skinny!" A backhanded compliment. I'd take it. "But those clothes…" She clicked her tongue in disapproval. "Oh, Adrianna. You know how much I hate that style, but you look like you're positively glowing."
I bounced on the balls of my feet. "Thanks, Mom. I missed you."
Her sparkling blue eyes softened. "I missed you too. It's so good to have you home."
"Is that my daughter I hear?"
I turned around at the sound of Dad’s baritone voice rebounding down the foyer. He strolled toward us at a leisurely rate. A crystal tumbler filled with an amber color liquid clutched in one hand, and a delighted smile across his seasoned face.
"Dad!"
Dad placed his glass down on the counter and Mom hissed behind me. The table was Purple Heart and considered one of the most expensive woods in the world. Found in the tropical rainforests of South Africa, when cut, it swiftly went from dark brown to a deep, rich purple. It was my mom's favorite piece of furniture in the house and she made sure to keep it in the welcoming room for all to see. She adorned it with a monstrous vase of pure white exotic flowers.
"Sweetheart."
I met my dad halfway and threw my arms around his shoulders, jumping into his hug. He lifted me up and my knees bent behind me. He squeezed me tight and I feigned lack of air.
