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“I have other redeeming qualities.”
“I doubt it.” I left him to scroll his phone and took the hallway to the kitchen.
When I was just outside, I could hear Eva and Lizzy talking. They had a habit of enjoying quiet time away from everyone in the breakfast nook, chatting.
Eva called it her bonding time with the youngest in the family.
Moving into the archway, I realized they were discussing me. I should have expected it.
“You need to get Sophia to eat something.”
“Don’t you think I’ve tried? I can’t force her to eat.”
“Someone needs to do something. Sophia just sits there and glares at us like we’re keeping her prisoner.”
I shook my head. Quiet talker, Lizzy wasn’t—more on the end of an elephant stomping around.
“She can’t lose any more weight, or she won’t fit into the clothes for her next shoot.”
Hey, I was recovering from a concussion. Besides, I liked pasta. I’d gain it back faster than the designers liked soon enough.
“She looks fine. I only want her rested.” Eva, the ever-peacemaker.
“The wedding is in two weeks. I hope she will recover from whatever happened today. She needs all the energy possible to deal with Mom.”
“Knowing Sophia, she will return to her usual fighting spirit soon.”
“Well, it won’t happen if she doesn’t eat.”
I adored Lizzy and Eva, and their mother-hen routine brought with it a sense of comfort. But right now, all I felt was loneliness.
I want so desperately to share what happened with them. Well, maybe not Lizzy, since she was still young and naïve.
On the other hand, Eva had relationships but never the type of dynamic I’d shared with Damon.
The one time I mentioned visiting Lucian’s club, I had her freaking out and worried out of her mind.
I was almost twenty-six years old, and no one in my family saw me as an adult who understood how to live my life or make my own decisions.
Yes, I’d fucked up a time or two, but I’d grown, I’d learned. Hell, I’d come out with a successful career. Still, all the Morelli family saw was that rebellious, outspoken teenager who needed to be reined in and restricted.
The only person to ever treat me like an adult was the one man who’d shattered my heart by not trusting in himself.
He’d given me the power to feel confident in me, my sexuality, who I was as a woman. I had the freedom to be my bratty, defiant, out-of-the-box self. I wasn’t alone, I was safe, I was loved.
I’d returned to my previous role, the black sheep, the outsider, the one nobody could figure out.
My lips trembled, and I leaned my head against the kitchen archway.
How could Damon do this to me?
How was I going to survive?
Why was I always the one left behind?
* * *
