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“I don’t fucking care why!” He shouted so loud it hurt my eardrums. I looked up from my textbook. “I just wanted to come home to a nice birthday dinner, and instead, you mess it up like you always do. What the fuck, Kate? Why can’t you just be good to me?”
“I’m sorry.” I hated hearing her say that. I hated how he’d hurt her and then play nice to her, and she’d fall for it, every time. She’d always say how he’s changed. But my mom never seemed to realize I lived in the same house as her. I saw my dad every day.
And he never changed.
“You’re sorry? Make me a chocolate cake.” He lifted up the one she made and tossed it on the ground. When she bent down to clean it up, he kneed her in the face. Her cries barely affected me anymore. He scoffed at the sight of her, glared at me, then stormed off into the living room to watch TV.
Mom cradled her face in her hands, whimpering. “Leo,” she whispered. “Come help me, please.”
I stared at her in all her pathetic glory. “You should have made him a chocolate cake,” I said, turning away from her.
I’d never heard her let out such a gut-wrenching cry before. It almost made me feel guilty.
When I struck up the nerve to glance at her, she was curled into a ball on the floor, looking half-way to death.
* * *
I slamon my breaks when I reach my driveway. The more I get to know Francesca, the more memories of my parents hit me. Especially the guilt over not helping my mom when I had the chance. I just left her there and didn’t do anything.
And I thought she was the pathetic one.
I trudge inside, feeling the weight of all my actions hitting me at once. I’m just ready to see Francesca. I want to forget about my past and focus on the future. Though, the future is still filled with guilt, too. I’m not sure how I’m going to get out of this bet.
The only option is to fuck Francesca soon. I only have one more month to do it. If I don’t, Henry gets my job. And if I refuse, he’ll tell Francesca about the bet, which means I could lose the one good thing I’ve got going for me.
When I don’t find Francesca in other parts of the house, I head for the master bedroom. Everything is so quiet, it’s almost disturbing.
When I step inside my room, I freeze at what I see.
It’s Francesca. She stands up when I enter, her hands dangling nervously at her sides.
What has me frozen is what she’s wearing.
She’s wearing the lingerie I got for her.
CHAPTER14
Francesca
The week after my dad died, I went to my mom for comfort. It wasn’t something I’d normally do, but it wasn’t a normal time.
For once, she was alone in her bedroom—no other siblings around. All of us were dealing with the loss of our father in different ways. Gemma sulked in her room. Cecilia prayed. Antonio fought. Mia watched happy films to keep her mind off it, even though she kept crying throughout the movies. Emilia was already in LA by then. And Franco had settled himself into our house as if he’d bought it—which he hadn’t.
I was normally fine with being alone and spending my days with a book or at museums when I wasn’t in school. But I was still only fourteen, and I needed my mother, even more so since my dad had died.
Mom looked like a zombie when I entered her room. She wasn’t even moving.
“Mom?” I asked, approaching her. I kept repeating her name until I touched her arm, and she blinked, finally looking at me.
“Francesca? What are you doing in here?”
“I …” I wanted a hug. I wanted my mom to hold me. The words got stuck in my throat however, and I couldn’t force them out.
She sighed, looking disappointed with me. “I’m tired. I need to rest. Go to Emilia if you need something.”
“Emilia’s in LA, remember?”
“That’s right.” Her shoulders slumped, and tears began spilling down her face. “I miss her so much.”
