Chapter 180

“Now we’re done eating how about I get out all the stuff I have planned for your wedding and we go
through it, there’s a ton you still need to agree to and oversee. Arrick’s been great at responding…
When you won’t, but I need your input.” Leila blinks at me across the dinner table as the twins high tail
it after their father for the TV room, squealing like crazy because he promised them a transformers
movie marathon and popcorn. Leila seems glad to have her two hurricanes leave her alone for a little
while and looks overwrought and a tad frazzled tonight.

I never doubted my sister loves her kids, but I don’t see them having anymore. Two boys with Leila’s
spirit, and Daniel’s ADHD, is enough for any family to handle. Daniel seems content too, he loves his
boys and I think they have their happy number.

“How about, not right now?” I try to avoid the topic, heart sinking at even the thought of a wedding and
fish for my cell to text Christian back. We have been texting on and off since he came to Paris and
tonight he wants to know why he just saw Arry going solo for dinner with Nathan, Jenny, Jason and
Claire, when he knows I am back in the states. I mute my phone and slide it back into my bag. I’ll call
him later and try and palm him off with some plausible reason.

“Right… Screw this… Tell me what the fuck is going on! Arrick had to go back to the city for work? …
Fine, I get that lame excuse. For days though, without coming back here once? I know him, Sophie. It’s
only an hour on the jet here, and Jake and Giovanni come home every night. He would come with them
if you two were okay… In fact, if you were okay you wouldn’t still be here, because home is not a place
you hang around when he’s not here.” Leila shocks me out of my distraction with her outburst and I
instantly tense.

I sigh and drop my face on the table groaning, because I know what’s coming and denial is futile. Leila
is like a blood hound even on a bad day. Lying never gets by her and evasion gets you physically
assaulted. I love my sister, but sometimes she is terrifying.



“Leave me alone… We’re fine, we don’t need to live in each other’s pockets all the time.” I try for
petulance and moody teen, but it gets me a bread roll thrown at my head.

“Really? Two years of Arrick and Sophie conjoined twins … In fact, eight years of that, then suddenly
you two are sleeping apart. What gives? Please tell me there IS still a wedding to be had?” She seems
furious and it riles me because this is my damn life and I am sick of everyone thinking they can control
it and me. When are they all going to give me some credit and realize we have been happily living
together, well sort of happily, for the last two years. We can handle our own problems.

Can we?

“Look, I don’t know okay. Paris made everything shitty and right now… I don’t need this bullshit, Leila.” I
snap at her and get up angrily from the table almost knocking her house maid over in the process as
she tries to pick up plates. I mumble an apology and help right the pile in her hand that’s leaning
dangerously.

“So, are you even together anymore?” Leila is homing in on me, wide eyed and I guess shocked at the
turn in this nice evening dinner and I pull my jacket on.

“Yes… Sort of. Wedding… I don’t know… Talking about this? Nope… Goodnight, Leila.” I make to go
for the door, and she is after me faster than a panther, grabbing my wrist before I get out safely.
Spinning me to her with amazing strength for a short ass.

“Why, Sophie… What did he do? Do I need to hurt him?” Leila looks tearful and I know this isn’t just
sadness for me. She adores Arrick like a kid brother, so this bites her on both ends. I never thought
how much Arry and I falling apart could affect the rest of them, but I now see how it would go. Our
parents, our families, they are all so intertwined that us breaking would change the whole dynamic. We
may be two bloodlines, but the Huntsbergers and the Carreros consider each other family.



“Nothing… I … I feel trapped and hemmed in. Not by him, but kinda by him… I can’t explain it. I need
space, Leila. Trust me… I know what I will lose, I still love him just as much. Can you not hit me with
wedding stuff until my feet are more firmly planted back here in the US of A. I’ve barely been back five
minutes and I need to acclimatize to American soil once more.” I don’t give her any more time to harass
me, turning to head out but she is relentless.

“We want to see you both happy.” Leila calls after me in desperation, knowing she has me running and
I throw her a half smile across my shoulder as a way of saying we are okay.

“I love you, Lee Lou, have some faith in me. Kiss the boys goodbye.” I move fast before she catches
me, and I’m halfway out to the front door of her gorgeous hallway before she calls once more.

“I do… I love you.” She calls as I step out into the fresh air and make a break for freedom. It’s getting
dark even though it’s not late and I head out across the lawn for home. I’m staying in my old room and I
know that I should face up to why I even wanted to be here tomorrow and speak to my mom. I need to
get a good night’s rest and try to get my shit together or my ducks in a row, come tomorrow morning.

***

The beach is eerily peaceful because of how late in the season it is. It’s almost Christmas and the
wintry weather has been late in moving in this year. There should be snow by now, yet it’s been mild,
and the sea looks unnervingly calm at this early hour. I pull my jacket around me a little more, against
the cold wind and watch the curl and crash of waves as the tide moves in again. Letting all the sounds
of nature overtake my brain and give me a little respite.

I didn’t sleep much and was up at the crack of dawn for no reason. A few hours of crazy dreams where
I woke up sweating and panting and calling out Arrick’s name. I don’t recall what it was about, only that
I felt like sobbing when I came around and ever since all I have wanted is his presence. I’m restless,



achy, and still with the damn morning nausea that hasn’t begun to go away. It happens mostly in the
first hours of the day and I seem to feel tired all-day long.

It doesn’t feel like it was only a couple of days ago that this all happened, and I had practically no
bleeding when I showered. I’ve no idea if that means something or if I am over-thinking and all of this is
my body not even close to recovering and completely normal. I make a mental note to ask my mom to
check me over when I get the courage up to tell her and push it to the back of my mind.

I decided to take a walk to get my head straight, before my mom got up, seeing as it was before six
a.m. and headed out with no real plan in mind this morning. It’s funny that even after all these years my
feet took me the well beaten path that Arry used to take almost every weekend for something to do.
Down to the beach to wander around and watch the sea. It used to calm me and soothe me, but today
it makes me feel sadness.

I miss him.

I have an aching lonely pining inside of me today and I know it’s partly because I need an Arry hug. I
want to hear his voice, rest my head against that strong heartbeat and catch my breath. I made a
mistake in asking him to go but the lack of texts or calls from him have hurt me. There has been
nothing at all. Not even one text to ask if I am okay and it’s not like him. I wonder if he is still mad at
me, still wounded and sulking.

I know I should call him and break the silence, but I want to be surer of what I am doing before I breach
the subject with him again. I don’t want to walk back into bickering and fighting. It isn’t fair on him to go
home until I know what I should be feeling or doing with myself.

I’ve had emails from the New York fashion school concerning my new term and I felt deflated when I
read them. I haven’t replied; all my get up and go over my career has deserted me. It’s like my mojo



has drained away and I am back to feeling lost. Like back before I was his and he was mine, when my
life was drifting and had no real focus and I was clueless to what I needed to do. I feel that way again.

Being back home is helping my soul in small ways. All that hysterical anxiety and home sickness of
Paris, the crazy dependency on Arry’s presence because of the devastating loneliness, has begun to
recede in being here only a couple of days. I’m more like myself in simple ways, and I know that this
time around my familiars and people I genuinely love and trust, is good for me.

Christian wants me to have lunch with him soon. I still haven’t told him I have no idea how long I will be
out here and as far as he knows, I’m having some family time after being gone a year. He’s not stupid
though, he’s choosing to not pry until I’m ready to tell him. Jenny has been less frequent with her calls
and texts, not that I have been trying to contact her. She’s pregnant with her second child and as much
as I love her, I cannot handle it right now. It’s too painful.

I wanted Arry’s baby. I can’t deny it anymore; it’s gone through my head the whole time I walked this
beach this morning. The sadness, the anger, and the numbness. Emma was right. I maybe went into
denial and shock at finding out I was pregnant, but deep down my heart invested anyway and I am
grieving. I cannot deny that anymore. I’m sad because it was real, it was a part of both of us inside of
me and I let it slip away. I had one job, that was to protect our baby and nurture it. I failed.

My guilt is real.

My pain is real.

***

Walking back in the house mid-morning when hunger and coldness call me back along the beach, I
hear arguing when I close the front door behind me. Distant voices raised and echoing along the hall
alarmingly.



Olivia my family housekeeper smiles nervously, takes my jacket when she greets me and tries not to
look as though she is listening to the raised voices down the hall in a closed room. It’s hard not to hear
it when two people are screaming at one another and I throw her a concerned look.

“Is that Rylanne?” I ask her, knowing my brothers voice and she nods nervously and scurries off to
hang up my belongings. Olivia is a shy and quiet girl that is about my age and she never really speaks
to anyone.

I take a deep breath and head for the kitchen instead. I do not want to get caught in another Rylanne
and Bree showdown and have no intention of listening to them have another marital bust up. It’s not
often you find them here when there is no family event going on, but this isn’t exactly new either.
Rylanne is the family problem nowadays. He’s my second eldest after Ben and he has major long-term
issues.

Okay so I know I have issues, but his are way more problematic to the family dynamic than mine ever
were.

His real father was a drunk with gambling issues who used to beat him, and Rylanne has never really
broken the cycle. My parents have spent years with him, trying to curb his addictive nature with sex and
women, trying to calm the aggression within him. It all goes to shit when he drinks, and he does so
frequently. He’s cheated on Bree more times than I can count and yet she’s still married to him. They
only got married after Arrick and I moved in together, so in the same amount of time that we were
getting our life sorted. Rylanne has screwed over his wife a half dozen times that I know of.

I know he’s hit her too. It’s a family sore that no one wants to pick at and he’s back in counselling for his
rage and his sex addiction once more. I tend to keep away from Rylanne. I mean as a brother he has
always been okay with me, but I have never trusted him the way I trust my other brothers. My issues
and his, never gelled. He’s the only one I find it very hard to have a sibling bond with.



“Hey” I’m met with my Mom sitting in the kitchen looking tense and cradling a coffee and I realize she
through here to stay out of the firing zone. I know her though, staying close enough to listen in case
Rylanne loses his shit. He maybe only hit Bree once, but that was once enough for everyone in the
family to never trust him when he is like this. Drink is his demon, and this is a big clue to him hitting the
bottle again. He has been to rehab more times than I have had hot dinners and he has relapsed a
million times more.

“Hi, darling.” She looks distracted, trying to act cool and pretend like he’s not on one again and I play
along. This act we do when he’s on the start of another nosedive.

“I went for a walk along the beach. It’s good to be home.” I smile as I pass her, leaning to kiss her on
the cheek and set about making myself a cocoa in a bid to make noise to cover the shouts. I need to
warm my bones up and I’m starving too. I am trying to not care about what they could be arguing about
but it’s making me tense and reminds me of so many stupid memories and emotions I am not in the
mood for.

The yelling gets louder, and I stiffen. Not comfortable with the obvious aggressive tone in Rylanne’s
voice and my mom gets up fast and scurries to the door to listen. She looks worried and I go rigid as
something is smashed in the other room, ringing loudly in an unmistakable way which makes my
stomach lurch in fright. My mom disappears in a flash and I know she has gone to intervene in case he
lashes out at Bree again. My heart hammering with insta-nerves and I impulsively follow.

Not because I want to get involved, but because if Rylanne dared to hurt my momma in his rage I
would tear his fucking head off. She is my momma after all, and I will fiercely protect her at all costs.

I follow her at speed, but she’s faster than me and already in the small cozy TV room we have under
the marble stairway, when I run in behind her to the weirdly calm scene.



Rylanne is pacing like a madman, his blonde hair messily ruffled like he just rolled out of bed and his
clothes are disheveled and dirty. He could have slept in the gutter for all I know.

Rylanne isn’t exactly intimidating. I mean he’s around five feet eleven and built sturdy like a footballer
and he’s not exactly ugly or villainesque. All my mom’s kids got the good-looking genes. I guess a lot of
money helped with that though as Rylanne had surgery to fix some obvious scarring and a broken
cheek bone when he was first brought here. He doesn’t look like a guy who would beat you or abuse
you. Soft bone structure, kind eyes and when he’s not a drunk, he can be sweet and almost loveable.
Rylanne has two sides to him though and right now is the part I never want to be around.

Bree is standing beside a smashed vase sobbing her eyes out, a tiny curly haired brunette with small
features and big eyes that reminds me of a kitten. Actually, reminds me of a certain Arry ex I never
want to compare her too. She looks ravaged, like she threw on clothes from the floor and hightailed it
over here without even looking in a mirror.

“What happened? What did you do?” My mom throws at Rylanne accusingly, the little feisty in her
showing teeth because she thinks her boy has lost control again. I glare at my brother and go to Bree
to try and console her, not sure what’s been going on or why they are here fighting but my mom
obviously has some insider knowledge.


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