"I'm home. Where's the new girl?" Kenny called out, the distinct rattle of his keys being set down on the counter reaching me in the living room.
He walked into the room at the same time as Scott and the brunette.
My insides turned and twisted in on itself when I saw Scott. We awkwardly looked away at the same time.
"Stace? But you're supposed to be—" Kenny cocked his head to the side in confusion.
"Nevermind her, we're going anywhere that's not here," said the brunette, grabbing her coat off the couch and forcing Kenny to backtrack. "We'll pick the one when I get back?" she said, looking back at me with a smile, sounding excited.
It had taken me all this time to place her voice, having only ever heard it over Zoom calls. I took a step forward and looked her in the eye for the first time since getting here.
"Willow Brady?" I exclaimed, covering up my surprise with a quick smile. "Yes, of course. I may have found you something even better than what we talked about."
So this was the face behind the caked on goth makeup. I couldn't get over how stunning she was. My gaze went back and forth between her and her brother.
"We were never here," said Willow, giving me a quick thumbs up before she continued pushing Kenny into the kitchen.
"Look bossy new girl, I've had a long day—" began a protesting Kenny.
"Be cool, read the room and tell me all about it anywhere but here," said Willow, forcing Kenny out of the apartment.
The door closing was the last thing to be heard before the awkward silence descended between Scott and I.
"Some first meeting that was," I said nervously breaking the ice, my face heating up in embarrassment for not recognizing Willow sooner.
Scott said nothing. He did move closer to sit down on the couch though. I took a seat next to him, making sure not to sit too close. The seconds dragged on, feeling like hours.
"So I'm here. I didn't leave, obviously," I said, looking up at the ceiling.
"Why not?" he finally budged. "What about your dad and your fiance?"
The contempt and disbelief in his voice made me want to put up my guard. It's not like I stayed because you kissed me. It's not like I saw stars when you did. You didn't factor into my decision at all.
Instead, I went with a safe, "I declared my major. Business school."
"Stacy, that's amazing," he said, immediately wrapping me up in a bear hug.
He pulled away quickly and awkwardly mumbled, "Congratulations. I knew you could do it."
He looked down, refusing to meet my eye.
"You were right. I used you as an excuse to not have to stand up to Don Angelo. I'm sorry," I said, looking down too.
"You were right too. I was out of line. Any guy would be lucky to marry you. I just want you to be happy, Stace. I'm sorry too," he said, taking one of my hands into his and giving it a squeeze.
Then he finally looked at me and I swear the world stopped. Despite the threat of Don Angelo hanging over my head, my world was alright, if only for that moment. I squeezed his hand back.
"She really is beautiful, Scott. I'm glad I got to meet her."
He let go of my hand and got up. The forgiving mood in the room shifted.
"I think we need some space, Stace. I'm happy you're staying, but—" He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, putting more and more distance between us with every step he took.
"You don't want to be friends with me because of something I can't control. I didn't ask to be born into the mafia, Scott," I said, the sting of rejection returning in full force.
"This isn't just about me. You're hard wired into my life. That's my sister, Stacy. That's the single most important person in my humble life. Do you know that she talks to you more than me? She's damn near obsessed with you. All I have heard about for months now is this stupid prom you're helping her get ready for," he said, sounding frustrated. "My one job in life is to protect her. And the sad fact is I don't know you."
"Scott," I objected with a shaky voice.
No more words came out of me when I saw the raw emotion in his eyes.
"I told you about my parent's divorce the very day that I met you. My hopes, my dreams, my insecurities, my inability to connect with people. I've shared everything with you. Until this morning, I knew nothing about your past. You're a stranger, Stacy Kendrick."
"And you're my best friend," I said with a lump in my throat.
I got up and walked to the window. We were now on opposite ends of the room. For an eternity, I watched traffic move along.
Trust no one. Not even me.
Another one of Don Angelo's stupid lessons. Another way in which I hadn't been living.
"My real last name is Luciano. I'm half Italian. I changed it to Kendrick when I got to New York. It's my mother's maiden name. My mom left Don Angelo when I was ten. He got me and she got my younger sister Jenny in the divorce. Remember when we met? When I said I haven't seen my mom and my siblings in a day? That was the first and last time I looked in on them through the window. My mom had another baby. I haven't been able to—"
Warm arms wrapped around me and I broke down. I bawled my eyes out for a good ten minutes, then looked up at him.
"It's a lot of shit. I have a lot of baggage," I said.
"Tell me all of it," he said, rubbing my arms up and down.
"What about your space?" I sniffed. "What about Willow?"
"Space is overrated," he said, kissing my forehead. "And Willow will probably give me shit if I try to tell her what to do. So what she does is up to her. Are you sure this is what you want? To stay here in New York?"
I nodded unabatingly.
"Then I'll make some coffee," he said, gently pulling away.
We got set up in the kitchen, sitting side by side at the island, waiting on the coffee maker.
"Ask me anything," I said, ready to unveil intimate mafia secrets if need be just to keep him talking to me for one more night.
"So what exactly do you do for the mafia that has your dad calling you back every couple of months?" Stacy scrunched up her face, hesitating. By now she had detailed her father's entire operation. What was one more thing? I knew more details than I was comfortable with knowing. Was knowing this shit safe? Sleep would not come easily tonight. This was the last question I got to ask Stacy before Kenny and Willow walked through the door at one in the morning. "Parrrr-ttttyyy," they howled together, stumbling through the door. "Willow Eleanor Brady, are you drunk?" I asked, getting up from my seat at the island to follow her into the living room. "I guess that's my cue to leave," Stacy mumbled behind me, taking the opportunity to get up too and duck her head. "Full naming me, I see cool bro mode is not active," said Willow, dragging Kenny's inebriated body to the couch and dumping him onto it."I'll see you both tomorrow," said Stacy, her eyes pleading for me not to ask my question
"Boys are stupid," I said to no one in particular, as I entered my apartment.I couldn't really blame Scott for freaking out after everything I laid at his feet last night. Still, it would have been nice if Willow didn't find out like that. My past brought me no joy. In fact, I was ashamed of it. Now that it was all out there, I felt like Scott was judging me. How did he expect me to tell him my most personal shame? Aren't we all entitled to some secrets?As I went from the kitchen to the living room turning on the lights in the apartment, something immediately struck me. My study's door was open. I know I closed it before I went shopping with Willow this morning. The cushions on my couch were all at different angles.Passing the coffee table with quiet careful steps, I made my way over to the corner of the room where my bookshelf was located. I slid my fingers along the books until I found the one I wa
There's this joke that goes, "I asked God for a bike, but I know God doesn’t work that way. So I stole a bike and asked for forgiveness."If daddy was God, then Scott was my bike. And every single time I went back home was me asking for forgiveness for knowing him. Waking up in Scott's arms was bad for my resolve. I tried so hard to tell him last night that I was leaving, this time for good. But when I looked into his warm brown eyes and his goofy smile revealed his dimples, I lost my nerve. Now here I was, lying in his bed next to him, gently brushing his dark curls with my fingers, thinking about how much time we had left before my flight tonight. "You've accomplished absolutely nothing in the last seven years. It's time to come home," daddy had decreed. I couldn't exactly say he was wrong. With my father uprooting me every couple of months to come home and "Take care of business", I still hadn't declared a major. If I had, NYU likely would have academically excluded me by now. M
Kenny always says that I'm girlfriend goals for Scott, because we never argue. Well we were about to debunk that myth on the side walk of a busy New York road. "I have to go," I said, making my way to the door of the bakery. Conflicting thoughts went through my head. I knew, with absolute certainty, that the door to me coming back to New York or having any sort of life outside of being Luca's wife would close when I got on that plane. But what choice did I have now that I'd exposed Scott's existence to the entire mafia?"Stacy, wait," I heard Scott call out to me. I couldn't see his face, but I was so caught up in my own feelings that it wouldn't have mattered what he looked like anyway. Behind the fear and the paranoia, I was just exhausted. Trying to run from being Don Angelo's daughter had drained me. Something in me snapped and I exclaimed, "You're not going to change my mind. This wedding is happening." Even as I said the words, briskly walking to keep Scott from catching u
Earlier that day… "I think you're being a little bitch," said Willow, sipping on her smoothie. "You've said that already. Thanks for siding with your brother by the way," I said, nudging her gently. Not two hours after walking away from Stacy, I picked Willow up at the airport. She was here for the weekend, checking out NYU to see if she might want to go here next year and I was showing her around. Seeing Stacy upset had caused me physical pain, a tightening in my chest, but I needed to get away from her. It felt like there was nothing else to say. She was going to do what she was going to do. That was probably the anger talking, but I didn't want to hurt her by saying something I couldn’t take back. So I left. Now the whole thing was haunting me. "You didn't let me finish. You're being a little bitch and I think it's great. Fantastic in fact," Willow continued, as we walked the same paths I used to walk with Stacy. "I went on live television and declared how well I know her. We
"Boys are stupid," I said to no one in particular, as I entered my apartment.I couldn't really blame Scott for freaking out after everything I laid at his feet last night. Still, it would have been nice if Willow didn't find out like that. My past brought me no joy. In fact, I was ashamed of it. Now that it was all out there, I felt like Scott was judging me. How did he expect me to tell him my most personal shame? Aren't we all entitled to some secrets?As I went from the kitchen to the living room turning on the lights in the apartment, something immediately struck me. My study's door was open. I know I closed it before I went shopping with Willow this morning. The cushions on my couch were all at different angles.Passing the coffee table with quiet careful steps, I made my way over to the corner of the room where my bookshelf was located. I slid my fingers along the books until I found the one I wa
"So what exactly do you do for the mafia that has your dad calling you back every couple of months?" Stacy scrunched up her face, hesitating. By now she had detailed her father's entire operation. What was one more thing? I knew more details than I was comfortable with knowing. Was knowing this shit safe? Sleep would not come easily tonight. This was the last question I got to ask Stacy before Kenny and Willow walked through the door at one in the morning. "Parrrr-ttttyyy," they howled together, stumbling through the door. "Willow Eleanor Brady, are you drunk?" I asked, getting up from my seat at the island to follow her into the living room. "I guess that's my cue to leave," Stacy mumbled behind me, taking the opportunity to get up too and duck her head. "Full naming me, I see cool bro mode is not active," said Willow, dragging Kenny's inebriated body to the couch and dumping him onto it."I'll see you both tomorrow," said Stacy, her eyes pleading for me not to ask my question
"I'm home. Where's the new girl?" Kenny called out, the distinct rattle of his keys being set down on the counter reaching me in the living room. He walked into the room at the same time as Scott and the brunette. My insides turned and twisted in on itself when I saw Scott. We awkwardly looked away at the same time. "Stace? But you're supposed to be—" Kenny cocked his head to the side in confusion. "Nevermind her, we're going anywhere that's not here," said the brunette, grabbing her coat off the couch and forcing Kenny to backtrack. "We'll pick the one when I get back?" she said, looking back at me with a smile, sounding excited.It had taken me all this time to place her voice, having only ever heard it over Zoom calls. I took a step forward and looked her in the eye for the first time since getting here. "Willow Brady?" I exclaimed, covering up my surprise with a quick smile. "Yes, of course. I may have found you something even better than what we talked about."So this was th
Earlier that day… "I think you're being a little bitch," said Willow, sipping on her smoothie. "You've said that already. Thanks for siding with your brother by the way," I said, nudging her gently. Not two hours after walking away from Stacy, I picked Willow up at the airport. She was here for the weekend, checking out NYU to see if she might want to go here next year and I was showing her around. Seeing Stacy upset had caused me physical pain, a tightening in my chest, but I needed to get away from her. It felt like there was nothing else to say. She was going to do what she was going to do. That was probably the anger talking, but I didn't want to hurt her by saying something I couldn’t take back. So I left. Now the whole thing was haunting me. "You didn't let me finish. You're being a little bitch and I think it's great. Fantastic in fact," Willow continued, as we walked the same paths I used to walk with Stacy. "I went on live television and declared how well I know her. We
Kenny always says that I'm girlfriend goals for Scott, because we never argue. Well we were about to debunk that myth on the side walk of a busy New York road. "I have to go," I said, making my way to the door of the bakery. Conflicting thoughts went through my head. I knew, with absolute certainty, that the door to me coming back to New York or having any sort of life outside of being Luca's wife would close when I got on that plane. But what choice did I have now that I'd exposed Scott's existence to the entire mafia?"Stacy, wait," I heard Scott call out to me. I couldn't see his face, but I was so caught up in my own feelings that it wouldn't have mattered what he looked like anyway. Behind the fear and the paranoia, I was just exhausted. Trying to run from being Don Angelo's daughter had drained me. Something in me snapped and I exclaimed, "You're not going to change my mind. This wedding is happening." Even as I said the words, briskly walking to keep Scott from catching u
There's this joke that goes, "I asked God for a bike, but I know God doesn’t work that way. So I stole a bike and asked for forgiveness."If daddy was God, then Scott was my bike. And every single time I went back home was me asking for forgiveness for knowing him. Waking up in Scott's arms was bad for my resolve. I tried so hard to tell him last night that I was leaving, this time for good. But when I looked into his warm brown eyes and his goofy smile revealed his dimples, I lost my nerve. Now here I was, lying in his bed next to him, gently brushing his dark curls with my fingers, thinking about how much time we had left before my flight tonight. "You've accomplished absolutely nothing in the last seven years. It's time to come home," daddy had decreed. I couldn't exactly say he was wrong. With my father uprooting me every couple of months to come home and "Take care of business", I still hadn't declared a major. If I had, NYU likely would have academically excluded me by now. M