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I nodded, a bittersweet smile playing on my lips. "I'm sure," I said, stepping closer to the painting. "Look, right there in the corner. That's her signature. I'd recognize it anywhere," Vincent leaned in, his eyes narrowing as he examined the delicate swirl of initials in the bottom right corner of the canvas. The strange look in his eyes disappeared almost as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by a warm smile. "You must be very proud of your mother," he said softly, his gaze shifting back to me. Yes, I knew my mind should have lingered on how strange the exchange between us slowly became, but when it came to my mother and the memories she left behind, it was easier to just block everything out. I felt a lump form in my throat. "Yes, I am," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "And I miss her... so much." Vincent opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, a melodic voice interrupted us. "Vincent! There you are!" We both turned to see a tall, strikingly
The drive back to Roman's mansion was quiet, save for the soft classical music playing in Vincent's car. My mind was a ballroom of thoughts and emotions, all centering around the man I I knew I shouldn't be thinking about. Still, somehow after my trip o had come to realize just how much I had spiraled. I do not know who I become when I'm around Roman. The memories, they were blending into one, confusing the fuck out of me but being out after what had happened. Speaking with Vincent…made me realize that I was forgetting who I was. Vincent, probably sensing my mood, didn't push for conversation, and I was grateful for his understanding. As we pulled up to the gates, I felt a knot form in my stomach. What would I say to Roman? I had questions, and this time I will not be distracted by those lips…or those blue orbs that seemed to see through all of my thoughts. The questions swirled in my head, making me dizzy with anticipation and dread. "Thank you for today, Vincent,
I bit back a retort, reminding myself to stay civil. "Is there something I can help you with?" I asked, trying to keep my voice leveled. The last thing I wanted was to face her. I had to think, I can't think with her here. Victoria stood up, smoothing down her impeccable white designer suit. "I'm looking for my son," she stated, her tone implying that this should have been obvious. "Where is Roman?" I hesitated, realizing I actually had no idea where Roman was. After our confrontation this morning, he could be anywhere. "I believe he might have left for the office," I said carefully. "I'm not sure when he'll be back," Victoria's eyes narrowed. "You mean to tell me," she said, her voice dripping with condescension, "That you don't even know where your own husband is?" She lifted a brow, looking down at me like I was a speck of dirt that just got smaller. I felt the corners of my lips twitch at her words. Gosh, this woman must think she can be a bitch to everyone! "Ro
Vincent didn't tell me much about his family, only that he had a few sisters and a mother who nagged him all the time about making friends and such. He said it was a small family gathering, nothing too big so I dressed semi-casual. It was a simple dress. I stood in front of the mirror, tugging at the straps of my sundress. It was a simple thing, light blue and perfect for the warm weather. As I ran my fingers through my hair, I realized it had grown longer than I liked. It now fell past my shoulders in black waves. I made a mental note to visit the salon soon to get a proper trim and maybe a new color. The last thing I wanted was to look like the woman I woke up as, sure she was me…but I will never be her. My stomach churned with nerves. I was meeting Vincent's family today, and I had no clue what to expect. I barely made proper friends when I was younger, not to talk of meeting their family. Maybe I was making it seem more dramatic than it should've been but I really
With a barely audible sigh, Roman stood to his full height, ready to leave. But before he did, he called out to me once more, his tone softer than before. "Amelia... be careful today, and if anything comes up, let me know," Is he…worried about my well-being? Or worried I might be kidnapped because of him again for reasons best known to him? His concern, however genuine it might be, only served to frustrate me further. "There's no need for that," I replied, my as voice cold and distant as I could make it in that moment. "I can take care of myself." Roman's shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly as he sighed again. "I know you can. That's not... Look, I just want you to be safe. Is that so wrong?" For a moment, I felt my resolve weaken. The softness in his voice, the worry in his eyes - it was almost enough to make me give him a reassuring comment or forget everything. Almost. But I couldn't. I couldn't let myself fall back into the confusion and hurt of the past few weeks. I
I wasn't sure what I expected, but a small two story house that seemed to be a few years old wasn't it. I half expected Vincent's home to be as extravagant as the mansion he lived in. The man was loaded. As we approached the simple wooden door in front of us, I wiped my clammy palms against the side of my dress a few times. Vincent knocked on the front door without hesitation, and I held my breath, clutching the gift for his mother tightly. The door swung open, revealing a petite woman that seemed to be in her early fifties with a beautiful face that bore a striking resemblance to Vincent. It was like looking at the female, older version of Vincent. Her eyes lit up when she saw us, a warm smile spreading across her face. "You must be Amelia," she exclaimed with a wide grin, her gaze merely brushing with her son's. "Come in, come in!” she gestured us in. Then she turned to look at Vincent with a glare, “Vincent, you're late as usual," she swatted his arm making him flin
After giving countless apologies to Vincent and his family, I rushed out of their house, hoping they won't find my abrupt departure to be rude and probably see me as some sort of prude. Vincent had offered to drive me over to my family home but I had politely declined. Quite frankly, the last thing I wanted was for him to catch even a glimpse of what my family is like…compared to his. I would be so ashamed. After a few minutes of standing by the side of the road, I finally found a taxi. I gave him the address off the top of my head. Reciting it put loud stirred up feelings that I wanted to forget. It made me realize how much I preferred being under Roman's roof than that of my father's. But why…why do my options only ever have to be choosing the lesser evil. I was so lost in thought, I didn't realize when the car pulled to a stop right in front of our small gated estate. “Miss?” The driver's voice pulled me out from my spiraling thoughts, “We are here,” He informed. I m
As I approached my father's study, my heart raced. Each step felt heavier than the last, as if my body was fighting against my decision to come here. I paused at the door, taking a deep breath to steady myself before knocking. It took a few seconds. I'd even taken a step back in those short moments, I intended to leave. To gather myself properly before facing him. "Come in," my father's stern voice called out. My back went rigid when I heard that familiar voice. I felt a ghost of pain across my skin, almost like my body was reminding me what happened whenever I went against him. I'm a grown ass woman for crying out loud! Why should I be afraid of him? I pushed the door open, and immediately regretted my decision to come. There, behind his imposing desk, sat my father, his face set in its usual disapproving frown. But it wasn't just him. Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me. I saw Monica and Bertha seated in plush armchairs, their eyes fixed on me with unconceal