Page 51 of Frayed Bonds

She looks at me, confused before pointing at the screen. “Yes, and I’m a forty year old man with a foot fetish.”

It takes everything in me not to burst out laughing, because there’s nothing Karyn hates more in the world than feet.

“Okay, I know it looks like we were, but it only happened because he was standing so awkwardly in pictures and I didn’t want them to look weird..”

“So, you decided to hold his hand and place it in a more appropriate place. Of course, it makes so much sense,” she sips her coffee, a smirk slowly disappearing behind the cup.

“What makes sense?” I ask.

“That you have feelings for Ambrose,” she shrugs.

“I do not.” I roll my eyes and head back to the fridge.

“Oh yeah, tell that to sixteen year old Valerie who probably creamed her panties when he kissed your forehead last night.”

“You fucking stalker!” I exclaim and throw a dish towel at Karyn who dodges it effortlessly. “I thought everyone was asleep.”

She shrugs. “The walls have eyes and ears these days.”

“No, I just have a cousin incapable of minding her own business,” I say, folding my arms across my chest.

I can’t tell if I’m upset at the fact that Karyn saw what happened last night, or if I’m upset because she's right about the effect the forehead kiss had on me. She, and probably half the population of Tevici, knew I had the world's biggest crush on Ambrose growing up but because of how much older he was, I always knew it would never happen.

After last night though. I don't know. The signals are more mixed than a cocktail during happy hour. One second he’s all over me, and the next it’s exactly how things were before–him acting like a caring older brother or like I barely exist.

“What are you two arguing about in here?” my father asks, as he walks into the kitchen with his walker assisting him. He’s been using it a lot less now thanks to the physical therapy, but still uses it first thing in the morning when the joint is the most stiff.

“See, I told you he’d hear us,” I say towards Karyn and pull out a chair for my father. “Morning, Papá. Sorry for the noise.”

“Here you go.” Karyn hands my father a neatly folded twenty euro note. I stare between the two of them.

“Oh, yes.” My father does a little happy dance. “I knew it, those Vitale boys were always such gentlemen even in their younger days.”

“What is going on?” I stare at my father in disbelief as I wait for an answer.

“I bet Karyn that he’d walk you to the door after you two went out,” my father says nonchalantly.

“And I bet that you'd be lucky if he opened the car door for you,” she shrugs.

“I don't appreciate the two of you taking bets on my dating life, and if you,” I point at Karyn, “keep this up, you can forget about that off day since the two of you are getting along so well, I’m sure you'll hate to be separated.”

Karyn snickers before walking over and pulling me into a hug. “You love us, so shut up. I have to pack up a few things before I head out.”

I nod as she exits the kitchen and return my attention to my father, who is beaming at me like an excited child. “So, how was it?”

“No, absolutely not, we’re not doing this.” I cringe, and sit down at the table to eat.

“Doing what? I want to know how your evening was. Karyn mentioned it was a pretty big event at an art gallery, did you meet any interesting people?” he asks, and I can hear his genuine interest.

I sigh, there was a time when I told my father everything, but ever since I moved to Paris our relationship has been strained. Well, my relationships with everyone took strain, because Mattheo was practically keeping me from everyone, and everyone from me.

“It was good, I met an art curator from Paris there. He and Ambrose are going to be doing business together, so we spoke quite a bit about art and up and coming artists.” I shrug, a part of me wished I’d mentioned how I do commissioned pieces and that maybe he would have been interested in buying one, but I’ve never been good at putting myself out there.

“I’m glad you're meeting more people in the industry, Fiore Mio. I’m sure they'll all see the potential in you, the way your mamá and I did. Your time will come.” He smiles.

The mention of my mamá and his blind confidence in me causes a ball of tears to threaten to spill.

“So, what are your plans for the day?” he asks, changing the subject.

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