Page 6 of Final Installment
Suddenly, I was fourteen years old again, sobbing while she hurled insults at me.The shame and the fear and the realization that my mother didn’t believe me were just as real today as they had been then.
“That is not what happened,” I insisted quietly.
“So you said.”She held out her hand.“I need a credit card for last minute wedding expenses.”
“Mom, please.I just gave you—.”
“That money is to repay me for the trauma of raising you.Frankly, you owe me ten times this much!”
A desperate need to defend myself took hold.I wanted to scream at her, to remind her that she had been adequately compensated during her divorce.
But I didn’t do it.I couldn’t do it.
Because if I opened my mouth to argue with her, she’d bring up my mistake and verbally beat me with it.I couldn’t bear it, not today.
I’m so weak.So pathetic.
And she knows it.
She raised an eyebrow and gave me an expectant look.“This is not up for discussion, Elona.Give me a card.”
Reverting back to that little girl who feared her mother, I opened my wallet.Thankfully, I’d expected this.Earlier, before leaving the house, I had taken my two business credit cards and my personal Amex with no limit out and hidden them in a Ziploc bag taped under the driver’s seat of my car.I grasped the only card left, one with a small limit, and gave it to her.“Here.”
“What’s the limit?”
“Twenty.”
She frowned.“That’s not enough.Do you have another card?”
“No,” I lied and prayed I’d done it smoothly.“I only travel with one.”
“Do you have any other cash?”
“No.That,” I gestured to the thick stack of cash she clutched, “cleaned me out.”
She eyed me critically, as if she could tell I was lying.“Get changed.And go visit your sister.”She glanced at the second floor.“She’s suffering so much for our family.”
If only my mother had ever given a damn about my suffering...
Chapter Two
Islowlyclimbedthestairs,each step bringing me closer to facing my sister.When I reached my old bedroom, I couldn’t help myself.I pushed the door open and wasn’t the least bit surprised by what I discovered.My room had been converted to an oversized closet complete with seating areas, floor to ceiling mirrors and expensive built-in shelves, drawers and cubbies for shoes and handbags.
Guess it’s a good thing I planned to stay at a hotel tonight.Unless I wanted to curl up on a pile of Chanel, Ferragamo and Balmain, there was no place for me here.
Rolling my eyes at my mother and sister’s ostentatious display of wealth, I closed the door and made my way down the hall to Dafina’s room.I knocked twice, and she screeched, “I’m getting ready, Mom!Jesus!”
I anxiously cleared my throat.“Dafina?It’s me.”
The door swung open, revealing Dafina in a button-down chambray shirt, black Lululemon Hotty Hots and white Hokas.Her hair was a deeper, more honey-toned blonde than the last time I had seen a photo on Instagram.Her brows had been recently microbladed, and I was pretty sure she’d had her lips done, too.She was stunningly beautiful, and I was left wondering how the hell we were related.
She scowled and jabbed her phone at me.“Come to gloat?”
“No!Of course not.”I gestured to the phone in her hand.“I’ll come back.”
“No.Stay.Just—wait.”Irritated, she lifted the phone to her ear.“No.I’m not ignoring you!I—it's my sister.No.No.She doesn’t!Look, I’ll call you when I leave.Okay?No!Just...please.Wait for me, and don’t do anything stupid!”She ended her call and tossed her phone across the room and onto her bed.“Well, come in I guess.”
I didn’t dare ask who she was talking to on the phone.It obviously wasn't a work call, not with the way she was acting.It sounded more like a lover’s spat.The less I knew about that, the better.
