Page 47 of Forced Proximity
My light luck held out, and the street that I would have to cross flicked with a “walk” sign just as I was getting up to it.
I crossed the street, looking at several surprised drivers who looked a little flustered.
I paid them no mind as I got to the hospital entrance and my sister.
“What do you want?”
I could tell with just one look that Daniella was in her manic state.
“He won’t answer my calls,” she hissed.
Of course he wouldn’t.
“You need to go see your therapist,” I said. “And take your medicine.”
Daniella was already shaking her head. “I can’t. I need you to call him.”
“I’m not calling him,” I told her. “Go talk to Mom. I’m working.”
“You’re not working. You’re outside.”
I nearly rolled my eyes. “I’m outside the hospital, where I’m about to head inside to go work.”
She scoffed. “I need your help more than you need to work.”
If she only knew what kind of debt I was in, she wouldn’t be saying that.
Though, she would’ve still asked for my help instead of me going to work.
“I’m not arguing about this. I’m at work,” I said. “If you need anything, go find Mom.”
Because she would help Daniella in a heartbeat.
Because Daniella was her favorite, and always had been.
“This isn’t something that Mom will like me doing.”
“Then it’s for sure not something I’ll like,” I pointed out. “I don’t agree with your stalking. I didn’t agree with you getting engaged to that fucker in the first place. What I do agree with is you taking your medicine and acknowledging that you have a problem. Now, make an appointment with your therapist and go see her.”
“Why’d you even go there, anyway?” she asked, ignoring my suggestions.
I drew in a deep breath, then let it out. “Because I wanted you to know that he wasn’t the one for you.”
Because I could just see the headlines now: Eugene Delemonte, best friend of Senator Josh Horn, has a stalker. A restraining order has been filed against Daniella Rossi.
Then yet another set of friends would know about my sister’s awful behavior.
We’d already moved multiple times because of Daniella’s many “relationships” gone wrong.
I didn’t want to do it again.
Hence me trying to help her before it got any worse—i.e., she pulled out the showing up in his home unannounced thing she liked to do and setting up cameras.
“I can’t believe you won’t help me.” Daniella crossed her arms over her chest and pouted.
It worked with my parents.
It’d never worked with me and Romeo, my brother.
