I think back to the conversation with Mom, trying to pick apart her words to find the reasoning behind her decision.
“It’s for the best,” she says as she shuffles pages on Dad’s desk. He used to be so proud of his office. He would ensure it was a place of work and a space for solitude. “This is the only way we will keep our family business afloat.”
“But we have the money to survive without—”
My mother’s glare cuts me off. “If your father we’re here, he would be so frustrated at your lack of concern.” Her voice cuts through my chest, lancing my heart along with my soul. I was Daddy’s girl. He loved me unconditionally and my mother knew it. At times, I would wonder if she was jealous because their relationship seemed strained at the end. Before Dad killed himself.
The funeral is tomorrow, and even though I don’t want to go, I have to. It’s not that I don’t want to pay my last respects to my dad, it’s because I don’t want to say goodbye.
I still don’t understand why my father would seek death over a life with his family. Watching me grow up and live my life.
And I’ll never get the answers.
“Okay,” I finally acquiesce, because I can’t fight anymore. I’m exhausted. She will never understand the heartache I feel, and when the news of her husband’s death went public, how draining it was to keep up appearances on social media. The strength I thought I had, has slowly ebbed away.
My mother’s anxiety was palpable when we had the conversation about my upcoming nuptials. Not because I would be getting married, but because she was afraid I would refuse, and that makes me nervous. There has to be a reason she’s so hellbent on this union, and I will find out what it is before I walk down the aisle to marry a stranger who doesn’t know me at all.
The glow of the moon appears as the clouds float away, and once the silvery light illuminates my window, I take in Los Angeles in the distance. I’ve done my research on Thorne Haven, it’s a town that’s surrounded by darkness, by a forest that leads off to a lake. I’m sure it’s beautiful, but I’ll miss the view of glittering lights from my window.
Tomorrow, I have to pack my life up and make the journey to my future. I lift my cell phone and open Instagram. Scrolling through my notifications, I try to ignore the vile words that people spew at me. Even when I posted the image of a gray, rainy day at the cemetery, I was vilified for it. My heart had broken into a million pieces. Losing a parent isn’t easy, but the people behind their keyboards don’t care.
They find strength in their vicious comments. I’m almost certain that if I were to see them face to face, they’d fake a smile and attempt to be friendly. I’m about to close the app when a message pops up in my inbox. I shouldn’t answer, I shouldn’t even look at it, but curiosity gets the better of me.
Tapping the icon, I gasp at the name that greets me—FinnT. It can’t be him. But when I tap on the profile, it is indeed my future husband. I’ve scrolled through his profile before, careful not to heart one of his photos, so he doesn’t know I’ve been stalking him.
When I open the message again, I read his words.
You’re up late princess. Shouldn’t you be getting your beauty sleep?
I wonder if he’s trying to goad me. When we met at the graveyard, he didn’t seem interested in talking to me. He was polite, but there was ice in his tone. I ponder my response for a moment before I tap out a reply.
Beauty sleep is only for those who need it.
I have a feeling he thinks I’m like all the other girls who show off their perfect side. Maybe he knows I’m hiding pain behind the smiles and the filtered images. Maybe that’s why he seemed aloof when we met. If I’m going to spend the rest of my life with him, I would want him to feel something for me, something other than disdain. Maybe this is the way we’ll connect.
Like I thought, a perfectly poised princess. I wonder… Is there a humble core to the over-confident veneer?
His question confirms my suspicions. He thinks I’m like every other influencer out there. I’m far from over-confident. I was taught to never show weakness, so I don’t. But I can’t trust him to show him the real me. Not yet.
It will take time, but when I finally arrive at his home, Finn will find out I’m nothing like the profile he’s clearly been stalking. A small smile tugs at my lips when I think about him scrolling through my photos.