Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 95013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Beatrice walked into the room with her two sons, and not only did she give me an ice-cold look as she watched my future mother-in-law and her friends shower me with excitement, but she actually rolled her eyes.
“Uncle Con!” One of the boys beelined straight for Constantine, and the younger one followed behind.
“Oh no,” he said. “Here come the monkeys . . .”
They climbed him like a tree, and Constantine played along with it, holding out one of his arms so the boy who looked about four years old could climb it like a tree branch and hang down like a monkey in the jungle.
The other looked about two years old, and Constantine grabbed him and threw him over his shoulder, listening to his shrieking laughter. “Anyone got a banana?” Constantine asked. “Because I’ve got two crazy monkeys on me.”
Both boys laughed, clearly thinking their uncle was the coolest guy they’d ever met. They both started to howl like monkeys in the kitchen while everyone tried to finish up the dinner.
“There’s gotta be some bananas around here . . .” Constantine walked out holding both boys like they weighed nothing. “Maybe in the bathroom?”
“Ew, not in the bathroom!” one of the boys said as Constantine rounded the corner and headed to the other side of the house.
Beatrice walked forward and poured herself a glass of wine as she leaned against the counter. She looked dead tired behind the eyes and completely mentally checked out. She eventually pushed off the counter with her hips and left the room.
“Need any help?” I asked Sofia.
“No, no, no,” she said as she shook her head. “You rest, honey. Go have a seat outside. Dinner will be ready soon.”
I made my way down the hallway to see where Constantine had gone. He wasn’t in the house, so I headed toward the back terrace, the strings of white lights becoming brighter the closer I came.
Constantine was outside, talking to people while the boys continued to climb all over him like he was a living tree. He didn’t seem bothered by it at all, handling two rowdy boys like it was a walk in the park.
I spotted Beatrice drinking her wine by the back door, one arm crossed over her chest, watching Constantine entertain her boys.
I was tired of the animosity between us. This woman would be my sister-in-law in a couple of months, and she felt like a complete stranger to me . . . even an enemy. Constantine told me to ignore her and that he didn’t care what her opinion was, but seeing him play with his nephews like he was their father told me he cared a lot more than he let on.
So I walked up to her. “Hey, Beatrice.”
She turned to me slightly and acknowledged me with an indifferent stare. “Hey.” Then she looked out at the patio again and drank her wine—and waited for me to walk away.
“You know how silly this is, right?”
She turned back to me like she didn’t know what I would say next . . . but waited on the edge of her seat.
“To be prejudiced against me because I’m not Isabella. It’s not fair for you to hate any woman he brought home just because she’s not the woman you wanted him to end up with. It’s his life, not yours. You should support your brother and be happy for him. I know if this were reversed and you didn’t end up with his best friend, Constantine wouldn’t treat your partner like this. He’d take him out for a drink, invite him to hang out with the guys at the beach, completely include him in his life.”
She turned back to the door and released a sigh. “It’s not because of Isabella.”
“Oh . . .” So was it because she really just couldn’t stand me? That my presence was that off-putting? “All right, then what did I do that was so egregious, Beatrice? Because I’m generally a lovely person unless someone forces me to be vocal and combative . . . like you have.”
“Look.” She pivoted her body in my direction, and it was the first time she actually spoke to me like a real person worth eye contact and full attention. “It’s not you, okay? You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“So I did nothing wrong, and I still have to deal with the consequences? Yeah, that sounds fair.”
“I don’t want to do this here—”
“Well, we’re gonna,” I snapped. “Because you’ve had plenty of opportunities every day at work to talk to me and chose not to. Because we’ve had family dinners, and you’ve chosen to act like I don’t exist. I’m marrying your brother and having his child whether you like it or not, and I know my voice is rising and I’m mad as hell right now, but I would love it if we could find a way to get along. I would love more than that—friendship and sisterhood—but I don’t think you’ll ever give me that.”