Everything Between Us by Ferrera Mila

Author:Ferrera, Mila [Ferrera, Mila]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Grad School Romance, psychology romance, College romance, art, Graduate School Romance, New Adult College Romance, College Sexy, Romance, art school, art romance, Contemporary romance, mental illness romance, Psych Romance, New Adult Sexy, New Adult, New Adult Contemporary Romance, New Adult Graduate School Romance
Publisher: Mila Ferrera Books
Published: 2013-11-03T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen: Stella

Daniel’s standing by three paintings of marbles, and immediately I know they’re his. They have that brazen, happy, silly feel to them. But then again, everything feels a little happy and silly, because I raided my dad’s liquor cabinet right before getting in the car.

I knew I wouldn’t make it if I didn’t. The last two days have been exhausting, as I’ve tried to talk myself into coming and paced the enclosed porch at night, unable to sleep. I’ve been living for this moment, but it wasn’t easy to get here.

“Liza,” says a thickly muscled guy I recognize from the co-op website. Mark, I think? The one who looks like a Hells Angel. “How have you been?”

My mother kisses his cheek, and as she does, his eyes linger on me in a way that makes me want to take a step back. “Markus,” she purrs. “I’ve been so stressed lately, but I just got back from a week in Palm Springs and I feel much better.”

His meaty palm is on her bare back. “You look as amazing as ever,” he says, still looking at me. “Is this your sister?”

I snort. How cheesy can you get? My mother glares at me. Snorting is not good manners. “This is my daughter, Estella,” she says. “She’s taking a semester off from Wellesley.”

“We all need a break sometimes, I guess,” Markus says with a smile. He takes my hand and lifts it to his lips, but I snatch my hand away before he can plant a kiss.

“Nice to meet you,” I say, folding my arms over my middle.

He straightens up and smirks. “She looks just like you, Liza. Is she as talented as you are?”

“Definitely not,” I say.

Mom smoothes her hair and smiles at me. Somewhere in there is a hint of motherly concern, but mostly I see her need. She wants to be loved and recognized and admired. She’s not happy I’m here, but she didn’t feel like she could say no. She has, after all, been trying to drag me out of the house for weeks, so I trapped her when I asked to come tonight. If she said no, she’d lose her leverage. She couldn’t claim I wasn’t trying to get better.

So she’s taken another tack. All the way here in the car, she told me about my dad’s affairs in lurid detail, the time she walked into his office to find his pants around his ankles and a secretary on her knees in front of him, the time he answered the phone and she heard a woman moaning in the background while he told my mom what he wouldn’t be home for dinner, the time she checked his email and found naked pictures of one of the account managers. She slammed me over the head with the specifics, wrapped them around my neck and pulled reality tight. She wanted me to know she had a right to this, to Daniel, to their affair. She’s been wronged, and she’s finding her pleasure here.

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