Tarnished Love by Bianca Borell
FILIP
“Bria is coming home,” my mother announces in a shaky tone laced with vulnerability.
I lift my chin from my dinner plate and clench my hands, emotions clawing at my chest over when will I ever forgive my sister?
“Why?”
“Filip.”
My father’s forest green eyes pin me with an earnest stare. I grit my teeth as I cut through my steak and gulp down some wine, my fingers tightening around the stem of the glass. I inhale, preparing myself for the request I am sure will follow.
“I don’t want to lose her a second time,” my mom says while dabbing the tears from the corners of her eyes.
Lose what? A complete stranger? I purse my lips and continue eating.
“Filip.” My father lowers his voice as if I haven’t heard him and his untold threat-slash-plea.
I push the plate aside and dab the napkin at the corners of my lips. “I’ll do my best.”
I excuse myself and dart outside to the porch. My gaze trails over the water, and I send a text to Sophia.
Me: Need you.
Sophia: I’ll take the next flight.
***
Gathered at the du Sky’s mansion, the door opens and my sister and Alexander appear. Everything stops, and the tension sizzles around us. I gulp my drink as I take in my sister. Her shiny hair reaches her waist, with shoulders held high, nose stuck up, her hazel, empty eyes pass over each of us, not once blinking or lingering longer than a second.
As Damien stops at the foot of the stairs, her gaze pauses, and I suppress a bitter cough. Even though she cheated on him, I guess loving him for so many years still jolts her out of her trance. I study them, their eyes locked, their bodies stiff, the past wrapping around them like a snake strangling the life out of them.
Sophia links her hand around mine and sighs, “Here we go again.”
***
We leave the du Sky’s and my parents insist on going to their home for dinner. The uncomfortable silence stretches to unbearable as we tiptoe around each other at the table. Bria murmurs something to Alexander after dinner and excuses herself. I force my body to remain seated, but I can’t do it. Instead, I follow her to the dock—her posture the epitome of desolation. Every time I see her like this, I remember the pain that broke her. Her back stiffens.
“It’s just me, sis.”
She half turns, and I drop onto the wood bench, patting the seat next to me. She sits, and the silence—the fucking silence—guts me. Bria used to be loud, colorful, and full of life. Now she is a shadow of herself, a walking, talking shell of a woman.
“You’re back,” I say just to break the quiet.
“I should have stayed away, right?” Her eyes seek mine.
“Why now?” I ask, wondering if she even knows.
“I had to.”
What force could have dragged her back after all these years?
“How long?” My breath halts, her answer a double-edged sword.
“Until I am done.”
We stare across the water, at the swans and ducks gliding. So many images of the past playing havoc with my mind.
“Damien will start a war, Bria”
“He’s stubborn, but I am ready.”
“Nothing to lose anymore?” I look at her while her gaze remains on the lake.
“Nothing at all, Filip.”
Her answer slays me. She’s truly dead inside, even though she’s still alive.
