My apartment buzzer rings, and I have the burdensome obligation to answer it.
I make my way towards the small tablet on the wall beside the entrance door, and I click on the button that shifts my view to the person in front of my apartment. Before my eyes stand a stiff Capinelli, her posture erected straight as her fingers tense around the two large, brown bags she holds. Her hair is still fixed in her gorgeous updo, face still bearing the beauty of a bride's maid of honor. I can't imagine the shock that must have gone through her when she realized my fiancé, our long-time friend, ghosted me on the day she's been anticipating longer than me. It's affected her as much as me, and I can tell by the way her crystal eyes puff up with red.
I press the button to unlock my door and pull it open, only to be greeted by a charging and tight embrace. Capinelli buries her head in the cove of my neck, and I feel her small fingers cling onto the back of my shirt. The brown bags of what seem to be food are left abandoned on the floor, but I keep my eyes on them as I attempt to hold back the tears that tease the rim of my eyes.
"Why are you here?" I manage. But my voice cracks in the end. "I requested that everyone left me alone."
"Don't give me that crap," Capinelli snaps, pushing herself up to glare into my hazel eyes. Her puckered lips are stitched together, and her doe-like eyes attempt to shoot daggers into me. "You can shove everyone else away from your life, but don't you dare push me away as well."
I chuckle with exhaustion, for the first time today. "Stubborn as usual, huh." I gesture for her to enter. "Well then, make yourself at home, Maid of Honor."
"That was such an asshole-move of him to make," she scoffs, picking up her items and walking in. "That son of a bitch had the audacity to not only leave you at the altar in front of the a thousand guests you invited, but he left you a stupid bouquet of roses as well? He knows damn well you hate roses."
I cross my arms, grinning for the first time since yesterday. "I know right. Well, at least he gathered up the courage to mock me. He never had the nerve to do anything like that before—"
Capinelli gasps when she sets the food down on the kitchen counter. Her heels click against the marbled floors as she makes her way towards the living room, finding my pity party of broken glasses and wine-stained curtains. I watch with guilt and embarrassment as her hand makes her way to her mouth, body slowly turning to find the answers to her questions. I can't help but glance away, unwilling to see the piteous expression she now holds on her face.
"Mie..."
"Don't." This time, it's my turn to snap at her. I dig the nails into my palms a little deeper.
Silence enters into our conversation without notice, and it dominates our fizzling topic. There is always something magical and beautiful about quietness between two moving lips, but there's also something uncomfortable about it. Silence confines words on the tip of one's tongue. Silence stitches the mouth from moving. Silence dowses the fires of communication.
Silence makes thoughts and meanings slower to get across.
But somehow Capinelli gets my message quickly and returns her attention back to the mess on the floor. "At least you've been expressing yourself," she sighs. She offers me a piteous smile. "Back at the Cathedral, we were all worried about you since you suddenly became quiet. We were expecting you to become hysterical, but you hardly said a word."
"Well, you guys weren't the only ones concerned either," I reply.
After all, I am the type to create such a scene, especially for an event as big as that.
Well... I was anyway.
I eye her as she makes her way to my storage cabinet and pulls out a broom and dustpan. She cleans up my misery and anger like she has an obligation to and dumps it away in the trash as if it will solve anything.
To be honest, I'm the worst friend. Capinelli has no responsibility for me nor is she responsible for cleaning my messes and stitching me back to the way I was. This problem is a problem for me and me alone. I am the only one who can fix me.
I can't let myself be a burden to her.
Or else I might lose her like how I lost him.
"So, what did you bring me?" I inhale sharply, changing the tone of the conversation.
"Anthony's Grotto," she replies. "You're favorite."
I glance at her. "Thank you."
I don't deserve people like her.
"Don't mention it."
My phone rings as the two of us begin to pull out boxes of warm, delicious-smelling food onto the kitchen counter. Capinelli gestures to me to take it as she continues setting up our small party-of-two for us to enjoy.
I glance at my phone and find a name I'd rather not have call me at this hour.
"Mommy?" I greet, leaning against the stove just across Capinelli. I watch as her eyes widen at the name.
"Hello, my darling," my Mom greets softly, the tired tone of her voice making my eyes sweat again. "How have you been holding up?"
I glance at Capinelli who watches me with diligence as she decodes my conversation with my answers and expressions.
"Alright," I lie. If my mother knew what kind of tantrum I just had, she'd be worried as hell. "Nelli's having dinner with me right now. Anyways, Mom, why'd you call?"
I find hesitation before her response.
"I was just checking up on you," she answers now. Uncertainty taints her voice. "But I also have some news for you."
News?
My brows knit. "If it's about him—"
"No, Mie, it's not about that," my Mom immediately answers. I hear her sigh on the phone. "Your father and I have decided, for your sake, to send you to Albernacy to live with your Grandpappy for a while."
"Albernacy?" I frown, expressing my confusion to Capinelli as she does the same. "You mean, you're sending me away to the countryside?"
"Countryside?" Capinelli hisses.
I raise my index finger to my lips. "Why?" I feel another wave of anger claim me. "Is it because of today, Mom? Are you sending me away because you're embarrassed that your daughter got stood up at the altar?"
There it is. My overreaction.
"Sweetie, no, we can never be embarrassed of you." She pauses.
There's a 'but' to that statement.
"But you know that a good handful of your wedding guests had been your father's and ex's corporate buddies," she continues. I roll my eyes. Of course, appearances must be kept. That's the world of the wealthy and the privileged. Show no weakness, reveal no flaws, display perfection always. The life I've been living. And that's the kind of life I wanted to leave. "Mie, you understand that with what happened today, there's bound to be gossip amongst the other companies. For your sake, as heir to the Vinnaie Group, we want you safe and away from the press and prying eyes."
"You're sending me away for gossip?" I scowl.
"We're sending you away for safety." Her voice tightens. "Gossip will be gossip and it will soon die down as quickly as it was fueled. Just for a year, my dear, until we get this whole ordeal situated. Grandpappy will care for you well."
"Do you know how ridiculous that sounds coming from you?" I comment. "Putting your child in the care of a man you cut ties with so long ago?"
My mother inhales sharply from the other end. "Please, Mie. Don't argue... not tonight. It's been decided anyway. Your father booked you a flight for tomorrow, and he's already asked for a leave of absence in your brokerage."
"You what?" I yell.
"Please don't scream, my love..."
"Who the hell gave you the permission to do that?" I exclaim, making Capinelli jump. "I'll admit that booking for a flight tomorrow would tick me off, if only just a little. But you have the audacity to have Papa quit my job on behalf of me?"
"Leave of absence," she corrects. "You still have your job."
"What gives you the right?" My fist shakes beside me, and I don't care if Capinelli sees.
"We're concerned about your emotional and mental health."
"And taking away everything I still live for will help?" I snap. "Bullshit."
"It's either that or sending you away to your Uncle's in Germany," she threatens, raising her voice a bit.
Germany…
I freeze. "No..." My voice shakes. "You wouldn't dare."
"Pack your bags, Mie," she says firmly. "The chauffeur will pick you up promptly at eight in the morning." She pauses before hanging up. "We're doing this for you. So please, take this opportunity to get away and have a vacation. Have yourself be lost in time instead of worrying about it like you usually do. We love you."
Well, I don't.
But I know I don't really mean that.
I hang up and raise my arm to chuck my phone, but one glance at Capinelli's saddened expression calms my anger down.
"Albernacy, huh," she says, passing me the plate of food she's prepared. "You know, based on what I heard, taking a yearlong vacation doesn't seem that bad."
"So, you're siding with them?" I scoff.
"No, I'm just saying in general." She shrugs. "Don't think of it as them sending you away, but think of it as you getting away from the present to find yourself again. I know you too damn well, Mie, and I think what you need right now is a break from everything that's going on. You can't expect to go back to work after everything that's happened, do you?"
"Well, I want to try."
"Stop being stubborn and just take the opportunity," Capinelli says. "Who knows? Maybe you'll find yourself in a mini adventure that takes away all your problems and pains. Maybe in Albernacy, you'll find a way to accept and move on from him."
I widen my eyes as she says that, and they immediately turn to the envelope I still have on the counter.
Accept and move on from him.
I don't want to admit it, but Capinelli's right. At the moment, that's the one thing I must do in order to become the person I once was.
"Let that marinate inside you overnight," Capinelli says, smiling. "And maybe tomorrow, you'll find yourself a little more enthusiastic about the countryside."
And as always, she was right.
Gossip, Parents, and the Countryside.
How would you respond if your parents sent you away without your consent? Would you willingly go or will you fight to stay your ground? Let me know!
*Vote, Comment, Enjoy ^U^