red herring [h.s.]

43.

Harry.

It was well in our second week of living in the Catskills that Stella was for once not the first one at the breakfast table.

Silence loomed over the house as me, Dominic and Mike awkwardly sat down without having conversation. We just each sipped our coffee and nibbled on our toast as a few birds chirped and we heard a distant lawnmower buzzing from somewhere.

Who the hell mows their lawn in February.

The soft ticking of the clock seemed louder than other times, because none of us knew how to talk to one another without Stella present. She didn't realize it, but she was definitely acting like a buffer between me and the other two. We had never gotten along. They always despised me for being prioritized by Matt and I was too frustrated with their idiocy most times.

It was easy enough to see that they softened up around Stella, like everyone did. It just took her a few days to have them wrapped around her finger without knowing it herself. It was just the effect she had on people. She cared and it got them to trust her and open up to her. She was the easiest person to do that with. It happened to me without noticing.

It wasn't something she actively tried, but it just happened to whoever got to know her. It was impossible not to like her. Dominic had stopped his blatant flirting and jumped to her aid whenever needed. Mike was more careful with whatever noises he made, making sure he left Stella in her peace and quiet while he turned down the television a bit and chewed with his mouth closed.

It did cause the atmosphere in the house to be a little nicer. Them holding Stella's wishes into account also meant it was easier here for me. They didn't get on my nerves that much. After a few days ago – where Dominic pointed a gun at me and threatened to shoot me in the dick – all had been pretty calm.

My eyes flicked up the stairs when I heard the creaking of the floorboards and I softly cleared my throat, "Small warning... Stella's on her period." I mumbled.

Dominic and Mike shared a look before shooting me confusing glances, "Okay?"

"She's no walk in the park in that time of the month." I continued, "She gets quite impatient."

"Stella? Impatient?" Dominic joked and I hummed, "Yep, hard to imagine, I know. Just beware that she might snap or bite at you, and she gets super emotional about stupid shit. She's probably gonna cry about that tree again."

"What tree?" Mike frowned and I pinched the bridge of my nose, "The tree she shot last weekend."

Dominic shot me a deadpanned look, "Remember how curious we all were to see if she resembled Kristina in any way?"

I huffed out a chuckle, "Yep."

"The daughter of Kristina Esposito cries because she shot a tree." He continued, ending in a small snicker and I nodded with an amused grin on my lips, "She does." Somehow it warmed my heart to know that Stella was nothing like Kristina. She was just herself, everything I knew her to be, all the good things in the world.

It was hard to imagine I doubted it even for a second. I remembered thinking she was playing me, that she was linked to Kristina in more ways than we were aware of. None of that was true. It was all genuine.

I had been giving her her space lately, which is what she asked for in the first place. One night while listening to her silent sobs in the bedroom when she thought I was asleep, I made the decision. I decided to not be selfish, for once. I had been selfish with her for months in a row. It had to stop now, I had to do this for her. I realized that there was a very good chance that we'd never be romantically involved together.