Alessandro Marino:
I was prepared for a Isadora to break down in my arms and cry. Cry out of anger or some sort of betrayal. However, her face only rose in a way of realization and triumph.
"Are you...happy?"
"I am a fucking genius." She whispers to herself in shock.
"That's a quite-"
"I am a fucking genius!" She is now shouting and my god am I scared of this woman.
"I just told you that your dead grandmother isn't actually dead and your proud of your own- whatever."
"I knew that ages ago."
"You knew and you didn't tell me."
"Why would I tell you?"
"I'm going to pretend I am not hurt by that tone Isadora Rose."
My face must have dropped by now due to this, aka the weirdest conversation I have ever been in. This woman's grandmother died and was buried but he didn't and she wasn't. But it's all alright because her grieving granddaughter played Sherlock fucking Holmes.
"How did you know?"
"I had a feeling and-" you have got to be shitting me.
"You dug up a casket because of some feeling."
"It doesn't matter because I was right."
"It does matter because what if you were wrong and you had to see her corpse beginning to rot away."
"But I wasn't wrong and I didn't see a single corpse funny enough."
This is woman, she will be the death of me.
"How does what's-his-face fit into this?"
"Who, Frankie?" That's the one.
"Mhm. How do you know him?" I push.
"We're friends and I work for him I guess."
"Oh."
"You didn't think we were- oh my god you totally did." The gasp was very unnecessary.
"No need for the dramatics."
"Are you jealous Mr Marino?"
"Of course I'm not jealous. It's not like we're together or something." I scoff before storming off.
I really regret saying that. It's only been a few moments but a feeling of guilt just sunk in. I turn to the window to see her fixed in position, still standing in the garden.
The look on her face is unknown to me. She can not be read from where she stands and I don't know how I feel about it. I wasn't lying but I still feel like a guilty man walking free.
"That was fucking weird." A familiar voice murmurs from behind me.
"Shut up Andrea."
"I know you, brother. You care for the girl so stop being such a dick."
"I'm not being a dick." She scoffs like an angered mother.
YOU ARE READING
Pretty lies
RomanceRoses are such a beautiful part of our world, representing love and all that is good. They are meant to bring people together and bind them in happiness. But all roses have thorns that draw blood from those who were too naive to stay away. So, what...
