𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐭 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐞

62|| Tequila

Celeste // August 2
-four months later-
•••

All my security guards carry little foldable umbrellas next to their guns, which they would wordlessly hold over me the second a drop of rain fell from the sky.

He bought me an insanely large apartment and sends lilies every week so it smells and looks nice.

He sends me letters consisting of everything he misses about me and ends all of them practically begging me to spend his money.

When one of my security guards told him I'd started engaging in illegal fights, he'd send me a private doctor and physiotherapist instead of making his men lock me inside.

He'd send me two buckets of vanilla and pistachio ice cream every time I'd had my period and even though I tried to hate it, I was impressed by his accuracy when it came to my cycle.

And after I killed Tobias Dupont, he'd send me a box of my favorite chocolates and a note that congratulated me.

He'd called to me, texted to me and wrote to me. And everything made it so hard to stay mad at him – he made it so hard to stay mad at him.

He did give me space by honoring my request for him to stay away from me, and even when I did miss him I was grateful for us being apart for a while.

What he did was wrong and it'll take a while before my trust will be restored, but for now these past months had given me something to build on.

I fixed the guilt in my body by kidnapping, torturing, drowning and killing the monster that was responsible for my sister's death.

It had taken two months for me to get into that little safehouse of his, but I'd finally gotten my revenge. I've read that good people don't choose the path of vengeance nor do they find any consolation in it – but I do.

What that makes me, I don't know.

And frankly, I don't care much either. Because for ones in my life, I feel good about myself.

Not about being with someone, not about achieving something and not about successfully adapting into other people's expectations – no. I feel good about me.

Just me.

"Merde," I curse as the scissor pokes through my fingertip.

Instantly two men rush to my sides but I wave them off, it's just a drop of blood after all.

I put the finger in my mouth and inspect the present before me to make sure I didn't ruin in with my blood.

It's the second day of August, which is one day before the third day of August which is the day Dante will turn thirty. It's his birthday tomorrow and I initially planned on sending him a cake but then I zoned out and accidentally customized a present and bought a plane ticket back to his city.

I suppose I could return it, but I'd stayed in contact with Adriana and Piero and the things they've been subtly telling me were building up in my stomach.

He hasn't been feeling good, maybe even bad, and the fact that he didn't ones complained about his own feelings or used his misery against me to make me forgive him faster made my heart feel all light and warm – just how it used to be.

My flight got delayed so I arrived in Chicago around midnight. It's officially his birthday and the thought of seeing him makes me excided, but also slightly nervous.

I step into a rental car along with two security guards and it's only then I realize that I have no clue where he actually is, so I decide to call his sidekick.