Always Forever | ✓

Chapter Three

D E V I N

"SHE'S YOUR FUCKING grandmother!"

"Oh, come on. You know that's a lie. She's not worthy of that title. She was never a grandmother to us."

I take another deep breath, exhaling through my mouth and inhaling through my nose like Dr. Reign taught me. My feet feel like they weigh twenty pounds, I find myself not wanting to stroll around the space to give myself breathing room.

We've been at it for thirty minutes. Back and forth, and nothing. Not a change in her voice to predict she's hurt over the news. Not a sniffle or a croak. How can she be so callous?

Then again, I'm not fucking surprised. Mom's always said Camila has more balls than me. She's the strongest out of the four of us, mentally not physically, at least I have that.

"Camila, if you'd try to understand—"

"All I can understand is the fact that my brother interrupted me on my vacation to ask if I was going to the funeral of a person who meant nothing to me. Who I meant nothing to."

Talking to Camila is like talking to Genevieve about sex before marriage. She just won't budge. It's her way or...her way. If they'd both use their listening ears they'd agree with most of what I say. Funny how Camila doesn't like her, yet they have a few things in common.

"I don't understand why you're even calling me about this," she continues, chastising me like only a big sister can. "Don't even entertain his email. Send it to spam and block the hell out of him."

"Camila, you know better than anyone that I can't do that."

She huffs. "You can't or you won't?"

I loved my father. I still do, he'll always be alive in my heart and in my memories. Our father loved his family. No one but me knows how much it ripped him apart to have to choose between the love of his life or his family.

"I won't. Please, understand," I try in vain to reason with her.

"No, Devin. I'm not going and neither will Isabel or Valentina. You'll waste your time calling them. Trust me."

I can hear Gabe asking who's on the phone followed by some shouting and girly giggling. On any other day, those sounds would bring a smile to my face and joy to my life. Not today. I find it hard to smile, not because I have nothing to be happy for, but because my face feels heavy. My facial expressions are taking longer than usual to form.

"Listen," Camila's back on the phone, sounding calmer. "I have to go."

"So, it's final then, you won't go?" I attempt one last time, asking for her to change her mind.

"No." She hangs up and I try with Vale, but after going straight to voicemail for another half hour, I give up and call Isa.

"Hey, Isa. What's up?"

"Nothing much just doing groceries. You?"

I scratch the back of my neck, assessing the best tactic with her. "I was calling to see if you received an email from Uncle Perry."

She takes a while to answer back. "Uncle Perry? Do we even have an Uncle Perry?"

"Yes, Isabel, Dad's brother."

"Oh." Just like that I know she got the email, too. Why she wants to act stupid and pretend she doesn't know what I'm talking about is beyond me.

"Are you going?" I ask the ultimate question.

"I can't. It isn't because I don't want to. It's because I don't have time off my schedule. Lucas and I are trying to have a baby and I don't want to miss any days off work because I might need them for appointments."

"Bullshit! Fuck, Isabel! She's your grandmother."

"A grandmother who hated us and our mother. How can you even entertain the thought of attending her funeral?"

Same words as Camila. This is unbelievable. She must have gotten to Isa before I did. I exhale a heavy sigh, feeling my muscles crack. I'm exhausted. This conversation is going nowhere. I'm fighting a losing battle. I click on her. There's no point in continuing this conversation.

As I angrily pull at my hair, the bright sun lasers into my eyes, making me blind for a second too long. Walking forward, I slide the balcony doors and gaze at the opulent sky and crowded streets shouting their honks.

Despondency builds in my spine, weakening my bones as I gaze into the afternoon light. Closing my eyes, I envision the empty road, the cool breeze of the ocean, and a peaceful nightly sky. An overly loud honk has my heart speeding, fogging my neat image.

It's a fucking lie. Another illusion of peace and hope in a desolate world of looters. All I want is peace and quiet. There's only one way I can get that.

My shoulders slump as I close the blinds, preventing the sun from peeking in as I walk to the bedroom. It's too bright for such a shitty day. Not bothering changing clothes, I cover myself with sheets and fall asleep, dreaming of the day I'll see Dad and Grandma again.