16|madeline

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DANTE MANCINI—JULY

STEPPING OFF THE ELEVATOR, I took notice of my sister Anna seated on my couch with a book in her hands. She had been here for two days already and I was more than excited to have her here. In all honesty, she was the most important person in my life and being able to spend time with her after such a long expanse of not seeing one another was like a breath of fresh hair.

"Food's here," I called out to her as I moved over to my kitchen island, setting the Chinese takeout down.

I was extremely hungry and was already beginning to eat by the time Anna stalked into the kitchen and took a seat beside me with her food. Knowing my little sister, the smirk that I saw quirked on her lips let me know that she formulating something snarky to say to me.

"Spit it out."

"Whose lip gloss was that on the couch?" She inquired without hesitation, lifting up said lip gloss in her hands. And as soon as my gaze landed on it, I knew that it was Naomi's no doubt.

I practically choked on my broccoli as I tried to sputter out a response. I shouldn't have been this messed up about her finding that, I was sure she knew that I was always involved with multiple women—well, not recently at least.

"I don't think that's any of your business," I muttered finally, adverting my gaze as she pried for even more answers. "You should have just left it where it was."

"And risk messing up your couch with NYX Butter Gloss in the shade Madeline?" She rushed out, waving her hands like a maniac.

"Just eat your food, Anna."

Luckily, I was able to steer our conversation away from that topic—not before snatching the gloss away from her. Instead, we talked about Anna's life and how she was doing with her career. Since she was little, she's always wanted to be a filmmaker and I was proud that she was finding success with making indie films that were gaining a bunch of traction.

"Dante, there's actually something I want to talk to you about," she spoke in all seriousness as we cleaned up after finishing the meal.

Not knowing what Anna could possibly say because of how unpredictable she was, I encouraged her to keep going without a thought in the world. I should have thought it through first.

"Mom and dad really miss you. It's been ten years Dante."

I froze on the spot, feeling as if each and every muscle in my body tensed up at the words that flowed out of her mouth. I should have known she would bring that up—she always managed to—but I figured she had gotten over it.

"I don't care if it's been five, ten, or fifteen years. I'm not speaking to them. They didn't think about missing me when they were never around when I was a child," I replied as calmly as positive, not wanting to snap at my sister even though my blood felt like it was slowly creeping up on its boiling point.

"They're getting older which means that they've had time to ponder about everything and realize their mistakes. Dante, just listen to them."

I slammed my hand down on the counter, watching as Anna's piercing blue eyes widened in shock for a second before narrowing. "No! You don't know what it was like before you were born...and even after. You don't get to tell me how I should feel about them...they're my parents but they never treated me like their child. They treated you that way so you don't see it from my perspective."

By this point, I could feel my fists tensing and my nostrils flaring. This wasn't a conversation I wanted to have while she was here—I wanted us to enjoy our time together and here she was changing the whole trajectory. I understood that she wanted our family to be pieced back together, but what she couldn't understand was that it had never been whole in the first place. We had put on a facade of being the perfect family, a family that cared for one another when that wasn't the truth at all.

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