Black Rose

Chapter 18

"I'm pretty sure that if you flip it, it will fall," I told him.

"Would you have a little faith?" he asked.

"Nope, because I know what's going to happen," I pointed out.

"For once Rosie, just believe in me," he pleaded.

I shrugged. "Fine."

He flipped it and it fell.

"She told you," my fiancé commented beside me.

"She jinxed it," Richard complained.

"Whatever you need to say to feel better little brother," I replied.

"So, what exactly happened with you and Cammy?" my brother asked as he cleaned up the mess he made.

"She came here and she said her piece. We're not on the same page, so I kicked her out because she was being disrespectful," I summarized.

"Who would've thought that she of all people would react like this?" he asked.

I shrugged once more. "I really don't care. Has mom woken up yet?"

"She was up about an hour ago, but she threw up before going back to sleep," he replied.

"Hasn't she been asleep for an abnormally long time?" Olivier asked.

"Nope! This is normal for her after she's been on a serious binge. She should be up in the next couple of hours," my brother replied, only for my mother to walk into the kitchen looking as disorientated as ever.

"Or maybe not," I said lowly.

"Where the fuck am I?" she mumbled.

Well then, off to a great start.

"Where do you think you are?" Richard asked her.

"Richie?" she said in confusion.

"Wow," I said, disbelief clear in my tone.

This woman has some nerve.

She frowned as she looked at me. "Rose?"

I was about to get up and leave, but my fiancé stopped me. "You've got this."

"Where the hell am I?" my mother repeated.

Olivier squeezed my hand one more time before I replied. "You're in my house."

She scowled. "Your house? And who is this man?"

"Mom, what do you last remember?" Richard asked as was routine.

My mother was genuinely confused as she sat down. This was a process for her. She'd always get wasted beyond comprehension, and then sleep for days, before waking up with no recollection of what happened days before.

Or at least it takes a while to come back to her.

"Rose, the magazine article, you..." she trailed off, looking at Olivier.

"Hello Mrs Kidman. I'm Olivier Black," my fiancé introduced himself.

"You're rich, you're black, you're bad," she rambled.

"Mom, this is my fiancé," I bothered telling her while Richard fetched her a glass of water.

"You're marrying a black man?" she asked in confusion.

"Yes, I am," I confirmed.

"He's done many bad things," she commented.

"Most of which are not true," Olivier defended.