My name is Eveline. Eveline Tate.
I am the daughter of Lucas and Rebecca Tate. Yup, THE Lucas and Becca Tate. Don't ask me why, but I grew up knowing that they are someone important. Uncle Mike is still working for dad, as his bodyguard. I used to...
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Three weeks and four days.
Twenty-fucking-five days have passed since we are here, and I feel I'm losing my mind.
I want to go back to NY, I want to go out, I want to spend time with Pepa, I want to get drunk and have a fuck.
Okay, maybe not just any fuck, I want the fuck. I want Enzo.
I miss him so much that it hurts. I'm irritated and pissed almost all the time because I feel like pouring my eyes out and crying morning, noon, and evening. And at night!
I can't even do it to myself, releasing the tension, and damn... it feels like my hormones are all over.
It is literally impossible to do anything having all the family around, all the eyes on me, at all times, like I'm a fucking oil pipeline.
I want back to NY, back to my apartment. I can't handle all this attention around me anymore. It's suffocating. I need to be left alone and lick my wounds.
I want to be alone.
Nights are so white, one after another. I can't close my eyes to take at least a nap and on the second day, I look like a zombie, so much that mom has worried and she keeps nagging me for the past days to see a doctor, but I keep telling her an afternoon nap will do the job.
And I swear I have been trying to nap for the past hour, but this afternoon sleep doesn't seem to be on my side, so decide to get downstairs, thinking I might as well cook something for dinner, to pass the time... since I can't get drunk... or have a fuck.
The house is unusually quiet at this hour but passing by dad's office I see the door cracked and light is coming out in a thin beam, cut by shadows walking up and down.
Reaching the middle of the living room, I see mom on the patio outside on one of the two-seat sofas and grandma hugging and rocking her body lightly.
Aunt Tea comes out from my dad's office, and we meet face to face. Her eyes are dark, but she tries a smile when she sees me.
There is tension around. So much tension, thick that you can cut it with a knife, and it stabs a cold shiver in my chest.
"Aunt Tea, what's going? Where is everybody?" I ask her leisurely, but unable to ignore the very strange vibe all around.
"We're here. We're fine," she replies, and fuck, she really radiates anger.
"Who is not fine, then?" I ask her back and she looks so determined not to talk that it feels like one needs to pay for her words.
Dad comes out from his office followed by grandpa and uncle Mike. They are wearing their gun holders around their shoulders and their faces are hard like stone.
"Is someone going to tell me what the fuck is going on?" I shout at them, and my limbs start shaking.
"Language, pumpkin!" my father growls without spearing me a look, and then I know that somewhere, somehow, the shit has hit the fan.
