Chapter 7. The Girls
Beach House, Rio De Janeiro
It was late when Severa finally came home. To avoid making too much noise, she snuck in from the back door, hoping everyone was already asleep. But as fate would have it, that didn't go her way.
"Where were you?" She had just slipped off her shoes and turned to head up the stairs when she whipped around to find the girls sitting in the living room. Narcissa ran over to her and started to check on her.
Behind her, Edith and Theodosia sat on the couch, both staring at her with a mixture of concern and curiosity etched on their faces.
Severa tried to muster a nonchalant response, but the weight of their gazes bore down on her, making it impossible to evade their questions. "I, uh, just had something to do," she replied, her voice betraying none of the exhaustion that weighed heavily on her shoulders.
Narcissa frowned, her brow furrowing with worry. "You've been gone all day," she pointed out, her tone tinged with reproach.
Severa sighed, feeling the weight of her deception pressing in on her from all sides. "I know, I'm sorry," she apologized, her words tinged with genuine remorse. "It's just... things got a little complicated, that's all"
Edith exchanged a knowing glance with Theodosia before speaking up. "Complicated how?" she asked, her voice gentle but insistent.
Severa hesitated, grappling with the urge to spill her secrets and the fear of the consequences that might follow. But as she looked into the eyes of her friends, she knew she couldn't keep them in the dark any longer. But she had to.
"I-I just walked around the city, looking at the life here," she stammered out, her voice barely above a whisper.
She saw the way Edith's face lit up as she jumped off the couch and started rambling and asking what she saw. Severa tried to focus on Edith's enthusiastic chatter, nodding along and offering vague responses whenever necessary. But inside, her mind was racing, her thoughts consumed by the dangerous game she had willingly walked back into.
As Edith continued to chatter away, Severa stole a glance at Narcissa and Theodosia, who were watching her intently. Their expressions were a mix of concern and understanding, a silent acknowledgment of the burden she carried on her shoulders.
Feeling a pang of guilt, Severa forced herself to push aside her inner turmoil, to bury it beneath a façade of normalcy. She couldn't risk dragging her friends into the mess she had willingly stepped back into. They had their own lives to lead, their own dreams to pursue.
"How about we make dinner and watch a movie?" The Theodosia asked, wanting to draw the attention away from the awkwardness.
Severa mustered a smile, grateful for the diversion. "That sounds great," she concurred, her voice quavering slightly. "I'll take care of dinner; you all can pick a movie."
She retreated into the kitchen, tuning out the chatter of her friends deliberating over movie choices. Her heart felt heavy, weighed down by the relentless ache of unrequited love.
As a child, it had been easy to mistake her feelings for mere infatuation. He had been her closest friend, a constant presence who stood by her through thick and thin. But with time came clarity, and she had come to realize that what she felt for him was more than mere crush; it was love in its purest form.
She cherished every aspect of him—the warmth of his smile, the sound of his laughter, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled too wide. Despite her attempts to deny it, she couldn't escape the truth: she was irrevocably, undeniably in love with him.
He had made promises—promises to write to her every day, promises to visit whenever he could. But those promises had been hollow, broken by the harsh realities of life and the passage of time. Slowly, painfully, she had begun the arduous process of letting go, of moving on from a love that was never meant to be.
Yet, as she stood in the kitchen, chopping up meat like a mindless mechanic, her heart and mind were at war. Her heart, still tender from the wounds of losing him the first time, ached with the weight of unresolved emotions. But alongside the ache, there was a flicker of hope, a glimmer of happiness at the prospect of having him back in her life again.
Each slice of the knife echoed the conflicting thoughts that raced through her mind. Memories of their shared past mingled with the uncertainty of their future, intertwining in a tangled web of longing and apprehension.
Despite the pain he had caused her, Severa couldn't deny the rush of emotions that flooded her senses at the mere thought of him. His return had ignited a spark within her, reigniting the flame of a love she had thought extinguished long ago.
But beneath the surface of her newfound joy lurked a nagging doubt, a fear that history would repeat itself, leaving her heart shattered once more. She knew the risks of opening herself up to him again, of allowing herself to hope for a future they might never have.
And yet, despite the uncertainty that loomed, Severa couldn't help but cling to the fragile thread of hope that bound her heart to his. For better or for worse, she was willing to take the leap, to embrace the possibility of love once more, even if it meant risking everything she had ever known.
She was brought out of her reverie by a sharp pain shooting through her finger, jolting her back to reality. With a gasp, Severa looked down to find a thin line of crimson welling up from where the knife had grazed her skin.
Cursing softly under her breath, she quickly rinsed the cut under cold water, hissing as the cool liquid stung against the wound. Pressing a paper towel against the cut, she took a moment to steady her breathing, the throbbing in her finger a painful reminder of the fragility of her emotions.
As she bandaged her finger, Theodosia walked into the kitchen. "He- Holy hell!" she exclaimed, rushing over to Severa and taking her hand in hers. "Are you okay?"
Severa gently took her hand away and went back to her task, ignoring Theodosia's concern. She heard her sigh. "Sev, look, I'm sorry for how I acted this morning."
Severa just stayed quiet, her focus fixed on the vegetables before her. Theodosia's apology hung in the air between them, a silent plea for forgiveness.
After a moment of tense silence, Severa finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's fine," she replied, her words tinged with resignation.
But Theodosia wasn't satisfied with her response. "No, it's not fine," she insisted, her voice firm. "I shouldn't have been so nosy. I should've respected your privacy."
Severa's shoulders tensed at Theodosia's words, the weight of her guilt pressing down on her like a leaden blanket. "It's not your fault," she murmured, her voice barely audible.
Theodosia reached out to touch Severa's shoulder, her expression softened with empathy. "I feel like you're going through a lot right now," she said gently. "And I want you to know that I'm here for you, no matter what."
Severa's eyes flickered with emotion at Theodosia's words, a mixture of gratitude and apprehension swirling within her. She knew she couldn't keep her secrets forever, couldn't bear the burden of her pain alone.
With a heavy sigh, Severa finally relented, allowing herself to lean into Theodosia's comforting embrace. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with unshed tears. The two stood there as Severa went back to chopping and Theodsia started making the pasta.
Severa focused on her task at hand, the rhythmic chopping of vegetables providing a comforting distraction from the emotions swirling within her. But even as she lost herself in the repetitive motions, the nagging question continued to gnaw at the edges of her mind: how was she going to navigate the balance between her loyalty to her friends and the resurfacing feelings she harbored for Dom?
It was a dilemma she had been grappling with ever since his unexpected return had uprooted her carefully constructed world. On one hand, she cherished the bond she shared with the girls, the unbreakable friendship that had sustained her through the darkest of times. But on the other hand, there was Dom—a ghost from her past, a reminder of a love she had long since buried, yet could never quite forget.
As she stirred the simmering pot on the stove, Severa couldn't help but feel torn between two worlds, caught in the crossfire of conflicting loyalties and desires. How could she reconcile the pull of her heart with the obligations she owed to her friends? How could she choose between the love she had always known and the chance at a new beginning?
With a heavy sigh, Severa pushed aside her doubts and fears, knowing that the answers wouldn't come easily. But as she continued to cook, her mind racing with possibilities, she made a silent vow to herself: she would find a way to navigate the tangled web of emotions that threatened to consume her, to forge a path that honored both her past and her future.
And as she plated the food and joined her friends in the living room, the weight of her uncertainty lifted ever so slightly, replaced by a glimmer of determination and hope. For better or for worse, she was ready to face whatever lay ahead—guided by the unwavering belief that love, in all its forms, would ultimately lead her home.
Wherever Home Was.