STELLA
Sadly,all dreams had to end.
Our boat trip in Capri was our last full day in Italy before Christian and I returned to D.C. with two new suitcases of gifts and souvenirs and my love confession trailing behind us.
Old me would’ve felt embarrassed about saying those words and not hearing them back, but new-ish me (because there were still parts of the old me in there) was more comfortable letting things play out in their own time.
That being said, our return to the city was more jarring after Italy than after Hawaii. After a month away, Christian was immediately swept up in the chaos of work, and I spent a good week digging myself out of the emails, mail, and tasks that’d piled up while we were gone.
I visited Maura, worked on my marketing plan, had drinks with Ava and Jules, and ran a million errands.
The adjustment to my normal daily life was harder, partly because I’d been gone for longer and partly because there was so much more to do this time around.
By the time the week ended, I was tired, cranky, and in desperate need of an extra-long restorative yoga session.
I decided to take that Monday slow and was making my usual morning smoothie when my phone lit with an incoming call.
“Hello?”
“Hi Stella, this is Norma.”
My hand froze over the blender.
Norma was one of my favorite nurses at Greenfield, but she wouldn’t call out of the blue unless something was wrong.
I set the half cup of ice back on the counter and twisted my necklace around my finger.
“Is Maura okay?”
She’d seemed fine when I visited her yesterday, but anything could’ve happened since then. She could’ve had a seizure, a fall, hit her head…
Worse case scenarios ran rampant through my head.
“She’s physically okay.” Norma’s soothing voice eased some of my nerves. “But she, ah, remembered what happened to Phoebe and Harold this morning.”
Just like that, the nerves came rushing back. “Oh no.”
It didn’t happen often, but whenever Maura remembered her husband and daughter, she got extremely agitated. The last time that happened, she threw a vase at a nurse. If she’d been at full strength, the nurse would be in a coma right now.
“Like I said, she’s fine now,” Norma reassured me. “Unfortunately, we had to sedate her.”
My stomach clenched. I’d asked Greenfield to call me whenever they sedated Maura. It wasn’t something they did lightly. Sedation meant she’d had a really bad day.
“I’ll come over right now.” I was already halfway to the door when Norma stopped me.
“No need. I know you want to see her, but she’s already sleeping, and you just visited yesterday.” Her voice gentled. “I only called to give you a heads up. Don’t stress too much about it, hun. These things happen, and we have it under control. I promise.”
She was right. As much as I hated the thought of leaving Maura alone after she’d been so upset, the staff at Greenfield were professionals. They were trained to handle such situations, and they could do it far more effectively than I could.
“Right.” I forced a smile even though Norma couldn’t see me. “Thank you for calling. Please let me know if there are any updates.”
“I will.”
I hung up and went through the motions of finishing breakfast, but I was too distracted to taste anything.
Maybe I should swing by Greenfield later just in case…
My phone buzzed again, this time with a new text that proved the day could, in fact, get worse.
Natalia: STELLA
Natalia: What the hell is this?
A photo from my Hawaii shoot accompanied her text. The Delamonte print campaign had finally gone live along with my Washington Weekly profile. Julian had done a great job writing it up, and Luisa was thrilled. She’d emailed me yesterday gushing over the piece.
Apparently, my family was less thrilled.
I could see why they might be shocked. My back was turned to the camera in the photo Natalia sent, but I was obviously topless. My bikini bottom covered the necessary bits and not an inch more.
The composition was artistic, not sleazy, but it was still probably the most scandalous thing an Alonso had ever been involved in.
Stella: A photo
I wasn’t in the mood to indulge Natalia’s demand for answers.
I’d known my family would freak out over the Hawaii photos, but I didn’t care. We hadn’t spoken since our dinner almost three months ago. Perhaps it was pride and stubbornness keeping us apart, or maybe I’d been right all along. They couldn’t care less if I was part of the family or not.
The only time they cared about what I was doing was if I embarrassed them. I wasn’t the least bit surprised that Natalia’s first message to me in months involved criticism.
Natalia: You’re NAKED
Natalia: Mom and Dad are freaking out!
Stella: I’m HALF naked. And if Mom and Dad are freaking out, they can tell me themselves. They’re adults. They don’t need you acting as their mouthpiece all the time.
We were texting, but I could practically hear her stunned silence.
I’d spent my life doing whatever my sister wanted and letting her push me around. I was sick of it.
If my parents had a problem with me, they could say it to my face.
And if Natalia had a problem with that, she could shove it up her you know what.
The three dots that indicated she was typing popped up, disappeared, then popped up again.
Natalia: I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, but it’s not cute. YOU’RE an adult, Stella. Act like one.
Natalia: Also, half naked isn’t much better than fully naked
Natalia: Dad is the chief of staff to a cabinet secretary. How do you think this will reflect on him?
Aggravation sunk its claws into my skin.
Arguing with Natalia was like arguing with a brick wall. She never backed down or tried to see the other person’s side. She was always right, and everyone else was always wrong.
Instead of texting back, I called her.
When she picked up, I didn’t give her a chance to speak.
“I. Don’t. Care.” I hung up and switched my phone to silent.
Was I acting like a brat? Maybe.
Would I regret my mini tantrum later? Probably.
But I’d deal with that when the time came. For now, shocking my sister into silence was the brightest spot of my morning.
Still, I couldn’t focus on work, so I changed into an old T-shirt and shorts and turned to the only thing that made me feel better when I was super stressed: deep cleaning.
I started in the kitchen and worked my way through the penthouse, dusting and wiping every corner and crevice. Nina cleaned once a week, but her last visit had been five days ago, so there was plenty for me to do.
My friends thought it was a weird stress relief tactic, but it was the perfect mindlessly productive task. Plus, every swipe of a damp cloth through dust felt like I was clearing out stagnant energy, which was a bonus.
Eventually, I made it to Christian’s office.