I wasn’t, though. She just doesn’t know what else he had planned for me.
She doesn’t know that marrying Elia was strategic. My father’s not willing to cross the most dangerous man in a town as small as ours, not yet.
Liv sighs, pressing her lips together. “Honestly, Care, what’s going on here?”
“I’m baking, same as usual.”
“You haveninety-sixmuffins here. How long have you even been up? It’s ten in the morning.”
“Uh, are you unaware that bakers get up early? Like, middle-of-the-night early?”
“You’re not a baker, though. You’re, officially, a housewife that enjoys dessert.”
I turn on my heel, inhaling a deep, cleansing breath. Flipping the light on to the double convection oven, I inspect the muffin-tops for signs of overcooking, but there are none. These are perfect, golden brown and fluffy. Baker quality.Checkmate, bitch.
“Did you just stop by to reiterate your disappointment in my life decisions?” I toss her a dirty look over my shoulder as she finishes her last bite. “You could’ve done that over the phone.”
“No.” She dusts her hands off on her pant legs, leaning her elbows onto the counter. “I came to check on my best friend, to see for myself that she’s still alive. Apparently, Elia gave Luca quite the beating last week.” A dark eyebrow raises in question, prompting me.
“You think he’d beat me?”
“I think you married a made man, and he’s capable of anything. And I know about you and Luca, just like I know what jealousy sometimes does to a person.”
An image of Elia standing over Luca’s bloodied body, then turning and crossing the room to take me into his arms flashes across my vision, startling me with its intensity. It’s probably extremely fucked up that I so willingly went to him after that, but God, no one’severcared enough about me to do something like that.
Nobody other than my father, who shouldn’t care likethatin the first place.
“Well, I’m fine.” I pull on two black oven mitts and throw open the appliance, reaching in for the last tin. The hot, fruity scent assaults me as I set the tray on the stove, shucking off the mitts.
“How can you really be sure, though? When’s the last time you left the house?” Her big, brown eyes scan my body, and I know what she sees; sweats, unwashed hair, and a splotch of muffin batter dried to my chin. “You don’t look like yourself, Caroline.”
How fitting, then, that I don’t seem to feel like myself, either.
“I just want my friend back.” Liv’s voice is soft, almost inaudible, and it makes my heart clench. “Don’t get me wrong; I’m happy if you’re happy, even if I don’t trust the guy. But I didn’t think you getting married meant I had to lose you, too.”
Turning to face her, I lean back against the counter, tilting my head toward the ceiling. “You didn’t lose me. I’m still here. I’m just… doing something different.”
Her eyebrows draw inward. “Juliet made it seem like you guys were soulmates that couldn’t stand to be apart any longer. Your response just now doesn’t feel like that, though.”
“Come on, Liv, you know me better than anyone. Do I ever tell my sister anything of consequence?”
“I know, but she seemed so certain.” She reaches out for another muffin, extracting it from its pan and tearing off the top, eating the bottom half first. My stomach lurches at the absolute disrespect, but I remain silent. “So, if that’s not the case—and, for the record,duh, like I wouldn’t know if you’d found your soulmate—what’s going on?”
I chew on the corner of my lip, contemplating the necessary details. I don’t want to involve Liv in anything that could get her into trouble, but I feel bad lying to her, too. She doesn’t exactly know everything that’s gone on at home in the last decade, but she knows my father is a piece of shit, which is more than I can say for my mom and sister.
“If I said it was time to get out from under my father’s reign, would you be able to just leave it at that?”
She frowns. “Uh, no. I definitely need more details.”
“Liv, I don’t think youwantthe details.”
“I think I do.”
“Olivia Taylor. No.”
She swallows, dropping the other half of her muffin onto the countertop in front of her. “Okay. Tell me this: are you in trouble?”
“No.”Not yet, anyway.