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Talon and Thorne take revenge . . . and June.
The silence was deafening, as she glared at me. And glared at me. And glared at me. Finally, she cracked.
"Well? Are you just going to sit there, or do you have something to say?" she asked.
"Actually, I was hoping you had something to say. I already know what I'm thinking. It's your motivation that needs clarifying," I said evenly. "Please. Talk to me. I'd really like to know what you're thinking."
"My Mother has already made it clear that my opinion doesn't matter, and she'd prefer it if I kept it to myself," she said angrily.
"Well, that may be what she said, but you and I both know that your opinion does matter to her," I smiled. "She might not change her mind, but she'd be happier if you were on board. Tell me what you're feeling? Just between you and me."
"Look...I'm only here for the weekend, so why don't you just leave me alone until I leave, then you're free to do whatever you want with my Mother," she said.
"And when you're gone, you'll forget all about us, right?" I asked. "Lizzie, you're only hurting yourself, and your Mother. I'm giving you the chance to get it out. Go ahead. Yell at me. Curse me out. I know you're upset about this." I paused for a minute to let her think. "Or, you can just sit there for two days and stew. I can't make you talk to me. It's your choice."
I started to stand.
"You really care what I think?" she said quietly.
"A few weeks ago...the answer would be no. I don't know you, so your opinion is like an asshole...everyone's got one," I smiled. She snorted. "Now? Yes I do care, mostly because I love your Mother, and despite her words, she cares too. I'm not planning to go anywhere, so we're probably going to have to be in the same room a few times in the next forty years. Maybe we should try to make that as painless as possible."
"Thank you for being honest enough to tell me you don't...or didn't...give a shit what I thought," she smiled. It was a nice smile. She was a very pretty girl, a younger version of her Mother, in nearly every way. Too pretty to be the scowling bitch she had been since her arrival. "You seem to be getting along with Clay."
"Yes. Does that surprise you?"
"No, not really. My brother doesn't care how things look to the rest of the world." I shook my head, disappointed.
"Really? That's your concern...how this looks to everyone else?" I asked incredulously. "Did you care about appearances when your Father cheated on your Mother, and ran off with a girl not much older than you?"
"First of all...okay, my Father's an asshole. What he did was wrong. I haven't spoken to him since then, and I'll never forgive him for what her did to our family," she snarled, an angry glare in her eyes. "But that doesn't make this right. As they say, two wrongs..." she said, letting me finish the clich__.
"... Don't make a right. Tell me. Who is your Mother cheating on? The divorce is long since final. Is she not allowed to move on with her life?"
I noticed that her responses were coming faster. She was spending less time considering her words, which meant her true emotions were showing through. Good. Now we're getting somewhere. When she snapped back this time, her voice had an edge, and increased in volume.
"I didn't say that! Of course she's allowed to continue, and of course I want her to be happy! But..." she paused.
"... Why do I have to be so young?" I finished.
"Yes!" she gasped. "Exactly! It's ridiculous! It makes her look desperate!"
"You've met your Mother, right? Do you think she cares about how it looks?" You should have seen the bikini she wore in Vegas, I thought.
"The Mother I knew was very concerned how things looked. She would never do something that...my... Oh..." she trailed off, realizing what she was saying.
"I'm sorry. I didn't hear that. You were saying?" I prompted. It was better if she said it.
"I, um, I think I've been forgetting something," she said sheepishly.