Chương 10
Rosalie snorted.
Alessandro stared at both of them.
“I am surrounded by traitors.”
Livia’s grin lasted less than a second, but it was there.
He ended the call.
Rosalie set the scissors down.
“Okay.”
Livia’s expression changed.
“Okay what?”
“Okay, I have reached the point where further confidence would become negligence.”
She tilted the hand mirror so Livia could see the back.
“It’s not perfect.”
Livia turned her head slowly.
The hair now ended around her jaw and neck in an uneven dark bob.
One side was slightly shorter because Bianca’s original cut had gone too high.
Rosalie had softened the difference rather than chasing it upward.
Livia touched the ends.
Her fingers moved carefully, almost suspiciously.
Alessandro watched her face.
“Well?”
Rosalie asked.
Livia turned left.
Then right.
She pushed a section behind one ear.
“I look different.”
“Yes.”
“Do I look bad?”
Rosalie answered first.
“No.”
Alessandro answered half a beat later.
“No.”
Livia looked at him through the mirror.
“You waited.”
“I was looking.”
“At what?”
“At you.”
She frowned.
“That’s not an answer.”
He sat down on the carpet behind her.
“It is, actually.”
Livia turned.
He folded his legs awkwardly beneath his suit trousers.
“I think you look like you.”
“With short hair.”
“With short hair.”
She studied him.
“Do I look like Mommy?”
His face changed.
Rosalie looked down at the scissors.
Alessandro took his time.
“Sometimes.”
“When?”
“Your eyes when you’re annoyed.”
Livia blinked.
“Mommy looked annoyed?”
“Frequently.”
“At you?”
“Frequently.”
Rosalie smiled into her hand.
Alessandro continued.
“You have her smile when you’re trying not to laugh.”
Livia touched the edge of the towel.
“And my hair?”
He looked at the short dark strands around her face.
“Your hair is yours.”
She stayed quiet.
Then she nodded.
“That’s good.”
Rosalie gathered the cut hair from the towel.
“Do you want to keep this too?”
Livia considered it.
“No.”
Rosalie’s hand stopped.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“The first one I want.”
“The lock from downstairs?”
Livia nodded.
“This one was my choice.”
Rosalie looked at Alessandro.
He looked away first.
“All right,” she said.
She carried the towel toward the bathroom trash.
Livia called after her.
“Wait.”
Rosalie stopped.
“Maybe one little piece.”
She returned.
Livia selected a thin strand from the pile and wrapped it around two fingers.
“That’s enough.”
Rosalie discarded the rest.
Alessandro’s phone chimed again.
This time it was a message.
He read it and stood.
“Marcy says the ballroom is full.”
Livia looked at the door.
“Do you have to go?”
“Yes.”
Her shoulders lowered.
He put the phone away.
“But I can stay five more minutes.”
“You said ten before.”
“I did.”
“It’s probably been more than ten.”
“Probably.”
“Then everybody is waiting.”
He smiled faintly.
“They can wait.”
Livia looked unconvinced.
“You hate when people are late.”
“I hate when other people are late.”
“That’s hypocritical.”
Alessandro stared at her.
Rosalie emerged from the bathroom.
“She learned that word from me.”
“I assumed.”
Livia picked at a loose thread on the towel.
“Are you going to tell them why?”
Alessandro’s smile disappeared.
“Not everything.”
“Are you going to say Bianca cut my hair?”
He hesitated.
Livia saw it.
“Don’t.”
He sat beside her again.
“You don’t want them to know?”
“They’ll stare at me.”
The certainty in her voice made him uncomfortable.
“You don’t have to go downstairs.”
“I know.”
“They may still find out.”
“I know.”
“People talk.”
“Grandma talks.”
“Especially Grandma.”
Livia rubbed the strand of hair between her fingers.
“I don’t want pictures.”
“Of you?”
“Of my hair.”
He nodded slowly.
“I can ask people not to take any.”
“They might anyway.”
“Yes.”
He disliked admitting it.
Livia noticed that too.
“You can’t control everyone.”
“No.”
She looked down at the strand.
“Bianca tried.”
Alessandro went still.
Rosalie sat on the armchair near the window.
Livia continued.
“She always told everyone what to wear.”
“For the wedding?”
“For everything.”
“What do you mean?”
“She said my yellow sweater looked messy.”
Alessandro frowned.
“When?”
“At Christmas.”
Rosalie looked at him.
Livia continued before he could ask another question.
“And she threw away my purple shoes.”
“Those were too small.”
“No.”
“They weren’t?”
“They pinched a little.”
“That usually means too small.”
Livia sighed at him.
“But she said they were ugly.”
He looked at Rosalie.
She gave a small helpless shrug.
“I wasn’t there.”
Livia tucked the strand into the pocket of her dress.
“She said I should wear pretty things when people came over.”
Alessandro’s brow tightened.
“Did she say that a lot?”
Livia shrugged.
He caught himself before asking again.
“You don’t have to answer.”
“I know.”
Rosalie watched him.
That was new.
Livia rubbed her bare knee through the pink dress.
“She wasn’t always mean.”
“No.”
Alessandro’s voice softened.
“I know.”
“She made good pancakes.”
“She did.”
“She let me put too many chocolate chips.”
“An irresponsible number.”
Livia almost smiled.
“And she sang bad in the car.”
“Very bad.”
“She thought she was good.”
“Tragically.”
Livia’s face folded for a second.
Not into tears exactly.
Into confusion.
“I liked her sometimes.”
Alessandro reached toward her hand.
This time, she let him take it.
“You’re allowed to.”
“Even now?”
“Yes.”
“What if I’m mad?”
“You can be both.”
She stared at their joined hands.
“Are you?”
He knew what she meant.
“Yes.”
“Do you still like her?”
Rosalie looked toward the window.
Alessandro rubbed his thumb across Livia’s knuckles.
“I care about her.”
“That’s not the same.”
“No.”
“Do you love her?”
His breath caught.
Children had a talent for walking straight through the doors adults spent years building around themselves.
“I don’t know what I feel today.”
Livia considered that.
“At least you didn’t lie.”
He looked at her.
“No.”
The room stayed quiet for a moment.
Outside the window, traffic moved along the avenue far below.
May you like
A delivery truck stopped badly at the curb and forced a taxi to swing around it.
Someone on the sidewalk lifted both arms in irritation.
