Chapter 14: The Reset

NOVA'S POV

Practice helped avoid the lump in my throat. One that sat there and didn't dare move after the words I uttered to her.

I asked to come to the locker room because I had a different truth to tell her. But instead I showed her exactly why I'm the asshole favourite to karma.

The players murmured after the game. The locker room wasn't instantly empty. This time they stayed longer. In the showers and the benches between lockers.

"Did you hear about the season's list of scouters?"

"I heard they're coming from different WNBAs world wide, courtesy of Delia's father," another player added.

"My dad said a film student will be filming the game to market us. I wonder who the student is, and they better get my good side," the dean's daughter said.

Only one person was had a camera in most of our practices.

Sofia.

"Hey Captain! I bet you don't have to worry about this, Delia is obsessed with,"

The teasing started and faded off the same way. Except my date was different.  It wouldn't be on the court.

It would be in a loveless arranged marriage set by my father.

My phone rang and I answered it on my way out of the noisy room.

"I want you at the family dinner. The investor's son will be joining,"

His tone hadn't changed over the years. Still demanding, still intimidating.

A notification popped up on the top of my screen.

SofiaP.V is following you on Instagram

A chuckle let out. Automatic and effortless.

I pressed on it on my way to the parking lot. Two thousand followers was an insult to her beauty. If I could I'd follow her a thousand times to double the numbers. Her posts were of her, bestfriends and faceless family dinners with the last side showing her outfit.

She was private on a public account.

Everyone had access but she controlled it.

Once in the car I scroll down her 13 posts, each one better than the last. There was a  landscape video though. If was a compilation of different videos of her on her birthdays and the different voices behind the camera suggested that they were her family.

Her laugh was effortless.

She looked happy.

Her latest post was from that Sunday. When I had to pick her up. The first slide she smiled, but it looked broken.

Half full.

Like something was missing.

The second one was a faceless video of her lap and a man driving.

The more I swiped the more I realised that maybe I knew nothing about her.

The third side was two cakes with her holding one and the same hands from the driving video holding the other one. Each one with the initial A.

The fourth one was her dancing awkwardly in her dress and the apron fully visible now.

Custom made from the writing on it.

Probably a family joke.

The last one was a short video of a familiar part of the cemetery. She recorded the flowers she had in her hands and her tear stained face. She had lost people in her lives?

She turns the camera to an older man walking in front of her also carrying flowers.

Finally, I read the caption,

​Two cakes for the girls who stayed seventeen, and a quiet prayer for the woman who kept us whole. I’m 'behaving' today, Mom—mostly because I have Dad making sure I don’t lose my rhythm. 17 + 17 + 1 = 2. We’re still holding the line.

A wave of guilt and regret surges through my body. If I hurt her she'd never forgive me. She's already lost the most important part of life, her mother and her siblings.

I drive to the house deciding to not go back to the apartment. How could I face her when I kissed her then called it a mistake? It never was.

It was the one right thing in my life.

I park my car and my driver gets in, to park it rightfully, in the garage.

"Nova, you’re here,"

Mom wraps me in a warm embrace that makes me wince. It was a front, a way to avoid her issues in her own marriage.

I wasn't perfect and her husband wasn't charming.

"Where's dad?"

"In his study. Don't ruin his day,"

Her voice is softer, but a clear warning.

She pays for his anger.

I settle in my room. One I hadn't been in since I left. When I came here after the missed calls, I thought he'd called to scold me.

But it was mom.

He'd shattered the glasses all over the floor with blood dripping from his left hand. Mom just stood there, startled by the sudden events.

I pitied her sometimes.

She gave up instead of fighting and he took that as his queue to disregard her.

Even then she lived in her delusions that he was doing what was best for everyone and I needed to be grateful.

I rolled over not done with her Instagram. Then I accidentally liked the post. I immediately unlike it but she'd gotten the notification.

A notification followed.

A text from her.

Tinks: That's my favourite post btw

Me: I didn't ask

Tinks: GIF

I chuckle at the response the same time my door swings open. Not knock, just a entitlement.

"Wipe that smug look on your face and start getting ready for the dinner,"

He barks.

"Yes sir," I say.

"You know, you left your mother all alone so you have no right to act all high and fucking mighty!"

His projection screamed miles away.

He did that. Not me.

"Ofcourse not, that's a spot no one can ever take from you," I retort.

His hand raises, but it never meets my face. Instead, he shoves the lamp next to my bed.

Then walks out.

Night came in fast with a dress laid out for me, for the night. A cream satin dress and my hair done in a bun by my mother.

"You look so beautiful Nova,"

" Just like you, mom,"

she smiles.

We join my father by the lobby as the Caruso family walks through the door. His wife clinging on his arm and his son in a tailored black suit.

Older than me from the research I subjected myself to.

"Shall we,"

Dad beams like he's always been like that. The pairs lead the way and he just stands there as if waiting for me to beg him.

"The seats aren't going to fill themselves, Prince charming,"

"You don't have to tolerate it.

I didn't ask for this either," he adds and he might be my favourite part of the night.

The parents talk over business and I focus on the course meal, occasionally asking Fabio, their son questions.

"Nova can you get the red wine from the cellar? We need to celebrate," my mother, who's next to me at the table asks and I get up from my seat,eager to wipe the fake smile off my face.

A staff member hands it to me. As if she was waiting for this moment and it was assigned to her.

I examined it as I walk back to the table.

Mom turns my phone so the screen is hidden.

She eyes me, her disappointment evident.

When the Carusos are ready to leave, dad insists on leading them out.

I check my phone to a flirty message from Sofia.

Fuck my life.

"Mom, it's not what you think. We're just friends. Please don't tell dad,"

My voice shaky. Not because it was a embarrassing dirty, secret. But because dad hasn't poked in my life for a while and I hadn't attempted to end my life since.

She shakes her head disapprovinglyly, walking away from the dining table.

I freshened up, paced my room, read a book, listened to meditation, but it still made me anxious.

The door opened and there he was. Hands deep in his pants pockets as he walked over to me.

"From today you live here. Your driver will drop you off at school and pick you up. Any detours to that apartment will be a serious consequence. That friend of yours, forget her. Stick to people of your status," he instructs.

I nodded, defeated.

I had gotten off easy.

He didn't scold or lose his temper.

"Nova, I'm sorry about earlier. I only want the best for you. I just want you to learn,"

He finalised his blow with a figurative bandaid.

I'd never get to have anything of my own, not in this lifetime anyway.

"Rafael said his dad is hosting a gala, you should attend. Keep the Castiello name dominating,"

And with that he left.

But something inside me told me that this was just the beginning.

He'd found a person to tame me with.