Chapter 147 A week without him
Serena’s POV
If I was told I could go a day in this world without being noticed, I wouldn't believe it.
Guess what? I just did about 7 days of that.
It had been just about a week since that fight in the living room.
Seven days of silence that felt louder than any quarrel. No guns, no running, no fighting, no casualties, no word to me.
Dante hadn’t raised his voice again in my direction, even just a whisper.
He hadn’t slammed any doors, he just… disappeared into his work.
He was mainly on phone calls till dawn, attending meetings that ran past midnight.
Our only interactions? Maybe quick glances and hi’s in the hallway.
Maybe a subtle wave before he left for the office or the warehouse or wherever he went these days. He was always moving, always busy, always somewhere else.
I hated it.
I stood in front of the mirror in my room, brushing my hair slowly. The reflection looking back at me had dark circles under her eyes and a mouth that kept trying to smile but couldn’t quite make it.
I pulled my hair into a loose ponytail, letting it fall again before trying again. Just doing anything to keep my hands busy.
I sighed, setting the brush down, and pulling on one of the shirts I found in the drawer over my head and leggings.
It had the same scent as most of the other clothes in there, something I had strangely grown fond of.
I wrapped my arms around myself for a second, then let go. There was no point clinging to a thought.
I did a few other things I normally did when preparing myself for a day, splashed a few sprays and stepped out.
I paused outside, staring at his room door and wondering for a split second if he could be in there.
I battled the thought for a while before finally pushing myself past. Whenever he wanted to talk to me, he would.
As I stepped down to the ground floor of the house, it was quiet, way too quiet.
I had the intention of getting myself a glass of water, but as I passed by the living room, I heard a low murmur coming from the living room.
A murmur that sounded so much like his. I couldn't resist, so I walked slowly towards the sound.
I spotted Dante sitting alone on the big leather couch with his laptop balanced on his knees.
His head remained down while his fingers tapped the keys repeatedly with few pauses in-between.
The screen light made his face look sharper, pointing out all the tired lines that had formed over his face.
Whatever was keeping him busy really got a toll on him.
For one, his beard had grown more than he usually kept it, and his hair was messy, like he’d run his hands through it too many times.
I stopped in the doorway, but he didn’t look up.
So I gulped, taking a full step inside, then another.
“Dante?” I called out and his fingers paused.
He glanced up quickly, almost like he was programmed as he flashed back down to the screen.
“Hey,” he said in a flat voice.
I shifted my weight between my feet. “Mind if I sit?”
He nodded once without looking up. “Go ahead.”
I walked over and sat on the other end of the couch, keeping a good distance between us.
I pulled my knees up, hugging them to my chest as none of us said a word next, letting the silence stretch.
I opened my mouth, then closed it, then opened it again.
“I’m sorry,” I started quietly. “For the other day, I shouldn’t have yelled like that. I was scared, and angry, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
He kept typing for a few more seconds, then his fingers slowed to a stop.
“It’s fine,” he said, still looking at the screen.
“It’s not fine,” I whispered. “I know you’re doing everything you can. I just… I miss her, and I miss you too. You’ve been gone all week.”
He finally looked at me, like really turned to me and I looked back into his tired eyes.
“I’m right here,” he muttered before going back to what he was doing.
“You’re not,” I said softly. “You’re in that office, or on the phone, or in your head. I get it, I do, but it feels like you’re avoiding me.”
He closed his eyes for a second, then rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I’m not avoiding you. I’m trying to get everything in place before a week, while trying to keep everything else from collapsing,” he replied.
“I know. I’m sorry,” I apologized again.
Then he exhaled deeply. “It’s okay,” he replied.
I waited, but he didn’t say anything else, he just turned away and looked back at the laptop.
“How’s the ball preparations going?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
He shrugged. “It’s going smoothly I guess. The invitations are out, the security systems have been locked down, and the catering’s set. Same as every year,” he replied without necessarily looking up.
I nodded. “Sounds… big.”
“It is,” he replied.
There was another long silence.
And I chewed the inside of my cheek to keep me busy.
“Dante… about the ball…”
He didn’t look up. “What about it?”
I swallowed. “I still don’t think it’s a good idea, like not right now. My mom’s still out there, the issues are still laying around. Everything’s falling apart slowly, a party feels like pretending none of it’s happening,” I said weakly, hoping he won't flip out.
His fingers paused on the keys. “We’ve been over this,” he said flatly.
“I know, but I can’t stop thinking about it. How can you stand there in a tux smiling at people when we don’t even know if she’s alive?”
His jaw tightened. “You think I want to? You think I’m happy about any of this?” He asked with his voice raising slightly.
“I don’t know what you feel anymore,” I said quietly. “You barely talk to me.”
He kept typing on the laptop for a few minutes before pausing and looking at me sharply.
“Now, look here, I’m trying to hold everything together,” he began. “The ball isn’t optional, it’s not just some party. It’s a signal, if I cancel it, every family in this city thinks we’re weak. I can’t let that happen.”
“But my mom—”
“I’m looking for her,” he cut in. “Every day, every hour. I’ve got people on every lead, I haven’t stopped,” he said sharply.
“Then why does it feel like you have?” My voice cracked on the last word.
Then he rubbed his face hard. “Cause I’m tired, Serena. I’m tired and I’m angry and I’m trying not to take it out on you. But I can’t stop the world for one person, even if that person is your mom,” he finally said.
And I stared at him, feeling his words hurt more than he probably meant them to.
And he stared back with neither of saying a word.
Then I leaned forward with my hands raised. “I don’t want to fight again,” I muttered.
“Then don’t,” he said quietly. “Just… trust me. For two more weeks, please.”
I looked down at my hands, and they were shaking. “I’m trying,” I whispered. “But the thought of her dying scares me,” I added without looking up at him.
He didn't say a word and minutes passed by like that. Just when I thought he had ignored me and gone back to typing.
I lifted my head as he shut the laptop suddenly and looked up fully at me.
“You wanna know why I must hold the ball? Okay, I'll tell you.”