my youngest is stil ill, but he's eating more and has even fought with his brother. which is a good sign. I was always worried my oldest would hurt my youngest, but it's the other way around with us. My youngest is evil lol. Thank you for all the kind reviews! I didn't expect to have any this soon. I really appreciate you taking the time to write one. and they're all very nice! I am so blessed to have such a nice group of people reading my stories. I'll post a picture of Ripley and Cas, btw. for those curious what my inspo was
Cas’ pov.Being with Ripley, if only for a day, a day filled with tears and worry, had been better than most of my days. And it wasn’t just because we had sex, albeit brief. It had been nice to feel needed and helpful. I was aware the only reason Ripley had called was because she knew I had the money and resources she needed to find the girls. I know I have no right to complain about my life. There are people who are starving, and I have several homes and a whole fucking list of people to cater to my every demand. But it isn’t easy to trust people when I know most of them just want my money. And I wish Ripley needed me for more. When I first started to work, I tried my best to be helpful and to support charities. Not just because it makes me look good to the public, but because I have more money than I can spend. It’s not fair that some have nothing. I work fucking hard for my money. I work 80 hours a week sometimes, but so do a lot of people who make a whole lot less money.Ripl
Ripley’s pov It was clear I made a mistake by coming here. Cas did not seem happy to see us at all. Or maybe just me, because he was being really nice to my girls. When he pointed to the cameras, I assumed he was embarrassed that I was here. In all the time I had known Cas, I had never felt like he was embarrassed to be seen with me. Even if at times I felt out of place, he didn’t seem to care. His attention had always been solely on me, but now his eyes kept shifting to the cameras and the guests. He seemed agitated and it was because of me.There were a lot more guests than Edward had made me believe there would be. He had lied to me.I would have declined, knowing the magnitude of this party. This was going to be a lot for the girls and for me. Maybe I was projecting my discomfort onto Cas. Because I had never felt like I belonged anywhere less than I do right now. Whenever I was at a party and felt awkward, I always used my girls to coward behind. I focused on them or left ear
Cas’ pov The fucking audacity of my parents to invite Ripley after I explicitly told them not to. It was my only fucking rule! I couldn’t stay pissed, not when River and Rose were staring at me. There was no way I could take out my anger at them, so for them, I had to be better. I had to hold it back. Not just for them, but for Ripley as well. If I lost my shit on camera, it wouldn’t just be bad for me; it would be bad for her. They might assume Ripley meant more to me or that my anger was directed at her. Either wouldn't be great, because it meant the media would start showing more interest in Ripley and her family. To the public eye, she was just an employee I had helped, nothing more or less. Maybe if I was nice to the girls and let Ripley hang around us, they wouldn’t ask any questions. They wouldn’t see she meant more to me than anyone here at the party. Because it's not just the media I am worried about. The people here are like fucking vultures. They will use anything an
Ripley’s pov Great. Now I went from feeling out of place and having everyone stare at me because I didn’t belong at their stupid fancy charity party to everyone looking at me because I was seriously overdressed for an indoor playground. Thankfully, I always put shorts and a tank top underneath the girls’ dresses. I learned the hard way when River decided to ditch her underwear and hang upside down on a monkey bar during a party and exposed her entire butt to everyone there. Now they always have cotton shorts underneath. I wear them myself too sometimes, because it keeps my legs from rubbing against each other. There are probably maybe six people in the world who have that stupid thigh gap, but I am not one of them. My legs touch when I walk. The moms staring at me were an improvement over the rich people, though. They just thought I was crazy for coming here in full face of makeup and dressed up. But what else could I do? Go home and cry? Admit in front of my girls that Cas’ par
Cas’ pov The next week was hell. Kennedy and my parents had done something so low and horrible that I would never be able to forgive them. But I still had to play along with this fucking puppet show. It wasn’t that they tried to hurt me; I am used to that. It was that they tried to hurt Ripley. And I know I’m a fucking hypocrite, because just a few weeks ago, it was my plan to ruin her life. Is that what happens when you have too much money to spend? Do you just stop caring about other people and see them as pawns to play with and do with as you please? Is everything just a silly game to them? Just as long as they keep getting their money, because that’s all they give a damn about. Did meeting Ripley change me that much? I had always felt I was different from my parents and tried to do things differently, but somehow along the way I had begun using the same tactics they used to get my way. I justified it by thinking that at least I was going to do something right. That I’d be b
Ripley’s pov Staring at Cas with my girls while the sun was shining on my face was a nice break from reality. And my reality stucks right now. Every day, there was another story about me on the news. There were people following me, calling me, asking me for interviews, and some family members that I hadn’t talked to in years were suddenly reaching out. Today had been a way to give myself and the girls a break from everything, yet somehow I ran into the person responsible for it all. No. I told myself. It wasn’t Cas. There were plenty of things I could be angry at Cas about, but this situation I was in now was not one of them. He had no part in this media circus I was in. And he had helped me find the girls, which I would be grateful for as long as I lived. I kept my distance from the three of them. Seeing Cas and Kennedy on TV had been hard enough. He was getting married, and I was not a part of his life. He had proven that when he had not reached out once after that horrible p
Cas’ pov “Let’s talk.” Kennedy said when I entered my house. Our house? No, fuck no. That didn’t sound right. But she had done some serious remodeling, making the house look nothing like it used to. “Talk about what?” I replied, already annoyed with this entire conversation. Kennedy handed me a thick folder. “This is a new prenup I want you to sign.” “Shouldn’t I be the one handing out prenups, since I’m the one that has all the money?” I scoffed. Kennedy smirked at me, “normally. Yes. But I’ve noticed you’ve been absent lately. You're not yourself. You’re distracted, and I want to get everything out of this marriage I can possibly get.” “Why the fuck would I sign this?” I skimmed through the pages. “Because if you sign it and hold up your end of the bargain, you come out better than if you don’t.” Kennedy replied. “Why? What’s the fucking point?” Kennedy sighed and plopped her ass on that ridiculously ugly couch she bought. “I am not expecting you to fall in love with me. Bu
Cas’ pov That night, my father took me out for drinks. But it was a surprise bachelor party at some high-end strip club. I sat there, looking at women dance, not bothering to engage. I drank way too much, hoping to drown out this feeling of vulnerability. Of not feeling worthy of, I don’t fucking know. All I know is that it felt wrong. Everything about the situation I am in feels wrong. This world I’m in doesn’t feel like mine anymore. The people who surround me feel fake and annoy me. And even the women that hit on me weren’t interesting to me. I handed them money and told them to bother someone else, not feeling in the mood for a lap dance. Dad called me out for being in a mood, but I didn't fucking care what he thought. I didn't even want to come here. I never asked for a damn bachelor party to begin with, and I didn't give a fuck about any of the people here. I sat at the bar, drinking glass after glass of the most expensive wiskey, eventually just asking for the bottle to