Chapter 7: Distance

“Let me help you up,” Julian said, reaching for my arm.

I pulled it back before his hand could close around it. “I’m fine.”

“You’re clearly not fine. You’re bleeding.”

“Marta’s already getting the kit.” I looked past him, toward the top of the stairs. “I don’t need your help.”

Marta returned a moment later with the first aid kit, and I let her clean the cut on my arm while Julian stood there watching. “I can carry you to your room. He said. “Your knee..”

“I can walk.”

I couldn’t, not easily, but I got up anyway, gripping the railing hard. Julian reached out again, and I stepped away from his hand before it landed.

“Francesca.”

“I’m fine, Julian.”

I made it up the remaining stairs on my own, even though I was slower.

I didn’t hear from Julian again until a few days passed. I was in the drawing room, sketching, when he appeared in the doorway.

“How’s your knee?” He asked.

“Healing.”

“Good.” He didn’t come in but he stood there for a moment, then left.

As the week went by, I stopped eating with Julian and Sophie altogether. I had every meal sent to my room instead. The first night, the maid looked so nervous delivering the tray to me.

“Is something wrong with the food.” She asked

“No, I just prefer to eat here.”

She nodded quickly and left. Julian noticed but he said nothing about it directly. Although I caught him one time asking Marta if I was going to join them for dinner.

That first night alone, lying in bed with the tray pushed aside, I found myself thinking about something I hadn’t thought about in years.

Sophie and I, maybe nine and eleven, sharing a room before Mother decided we were old enough to have our own.

She used to crawl into my bed when she had nightmares. She never told our parents. She told me instead, every time, like I was the only safe place in that house. “Don’t tell Mom,” she’d whisper. “She’ll say I’m too old for this.”

“I won’t.” I’d say

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

I never did tell. I used to think that meant something, that she trusted me with the parts of herself she hid from everyone else.

I wondered, lying there, what had changed between us, and why she was this way now. I didn’t have an answer. I turned off the lamp and tried to sleep instead.

The next morning, on my way to the kitchen, I heard raised voices near the dining room. It was Sophie and Julian’s mother, and from the way it sounded, it wasn’t a friendly chat.

“I didn’t waste months planning a wedding, just for my son to be humiliated in front of every family we know,” his mother was saying. “And then you come back from wherever you disappeared to, acting like nothing happened.

“I’ve apologized.” Sophie said. “What else do you want me to do.

“An apology doesn’t undo all the damage that was caused.” Mrs Windsor said.

“It wasn’t my fault entirely. If Francesca hadn’t…”

“Don’t. It’s quite convenient for you to blame everything on Francesca. Did she tie you up and prevent you from coming back?. Mrs Windsor asked.

Wow, finally someone in this house was beginning to reason. Sophie’s mouth opened and closed. It’s funny how she never has an explanation when confronted.

I quietly left before they’d notice me eavesdropping. That afternoon Sophie came to me in the drawing room. “Julian mentioned you’ve been keeping to yourself,” she said.

“I’ve been busy.” I said

“You know he’s only still married to you because divorcing you fast would look bad,” she said, unprovoked. “That’s it. That’s the whole reason you’re still here.”

“Okay.” I said.

“I mean it. You’re a placeholder. A name on a paper until the timing’s right.” She smiled. “It must be exhausting, knowing that.”

“You done?”

“I’m just being honest. Someone has to be.” She said

“Wow.” A voice from the doorway. Julian, arms crossed, watching her.

Sophie’s whole body went stiff. “Julian. I didn’t hear you.”

“Clearly.”

“I wasn’t what it sounded like.” She denied

“It sounded exactly like that.”

I sat back and watched her scramble, actually enjoying it a little, watching her mouth open and close without anything useful coming out.

“Julian, you know I would never…”

“I heard you,” he said flatly. He just looked at her and walked away without saying another word.

“Julian, wait.” Sophie hurried after him, pleading. “Julian, please let me explain.”

I sat there alone in the drawing room and laughed, actually laughed, the first real laugh I’d had in that house in weeks. I wonder what lie she’s going to cook up now.

That night, I sat at my desk finishing a bracelet sketch I’d been putting off for weeks. My knee had stopped aching, my hands were steady, and I felt so much better.

A knock interrupted my sketching. Marta came in looking uncomfortable. “Your mother called the main line.” She said. “She asked you to come home tonight if possible.”

“Did she say why?” I asked surprised

“Only that it was urgent family business.”

I wondered for a moment. My mom never called me. She hasn’t even called since the wedding. That was the last time I heard from her. So why is she calling me now?

“Does Sophie know she called? I thought to ask

“She was in the room when the call came. I believe she spoke to your mother first.”

Ahah there it was. “Thank you Marta, that’ll be all.

“Family business my foot.” I said laughing. From a family that hadn’t called me once since the wedding, to at least even check up their daughter.

If I’m guessing right, Sophie just wants the house to herself without me in it. And she thinks calling mother will force me to leave. You’re in for a surprise dear sister.