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“She died this morning. They found her body lifeless at the Chateau. So, now, they will bring her home from France, and we will throw her in the ground and dance on her grave.”
“Alex, ugh,” I groaned. “Is thatnecessary?”
“She tortured us. I can dance.” Alexandra turned to Manon. “Can Mama not dance? Do you want to dance?”
The child squealed, grabbing her nose.
I didn’t want to begleeful, but the relief of Celeste going took over. She wasgone. I was truly free to never think of her again! She’d been elderly and frail since Alexandra expelled her to France but never truly gone. We occasionally entertained her to keep up the “happy family” aspects. And despite Astrid’s hatred, she was allowed to attend the wedding. It was the last we saw of her.
“So, come on. I want to celebrate!”
“Alex—”
“I am serious. We are living—thriving—and we have a celebration of death to plan. Astrid is on her way.”
“Ingrid is at a competition,” I said. “Can she stay? She has the Kentucky Three-Day?—”
“I know. She will probably have to miss it. This is a state funeral. We must look like we care.”
“Youdocare—just in all the wrong ways, sister.”
“My love, the champagne has arrived.” Rick approached with champagne flutes.
“Oh, yay!”
“Alex, it is eleven AM, and you’re drinking?”
“This is a momentous occasion, kid,” Rick said. “Come on. To the family room! Let us drink and be merry.”
“I’d rather not,” I said.
“Okay, enough with the self-pity fest,” Alexandra said.
“I’m not.”
“You are.” She handed the baby off to Rick. “Wyatt is back in town. I told her to text him and see if he wanted to talk.”
“It’s been more than six months since we talked in person,” I said. “He probably doesn’t think about me anymore.”
“Oh, please,” Rick said. “He probably still misses you. If you want to reach out?—”
“Exes are exes for a reason,” I said.
“Not if you’re miserable,” Alexandra said.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re exhausted from working too much and could use a little fun.”
“He misses you,” Rick said. “When I spoke to him yesterday, he asked about you. If you don’t miss someone, you don’t ask.”
Rick attended a transportation event with the Prime Minister and Alexandra. That is what prompted my yearning to reach out. I still loved him. Much as I wished to deny my feelings, I still loved Wyatt Worthington. Since Wyatt left, I’d set my advocacy work aside, and no more had been done on pedestrian safety. I knew I needed to go to the board again and demand a thorough investigation, but I had little hope of doing that without Wyatt’s vote.
“He was looking forward to seeing you at the ribbon cutting,” Alexandra added. “I swear he was.”
Secretly, I’d hoped to arrive looking so hot it would give me an in to speak to him. I’d tortured myself over it.
“Well, that’s done now. We’re in mourning,” I said. “Game over.”