Chapter 155: Brittney’s Story - 1

Almost immediately, the door swung open, and Aria found herself standing before a Brittney whose face practically screamed that she knew exactly why Aria was there and couldn’t care less.

Aria didn’t say a word. She simply walked past her and entered the room. Her eyes wandered toward the bed, where an already opened bag of chips sat beside a few crumbs scattered across the sheets. Apparently, someone had decided to eat her feelings.

"Want a bite?" Brittney asked, closing the door behind her.

"Sure," Aria answered. If there was one thing she knew about Brittney, it was that forcing her into a serious conversation immediately would only make her defensive. Sitting down and eating with her first might make whatever came next a little easier.

Brittney walked over to her luggage and crouched beside it. "All right, let’s see. I’ve got barbecue chips, sour cream and onion, cheese puffs, chocolate cookies, salted crackers, gummy bears, and..." She dug deeper before triumphantly pulling out another packet. "Spicy nachos. Pick your poison."

Although Aria already knew Brittney had brought snacks with her, the sheer number of options still caught her by surprise.

"Jeez, Brittney. Did you pack clothes in there at all, or did you use your entire luggage allowance to smuggle in a convenience store?"

"Priorities, babe." Brittney didn’t sound remotely ashamed. "Now choose before I change my mind."

"Spicy nachos."

Brittney’s brows rose in approval. "Excellent choice. I knew there was a reason I liked you."

She pulled out the packet and walked over to the bed before plopping down on it, scooting backward until her back rested against the wall.

Aria joined her, settling beside her before Brittney handed over the packet. She tore it open and shoved the first mouthful into her mouth, the loud crunch filling the room as Brittney reached for the other chip she picked for herself.

"I’m sure you’re curious about the story," Brittney said suddenly.

"Ah, no." Aria reached for another nacho. "I came here to reconcile you and Trisha. You two are practically cat and dog at this point."

"Just say it, Aria. You want the story." Brittney rolled her eyes as she tossed another chip into her mouth. "You’ve probably been dying to ask since Trisha made that comment."

Aria chewed slowly, determined not to give her the satisfaction, but Brittney continued staring at her with that irritatingly knowing look.

"Fine," Aria finally gave in. "I want the story."

Brittney was quiet for a while, absently digging through the bag of chips before finally speaking. "Well, it’s basically the same storyline as every other broken home. My father divorced my mother and married her best friend."

Aria stopped chewing. Of all the things she had expected, that hadn’t been one of them.

"He claimed my mother chose her career over him," Brittney continued, staring down at the chip between her fingers. "And the annoying part is that he wasn’t exactly wrong. All that matters to my mother is her work. Sometimes I can’t help but wonder if giving birth to me was another experiment for her. Something she wanted to experience once just to see how she’d look as a mother before going back to the life she actually cared about." She gave a humorless laugh. "Of course, none of that justified my father fucking her best friend while they were still married."

"I don’t think I’ve ever witnessed an easier divorce," Brittney went on. "My mother couldn’t have cared less that the marriage was over. There were no tears, no begging, no fighting to save anything. She signed whatever needed to be signed and went back to work like she’d canceled a subscription she no longer needed. My father, on the other hand, was more than delighted because he could finally be with the woman he’d apparently wanted all along."

Aria’s heart broke for her. It was strange to think that only minutes ago she had been crying over her own fear of being abandoned, yet Brittney had been carrying a different version of the same wound beneath all that humor. At this point, not knowing the identity of her own deadbeat father almost felt like a blessing. At least she didn’t have memories of watching him choose another woman and another life over her.

"My father became a completely different person the instant he married his second wife," Brittney continued. "If the whole mate thing existed for humans, I’d almost believe she was his. That’s how enamored he was with her. He worshipped the ground she walked on, and whatever she wanted, she got." Brittney finally ate the chip she’d been holding. "Unfortunately for me, the one thing she wanted most was for me not to be around."

Aria’s brows pulled together, but she remained silent and let her continue.

"To her, I was a reminder of my mother. Worse, I was something that would always tether my father to his first wife, no matter how completely she’d replaced her everywhere else. She wanted him all to herself, and apparently, having his daughter around ruined the perfect little life she’d imagined for them."

"That’s horrible," Aria couldn’t stop herself from saying.

Brittney shrugged, although there was nothing careless about the gesture. "Sadly for my father, getting rid of me wasn’t exactly an option either. The Thorne family wouldn’t permit it. I’m the only heir, remember? Whatever problems my parents had with each other, I still carried the family name, and that made me important enough that he couldn’t simply ship me off somewhere and pretend I didn’t exist."

"So he was stuck with you," Aria said quietly.

"Exactly." Brittney reached into the bag again. "He was stuck with the daughter his new wife didn’t want, while I was stuck in a house where everyone made it perfectly clear I was the extra workload nobody had asked for." Her lips curved into the smallest smile, but Aria could see now that humor was simply the easiest way Brittney knew how to talk about things that still hurt. "And I think you can already guess how I turned out."

Aria looked at her for a long moment. "Loud, inappropriate, incapable of keeping your mouth shut, and apparently carrying enough snacks to survive an apocalypse?"

Brittney smiled at that, but the amusement vanished almost as quickly as it appeared.

"Vengeful, cruel, and rebellious. I just wanted to hurt them all. To make them feel even a fraction of what they’d made me feel."