The bright lilt of my sister’s voice pulls me from the deep darkness of sleep.
I jerk up to an unfamiliar room that gradually morphs into my own. Oh, that’s right. Brandon and I came home, and based on that orange glow of sunlight on the floor, I must have slept until the afternoon.
Shaking off the remnants of sleep, I pad out of my room, the murmur of voices growing louder as I near the living room.
“Do you think heels would be too much?” Sofia asks, excitement bubbling in her voice.
I pause in the hallway, leaning against the wall and trying to stay out of sight. Sofia stands in a tight emerald dress that clings to her every curve. Danielle sits on the couch, her eyes narrowed in assessment. “I would do strappy sandals. Let’s make him think this meetup is an afterthought.”
Sofia laughs again, and a chill runs down my spine. What the fuck is going on? Please say “him” doesn’t refer to who I think it does.
“Oh man, that dress, Sofi.” Danielle shakes her head slowly. “You have no idea.”
Sofia grins. “Really?”
“Yes!”
“You don’t think it’s too sexy?”
“No, I mean, it’s definitely modest. No cleavage is showing. But with the curves you’ve got, girl, you can’t help but look kind of sexy.”
They both break out into giggles, and I want to roll my eyes. Modest. One of the dumbest words in the evangelical vernacular, as if revealing certain body parts is inherently sinful.
“I shouldn’t be saying this, but…” Danielle giggles. “No, I’m not going to say it.”
“What?” Sofia’s grin grows.
“Okay, so I’m not saying you should lie, but I think you should make it sound like you just came from a date. With Pastor Brandon. You know it would drive him crazy.”
Sofi nods. “Maybe I’ll stop by New Morning before we hang out so it won’t be a lie. I’ve been meaning to…”
Sofi’s voice fades into the raging buzz in my ears. Holy fuck. This really is what I feared.
She’s meeting up with Finn.
I march forward, and both of their heads turn to me. “What’s going on?” I ask firmly.
Sofi’s smile fades. “Nothing that concerns you.”
“Are you meeting up with Finn?”
“I told you it’s none of your business.”
“Well, if you’re not going to tell me, maybe I should call up Mom. You usually tell her everything, so I assume—”
“Don’t you dare,” she says through clenched teeth.
When I continue to stare steadily at her, that outraged expression of hers falters. “Okay, yes. I’m meeting with Finn, but it’s not what it sounds like. Apparently, he’s had a big breakthrough recently in his counseling with his pastor, and he wants to apologize. He never really—”
“So he’s meeting you somewhere? Why can’t he just do it over the phone?”
She averts her gaze. “It’s a big apology. He thinks it needs to be in person.”
“I’m assuming his wife is coming since married Christian men don’t believe in meeting other women alone.”
Indignation flashes in Sofia’s eyes. “We’re meeting in public. His wife isn’t walking with the Lord right now, so it wouldn’t—”
When I burst into incredulous laughter, Sofia’s indignant expression shifts into what looks like rage, but I don’t care.
I’ve reached my limit with her obsession with Finn.
“You of all people should know that I believe in marriage above all,” she says, her voice quivering with anger. “I would never do anything to jeopardize what he has with his wife. No matter what he did to me.”
Even in my rage, my chest aches. She really believes from the bottom of her heart she would never do what he did to her.
“You’re making a mistake doing this,” I say softly.
Her nostrils flare. “We’ll have to agree to disagree.”
I grunt. “I guess we will.”
Dread clamps my chest. I never really thought my sister would have an affair with Finn, though everything seems to be pointing in that direction.
“You’re stressed,” Livvy says, her fingers momentarily freezing around the delicate dried flower she’s about to place into a small glass bottle.
A sigh escapes me as I halt my fingers, holding another wedding favor we’re crafting for her wedding, which is now less than two weeks away. I’m not as groggy as I was earlier, but I can’t keep my mind from wandering during the rote task.
Livvy can always sense my inner turmoil.
“I can’t help it. What do you think of this?” I ask as I lift a nearly finished favor, trying to redirect our attention back to the task.
She squints at it, her mind seeming elsewhere. “Pretty. But…what is it exactly? Are you worried Brandon’s going to be stubborn forever?”
I press another petite blossom into the glass enclosure. “He’s not going to change his mind, Livvy. He’s set on ending things between us.”
“Maybe for now.” Her gaze is fixed on the dried flower between her fingers. “But I don’t see how he could stay that way. Every time he’s around your dad, he’ll be reminded of you.”
I seal the bottle and set it next to the row of others we’ve completed. “I think it’s more than just my dad, to be honest. I don’t think he wants a partner who’s an atheist.”
Livvy sighs. “It doesn’t make sense, though. He’s so levelheaded. If I was able to accept Cole as an atheist, how can Brandon not accept you? You’re so wonderful.”
A smile rises to my lips even as coldness settles in my gut. “Thank you.”
A momentary silence fills the room, and a sluggish melancholy drifts over me, making my body heavy. I love him, but I’ll get over him. Daisy’s maternity leave will be over soon, and then I won’t have to be in his warm presence all the time.
Plus, I’ll start avoiding family gatherings.
The thought of that leaves a heavy loneliness in my gut.
“Mari…” Livvy’s voice cuts through my inner turmoil. “What if you told your dad about everything? Maybe… What if you got him on your side? You’re so logical and convincing when you’re sure of something, and your dad’s a lawyer. He’s more reasonable than most fundy Christians. Way more reasonable than my dad, for example. I think you could make him understand.”
“No,” I say immediately.
Her eyes widen. “Why not?”
I fix my eyes on my fingers as I put a tiny flower in a bottle, willing away the small flutter in my heart at the thought of being with Brandon long-term. “I don’t want to get Brandon that way. I want him to be willing to take a risk for me.”
Her eyes grow so sad that I have to look away. As much as I adore her quiet empathy, I can’t bear seeing my own heartbreak reflected in her.
I don’t want to taint tomorrow. If it’s the last few hours we’ll have together, I want to enjoy them.
I’ll deal with the heartache when it’s well and truly over.
