Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
“No.” From my right I could sense Maren’s unease with my failure to make conversation, so I tried to think of something else to say but couldn’t.
My appetite wasn’t good, so when the food came I took a few bites, but mostly just pushed it around on my plate.
“Do you not like the lamb?” Maren asked quietly. “I can share my gnocchi with you if you’d like.”
“No, thanks. The lamb is good. I guess I’m just not that hungry.”
“Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m fine.” I tried to give her a reassuring smile.
Everyone else at the table chatted easily, and it was obvious the three sisters were very close. They teased each other without being mean, and were quick to praise one another’s talents and accomplishments. Stella spoke glowingly of Emme’s knack for taking an empty space and turning it into a bride’s dream come true, even on a budget, and Maren blushed when Emme complimented her volunteer efforts at schools in underserved communities in rural areas. “Those kids would never have the opportunity to take a yoga class at a studio,” she said. “And did she tell you about how she got one company to donate mats to a women’s shelter?”
“No.” I looked at Maren, whose cheeks grew even pinker.
“She did. And then she went there and taught classes for free, not just yoga but mindfulness and meditation and—what was the other one, Mare?”
“Affirmations.”
“Oh, right.” Emme laughed. “I still remember my affirmation from when you dragged me to that class.” She sat up taller and recited it proudly. “I am deserving of a supportive, loving, awesome relationship.”
“And see? It worked.” Maren gestured at Emme and Nate. “Once you said it enough, it created the right kind of energy for the relationship to happen.”
“The right person helped, too,” Emme said, patting Nate on the arm.
The right person. I looked at the other guys at the table—a college professor and an attorney, neither of whom, presumably, had a brain tumor or a gigantic secret he was keeping from the woman next to him—and felt like a fucking disaster. These were good guys. They had everything to offer. They’d done everything right. They were smart and honest and played by the rules, and life had rewarded them for it.
Why can’t you be more like your brother? my parents used to ask me. I’d hated it. I didn’t know why I couldn’t be more like him. I just wasn’t. But sitting there at that table, I wished more than anything I had been.
Maybe then I wouldn’t be stuck in this lie, stuck in this impossible situation where I had to either forfeit the love of my life or drag her down a dark, miserable road.
I looked over at her, and she smiled at me. She was so beautiful it hurt. So good to people around her. So loyal to everyone she loved. If I didn’t set her free, she’d waste all her time trying to take care of me.
I wasn’t worth it.
Fourteen
Maren
“He’s really cute, Maren,” Stella said to me in the restaurant bathroom where the three of us stood in front of the mirror. “But he’s so quiet. Not at all what I was imagining.”
“Same,” said Emme, pulling the cap off her red lipstick. “I thought he was more outgoing.”
“He normally is.” I shook my head. “I don’t know what’s going on with him. He’s not acting like himself at all.”
“Maybe he doesn’t feel good,” Stella suggested, fussing with her hair. “Does he have a headache today?”
“He did this morning. Maybe that’s it.” My eyes filled with tears. “But there’s something he’s not telling me, you guys. I can feel it.”
“Like what?” Stella turned to me, concern in her eyes.
“I don’t know.” I took a shaky breath. “But I think it might be what you said—epilepsy.”
She blinked. “Really?”
“I mean, I’m not sure, but I looked up some of the symptoms online, and—”
Stella groaned. “Don’t do that. The Internet is a cesspool of misinformation.”
“I’d have done the same thing,” said Emme, putting her lipstick in her purse. “Can you ask him directly?”
I bit my lip. “I could, but I don’t want to. I want him to tell me. I want him to trust me.”
“Trust takes time,” said Stella, squeezing my shoulder. “It’s only been a couple days.”
“I know, but we have history. It doesn’t feel like it’s only been two days.”
“Well, then ask him, if it will make you feel better.” Stella shrugged. “What’s the worst that can happen?”
“Would it bother you if it were true?” Emme asked.
“No! Not at all.” I shook my head. “I’m only bothered by the thought that he feels like he can’t tell me.”
“I get it.” Emme gave me a sympathetic look.
“We should get back to the table,” Stella said. “Are you okay?”
I took a deep breath, and then another. “Yes. Maybe I’m imagining this whole thing. He could just have a headache or be thinking about seeing his brother. That relationship is complicated.”