Mrs.Pine stands there staring at Mother, her lip between her teeth. After a moment, she bobs her head, blowing out a long, forceful breath. “You were between a rock and a terribly hard place. Catherine reminded me the other day that while it was awful when it happened, I have gone on to a beautiful life.”
“Can you forgive me for it?” Mother whispers. “I know I can’t ever change it, but I am sorry. I am so very, very sorry. I wanted to tell you, Ishouldhave told you.”
“I can try,” Mrs.Pine whispers.
They stand still for a moment before Mother moves forward, wrapping her arms around Mrs.Pine with a sob. Slowly, Mrs.Pine hugs her back.
Rosalie lists into Catherine, heart in her throat. Catherinereleases her hand to wrap her arm around Rosalie, holding tight and sniffling.
They did this. They made this happen.
It’s a strangely wonderful feeling, watching her mother hug her oldest friend. She deserves forgiveness, and happiness, and friendship. Rosalie’s not sure she’s ever seen the broken-open, carefree smile on her mother’s face now as she pulls back, holding Mrs.Pine’s forearms.
“You know an excellent way to celebrate this rekindled friendship? We should track down Captain Daniels, see where he ended up, and ruin him,” Aunt Genevieve says.
They all burst out laughing, the lingering tension evaporating around them.
“It has been a while since we’ve been on a trip,” Mother says to Aunt Genevieve.
“I hope he didn’t hurt you,” Mrs.Pine adds, looking to Aunt Genevieve.
“Only my heart. He was—” She glances at Rosalie and Catherine, still standing with their arms around each other, Rosalie’s head on Catherine’s shoulder.
Their mothers slowly turn to look at them as well, and that elated, carefree air seems to disappear all at once.
They can’t—they can’t know. Not just from this. They were hugging not moments ago. It’s not—they can’t—
“Iknewit,” Aunt Genevieve says softly.
Oh, God.
Catherine’s grip on her shoulder tightens and Rosalie can feel her own hand fisting into the back of Catherine’s shift. Because she’s still just in her undergarments, which rather changes the image, doesn’t it?
Rosalie knows they should pull away from each other, butshe can’t let go of Catherine, can’t make herself step away. They weren’t planning on doing this now. Today was always supposed to be about their mothers, and hopefully dispatching Mr. Dean. But not this.
Not telling them they’re...
“Knew what, exactly?” Mother asks, looking to Aunt Genevieve.
Rosalie meets Aunt Genevieve’s eyes. Fragile hope rises in her chest that maybe Aunt Genevieve knows what to do, how to say it. That she has the magic fix somewhere within, just like when she tells a well-timed joke to break the tension.
“Tell her,” Aunt Genevieve says instead.
Rosalie tries to swallow, but her mouth has gone suddenly dry. She meets Mother’s eyes but can’t summon the words. She wants to, but—
“Neither of us wants to marry Mr.Dean, and not because he’s boring. Well, not just because he’s boring,” Catherine says, her voice rough but strong.
Aunt Genevieve snorts and Mother’s lips twitch. Mrs.Pine’s still staring at them, wide-eyed. Rosalie squeezes Catherine’s waist.
“We don’t want to marry him because we’ve fallen for each other instead.” Catherine says it so simply. So firmly. So beautifully.
“You’ve—” Mother starts.
“You don’t want to marry Mr.Dean,” Mrs.Pine repeats slowly.
Catherine takes a deep breath. “I want to be with Rosalie.”
Rosalie tugs Catherine a little closer, a strange relief flooding through her chest, even with Mother staring at her like she’s gone mad. Some last small part of her heart slips back into place.Catherine isn’t Jane. Catherine is like no one she’s ever known before. She’s standing here with Rosalie, brave and strong and real.
