What was I supposed to say now?
Lying by omission was one thing. Answering a direct question with a lie—to my sisters—was not something I was willing to do.
“Both.” I covered my face for two seconds, then dragged my hands down and smiled helplessly at all of them. “Okay. I love you. Please don’t form a vengeance club on my porch.”
“Too late,” Piper bit out. “We meet on Tuesdays.”
I laughed, which was maybe the first time I’d truly felt relaxed all morning. The knot in my chest loosened another notch. I prepared four mochas without asking and passed them out like party favors.
“Let’s get into it later,” Cara murmured. “This is not the time or the place. She’s working.”
“Thank you for the backup,” I said quietly to her as she stepped closer to the counter.
“Anytime,” she said. “Also, as your official bookish sister, I’m obligated to tell you: you don’t have to be small to be safe. I’ll bring some good self-help books down tomorrow, and we’ll get to the bottom of all of this. Together. When you tell meeverything.”
I swallowed. “Noted.”
I looked up and caught Paige watching me with that soft, knowing look she only wore for people she’d decided were hers.
The familiar comfort of my sisters’ presence enveloped me, making the Coffee Cabin’s usual noise seem to fade into the background. Their support was loud in the quietest of ways—a look, a gentle squeeze, a teasing word—and I realized how lucky I was to have them in my corner.
“Will you be okay?” Piper asked. “We can talk later, but I won’t leave you upset.”
“Getting there,” I said. “Full disclosure. I’m entering the Taste-Off with the Pennywhistle. Also, Graham is my ex, and he’s a huge dick. And yeah, it was a secret for a lot of reasons…” Tears filled my eyes as I grew overwhelmed, not knowing where to start.
“It’s okay,” Paige whispered and reached for my hand, squeezing it just once, a silent promise that she was there if I needed her. “We can talk when you’re ready. No pressure, okay? We’re here.”
Cara leaned against the counter, her presence steady and grounding, while Piper watched me with a fierce protectiveness that made my chest ache in the best way. For the first time in ages, I let myself breathe and trust that they’d be here for me.
“We’re here. No matter what.” Piper’s smile turned sharp and delighted. “Listen, you’re going to win the Taste-Off. And somehow, I have the feeling it will wreck him if you do. Just stay out of the dessert category, we all know who’s winning that.” She gestured to herself, lightening the mood.
“Don’t worry, we’ll think of at least a dozen ways to wreck him,” Paige said. “Nobody messes with family.”
Cara laughed and sipped her mocha. “We got you, no worries.”
Lucy slid onto a stool at the counter and smiled encouragingly. “We’re here for the duration. Go to work. We’ll just sit here, drink our mochas, and make sure you’re okay while we make our nefarious plans.”
Customers kept coming. I kept pouring coffee. The day moved on.
And under the fear and the anger and the stubborn, stupid hope, something steadied inside me.
The line finally thinned, the last latte handed off, and the espresso machine let out a sigh like it was relieved to stop witnessing my personal melodrama. My sisters lingered at the counter, sipping the drinks I’d “accidentally” rung up with the sibling discount of zero dollars.
“You doing okay?” Lucy asked.
“I’m fine,” I said, which was mostly a lie but also partly true. “Just tired. And over men who think they’re the main character in my life.”
Piper slid a fingertip across my knuckles. “We’re not going to let Graham mess with you.”
“I know,” I said. “But I don’t want anyone fighting my battles for me.”
Paige smiled, fierce and proud. “Too late. We already submitted the paperwork. One battle, coming right up.”
I laughed—really laughed—and it loosened something tight in me. Talking to them helped. It didn’t fix everything, but it made me feel like maybe I wasn’t bracing for an earthquake every time someone said Graham’s name.
They gathered their things and got ready to go.
“Text us when you get home,” Cara said.
