“It got her ma off my back about her daughter looking perfect.”
I glance at him through the mirror. “And Cicely.”
He goes still, even more than before. “What about Cicely?”
“Matteo, you’re my twin. You think I haven’t noticed?”
His eyes narrow, hands sliding into his pockets. “Noticed what?”
“Whenever she’s in a room, your eyes follow her the entire way.”
“She’s my fiancée’s sister. I’m just observing the way the family acts.”
That earns a snort from me. He just gives me a blank stare.
“Just be careful,” I say. “And if you want to marry Cicely instead, talk to Eli.”
He shakes his head, as if even the suggestion is absurd. “The invites have already gone out. And Idon’twant to marry her sister.”
“Whatever you say,” I say softly. “I just wanted to let you know.”
“Well, don’t,” he grumbles. “This isn’t a fairytale, and I don’t care who I have to marry to seal the deal.”
The words land heavier than he means them to. For a second, the room feels too small.
He notices. “Mara.”
I don’t know what he’s going to say, because Matteo isn’t the kind to apologize. Everything he says is logical.
“I—”
“It’s fine,” I interrupt. “I know what you mean. This is all logical for you and nothing more.”
“I…” He hesitates, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t want you to dwell on things. Wishing for things to be different is no use.”
“I understand,” I say quietly. “But that’s not how I process things.”
He studies me for a long moment. “Do you even like him?”
“Orlo? I don’t know him well enough to like or dislike him.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one I have.”
Matteo nods as if he understands me. “There’s not much I can advise you on, but if you ever need help cleaning up, you know where to find me.”
“I do.”
He steps closer and rests a hand on my shoulder. “I mean it, Mara.”
I smile without meaning to. “I know you do.”
“I’ll leave you to it.”
“See you at home.”
For a moment, neither of us speak. The only sound is the faint ticking of the clock on the wall: steady, patient, counting down everything I don’t want to think about.
