“Then why did you let him?”
“Because he was going to leave regardless of what I said. He was already halfway out of the door before I could say anything at all.”
“Did something happen between you both before he left?” Marina frowned. “That does not sound like a man who had made peace with his decisions. That sounds like a man who was running.”
“Maybe he was,” Rachel swallowed, considering the possibility.
Marina exhaled and reached for Rachel’s hand, squeezing it gently. “Do you love him?”
Rachel flinched. She had not said the words out loud before. She had not even admitted them to herself. “I do,” she confessed. “I love him.”
The words sounded foreign even to herself, but it was the truth. And until a few days ago, she had thought that he loved her, too.
“Oh, Rachel…” Marina softened, squeezing Rachel’s hand.
“I knew—I always knew that he would never… that this marriage was never meant to be more than duty. But I still let myself hope. I thought that maybe, just maybe, he…” Rachel swallowed past the lump in her throat and then trailed off, pressing her lips together.
“That he would love you back?” Marina finished for her.
Rachel nodded, unable to speak.A girl can hope.
Rachel was worried that Marina would pity her or extend sympathy—that was the last thing that she needed in this moment—but Marina had the opposite reaction.
“Well, that settles it,” she said, standing up abruptly.
“Settles what?” Rachel blinked up at her
“I am staying with you tonight.”
“Marina, that is hardly necessary.” Rachel let out a startled laugh. “I am not some fragile china doll that you have to guard. I shall be fine on my own. It is enough for me that you have cared enough to visit.”
“It is entirely necessary,” Marina cut in. “You are miserable, and I am not about to leave you to stew in it alone. Because from what I can see, you have done nothing but wallow in silence since he left. Agnes told me you barely leave your room.”
“I do not need an audience for my misery.”
“No, but you do need someone to shake you out of it,” Marina shot back. “And that person is me.”
“And how do you propose to do that? By braiding my hair and stuffing me with food?”
“If that is what it takes.”
“Marina, I am not a child!” Rachel argued.
“Well, perhaps you need to remember what it was like feeling like one,” Marina asserted.
And then, suddenly, something shifted in her expression.
Rachel narrowed her eyes. “What?”
“That is exactly what you need.” Marina’s lips curled into a slow, knowing smile.
Rachel’s stomach tightened at the mischievous look in her sister’s eyes. It was the same look Marina had when they were younger, right before she roped Rachel into some scheme of hers.
“Whatever you are thinking, stop.” Rachel crossed her arms.
“No,” Marina grinned. “This is perfect.”
“I do not like that tone.”
