“Oh, you will.”
“Marina—”
“Do you remember how we used to play dress-up in Mother’s old gowns?” Marina interrupted, eyes gleaming.
“I—what does that have to do with anything?” Rachel blinked.
Marina waved a hand and continued anyway. “And how we used to sneak out into the gardens at night, pretending we were princesses hiding from an evil king?”
“That was a long time ago,” Rachel exhaled sharply.
“Exactly.” Marina clasped her hands together, delighted. “Which means it is overdue.”
“Youcannotbe serious.”
“Why not?” Marina shrugged. “You are miserable. I refuse to allow it. And I happen to know the best cure for misery is reckless nostalgia.”
But somehow, against herself, Marina managed to convince her. A few moments later, they were curled up in bed, just as they had as children. Marina had insisted on braiding Rachel’s hair, a tradition from their youth, and Rachel let her.
“Do you remember when we used to sneak sweets from the kitchen at night?” Marina mused, fingers weaving through Rachel’s hair.
“I would always get us out of trouble.” Rachel smiled at the memory. It seemed like forever ago now.
“You were always the better liar,” Marina laughed.
“Not anymore, it seems,” Rachel hummed.
“He will come back, you know.” Marina’s hands stilled for a moment before she resumed braiding.
“And if he does not?” Her heart ached at the possibility.
“Then he is the fool, not you,” Marina said, squeezing her shoulder gently.
Rachel closed her eyes, allowing herself, for the first time in days, to simply exist without the weight of disappointment. For now, she was just a sister with her sister, and that had to be enough.
“For heaven’s sake,” a groggy voice called out to her from beside her, “Go to sleep. You have been fidgeting around for too long.”
Rachel should have been tired after how long the day had been, but instead, she lay awake in bed.
She looked at Marina with a guilty expression. “I cannot sleep.”
“You shouldtry,” Marina grumbled. “Because this is very distracting for me.”
Rachel wondered if she should try picking at her sister’s brain for a bit. Perhaps Marina could keep her company for a while—that was what she had come here to do, had she not?
But then, she decided to have some mercy on her.
“I will try,” she muttered, defeated.
Marina mumbled something incomprehensible under her breath, turning the other way and settling back into sleep. Rachel envied her.
She had been having trouble sleeping ever since Simon left, so much so that she had developed eye bags under her eyes.
It was not a pretty sight, but what did it matter, anyway? It was not as though her husband was there to praise her or look at her.
She could not decide which was worse—staying awake and thinking of him or drifting off to a nightmare-ridden sleep? Apart of her preferred the latter, but even then, sleep did not come.
She needed air. Maybe she could take a walk to clear her mind. It was far too cluttered, anyway.
