One cinnamon vanilla. The other vanilla lavender—Tessa’s favorite.
As the bell above the door dings, I shift my attention back to Anastasia. “I thought you knew better than to talk to strangers.”
She laughs and rolls her eyes. “If that’s the case, then I went into the wrong line of work.”
“Seriously, Anastasia—” I let my attention shift back toward the door. “He didn’t seem off to you?”
“Nothing is off about him,” she replies. “You’re just mad because you don’t like me talking to handsome men.”
“Handsome men? No. It has nothing to do with that.” Right? “Either way, just watch yourself, please. I’ve got enough trouble in my life right now. I don’t want to have you get into any.”
“Ahh, yes. The infamous trouble. How is she doing?” she asks me, low enough that no one can hear.
“She’s fine.” I leave out the fact that she tried to leave last night and then nearly drowned because of it.
“Great,” she says dryly.
“Go ahead. Give it to me. I can take it.” I wave her on, letting her know that whatever is on her mind, she can feel free to speak it.
“Fine.” She leans in closer. “The more I think about it, the angrier I get. You are going to let her back in just so she can destroy you again. I see it all over your face.”
I lean in closer. “No, I’m not. And there’s a lot more to the story than either of us knew.”
“Yes, you are! See, you’re already defending her!”
Taking a deep breath, I contemplate what I’m about to do for all of two seconds before I do it. Anastasia was hurt when Tessa left, too, and she needs to know that Tessa didn’t just walk out without reason. Even if I don’t agree with it, she thought she was doing the right thing.
“She went over to her dad’s that night,” I tell my sister, keeping my voice low.
Her eyes narrow, but she doesn’t speak.
“He told her that he wanted to make amends and be a part of the wedding. When she got there, he beat her, Anastasia. Badly. She was afraid that I would do what I promised to do the next time he put his hands on her—and kill him. She was scared that, if I saw her, bruised, bloodied, and broken, I would snap. So she left.”
Anastasia’s eyes are full of tears, her mouth slack. All anger has vanished from her expression. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. Now, I don’t agree with her leaving like she did. She didn’t even give me the chance to protect her. To defend her.” Even as I talk about it, anger rushes through me. I would have done anything to keep her safe. To make sure she never suffered again.
“Would you have done what she was afraid of?” she asks.
“I would have done something,” I reply. “I’m not sure what, but I know the headspace I was in back then, and it wouldn’t have been pretty.”
“Vengeance belongs to God.”
“I know that now. But I was a nineteen-year-old boy about to marry the woman I loved, and her father beat her bloody.” I leave out the part about him trying to set her on fire because Anastasia is horrified enough.
She’s quiet for a few moments. “I guess I owe her an apology. Maybe even a thank you for sacrificing her happiness to save you. I was pretty rude the other night.”
“I’m not letting her back in, Anastasia. Even if I wanted to, I can’t. But I do think we can find some closure before this is all said and done.”
“I hope you’re right,” she replies, then offers me the two coffees she’d finished right before I told her about Tessa’s reasons for leaving. “Just watch yourself, okay? I don’t want to see you get hurt again. I love you and stuff.”
I laugh. “I love you and stuff, too, Anastasia. And I’ll be careful.”
“Not just with your heart, Zane. After what happened the other night—” She shivers. “I just have this sick feeling in my gut.”
I set the coffee down and cover her hand with mine where it rests on the counter. “I’ll watch myself, okay? You know I’m good at what I do.”
“I know.” She smiles softly. “But you’re not bulletproof, Zane Knox. And these last couple of years, you’ve been walking around like you are.”
