The thought makes my eyes dart to my phone lying face down on the kitchen counter. Knox texted me earlier to tell me my truck should be ready soon, and now that Eve is here, she can give me a ride. However, I’m dead set on keeping my real sister and my fake boyfriend far, far apart this weekend.
You see, my sister is smart. Not just doctor-smart, but the kind of smart that makes her freakishly good at reading people. Almost like Knox claims to be. If I try to sell her some crazy story about me dating my ex-summerflingfrom eight years ago, she’ll see right through me. Then I’ll have no choice but to tell her everything. After which, she’ll drag me back to New York and possibly check me into an insane asylum.
“How is work going?” I ask, trying to shift the spotlight off me. I hand her a glass, and we both make our way to the couch to get comfy. If I didn’t feel like I was going to hurl from the huge secret I’m keeping from her, then I might be able to appreciate how much I miss our sisterly bonding sessions. Sometimes we’d even bully Eli into participating, no matter how much he resisted.
When Eve sits down, she takes a huge gulp of wine, answering my question without saying anything. “It’s okay,” she sighs. “I’m almost done with my residency, which is great news, and the ER offered me a permanent position on their staff.”
“That’s amazing, Eve,” I exclaim, but slump my shoulders forward when she doesn’t share my same enthusiasm. “Or is it?”
“I don’t know,” she groans, tossing her head against the couch cushion. “I love working in the ER. It’s fast-paced, and I feel like I’m making an impact on my patients’ lives. But the truth is, I’m exhausted and have zero social life. Hell, I haven’t gotten laid in a year, Ree. I think my vagina is actually starting to collect dust.”
I crinkle my nose at that wonderful analogy. “What aboutthat guy you went on a date with a few weeks ago? The foot doctor.”
Eve takes another swig of her wine and leans forward. “Here’s a pro tip—never date a guy who works with feet for a living. We were five minutes into the date, and he wouldn’t stop staring at my feet. I haven’t worn open-toed shoes since.”
I nearly choke on my drink. “You do have nice feet,” I say, snorting into my glass.
Eve kicks my shin and gives me a warning look. “I’m glad that you find my failed dating life so amusing.”
I laugh again, feeling so at home with Eve here. “What would you do if you didn’t take the ER job?”
“I’d be crazy not to,” she murmurs, swirling around red liquid in her glass.
“That’s not what I asked,” I say, setting down my glass and scooting closer to her. “I was crazy to quit my good-paying interior design job, but here I am hundreds of miles away from New York and feeling more on track than I’ve felt in years.”
Eve stares at me with the same serious green eyes we both inherited from our mom. She gnaws on her bottom lip in deep thought, likely overthinking what she’s about to say.
“I still want to be a doctor, but I’ve been thinking about going into family medicine. I would work at a practice, have patients that I see regularly, and still be able to have a life outside work.”
“Aren’t you worried you’d get bored?” I ask, remembering one of the main reasons she wanted to work at an ER in a major city.
“No,” she answers without her usual pause to deliberate. “I’d still get to make a meaningful impact in people’s lives, and I’d have enough energy to recognize creeps before they got me to go on a date with them.”
I nod and try to wrap my head around my career-drivensister’s revelation. She’s always had a perfectly curated plan for her future. First, she’d become a successful doctor, then she’d find her dream apartment in her favorite city, and lastly, she’d meet her dream guy who would make all the other pieces fall together. And then she wanted a family. A big one. One where she could give her kids the support and caring home we never had growing up.
I turn my focus back to Eve. I’m surprised how calm she is about everything. “Wow. That’s different for you. Are you about to have some big, reckless quarter-life crisis? Because I’ve been waiting for this day ever since you made me color-code my toy drawer because it was making you angry.”
Eve laughs, nostalgia shining in her eyes. “Yeah, I’ve always been a little… high-strung. I still am, but something has changed lately. The things I used to care about don’t seem so important anymore. I guess I got used to Mom and Dad screaming in my ear that your career is everything, but I’m finally starting to see that’s not always true.”
“I get it,” I say, bumping my knee against hers. Everything she’s saying feels like a play-by-play of my decision to move to Honey Grove. Except in typical Eve fashion, her pivot isn’t as crazy. “Our parents really fucked us up, didn’t they?”
“Amen to that one,” she says, clinking her glass against mine. “Speaking of relationships that don’t serve us anymore, what’s the deal with Patrick?”
“What do you mean?” I ask, nerves bundling up. I haven’t told her aboutthatphone call yet. In my defense, it was two nights ago.
“I wasn’t going to bring this up because you’re killing it without the bastard, but he texted me the other day.”
“Oh, really,” I murmur, not surprised. He used to use Eve as a bridge to me when we got into fights. I can’t believe I used to think he did it because he cared about me. Now I know he was weaponizing my family against me. “What did he say?”
“He just asked how you were doing. I ignored him, though,” she says, draining her wine glass and setting it next to mine on the table.
“Good,” I reply, folding my knees into my body and squeezing them close. “I guess he didn’t get the hint because he called me the other night.”
“Ree,” Eve says, pointing her chin down. “I thought you blocked him.”
“I may have fibbed a little.”
Eve shakes her head and lets out a huge sigh. “I kind of suspected it. You had a really hard time letting that man-child go.”
