She grins and then stares at herself in the mirror again. “I can’t wear it like this tonight. I want to surprise him when I walk down the aisle.”
Funny thing, that my very unorthodox little sister wants to uphold so many of the traditional rituals for her wedding.
I nod. “Worry about that later. For now, makeup. And I need to check on Mom and the boys. I can’t help but feel guilty that she’s?—”
“Mom is loving it. Don’t feel guilty. And honestly, they’re having so much fun in the kids’ center, she told me she feels like the one slacking.”
“I know, but…”
“Don’t worry about the boys. Go find Beckett. I can’t wait to hear what he thinks about your new look.”
And I can’t either. Kind of. But not because I care. Not because it’ll make a difference.
“Fine. Fine. Now you go. For now, get your glamour on.”
She leaves and I’m left standing alone, new hairstyle, new me.
SECRETS AND LIES
BECKETT
Ichange, clean up, get myself together—fresh shirt, damp hair, a hint of cologne. I’m reaching for the door when it swings open.
Ashley.
Not my usual gorgeous Ashley, but another Ashley—her hair shorter, lighter, shining, with tones that catch the light, ends curled up around her shoulders. This woman…
My throat goes dry.
I don’t love you anymore.
She isn’t looking at me. In fact, she’s looking anywhere but at me.
But I’m still staring at her. “What did you do?”
Wait, that came out wrong.
Ashley flicks her hair over her shoulder and sets her purse on the bed. “What?” she asks lightly. “Not your style?”
Like she was testing the question without really wanting the answer.
The look in her eyes is defensive, along with the way she lifts her chin. God, I’ve missed her. “No. It looks great… I—” I take a minute to study her. Not just her hair, but the flush in her cheeks, the fullness of her lips. “I love it.”
That stills her, but only for a second.
“Oh, uh. Thanks.”
She turns to stare at herself in the mirror, and my chest tightens.
“I wanted something different.” Then she glances over her shoulder. “How’s your tattoo?”
“Fine.” I shift my feet. “It’s a little tender. Angry at me. Same as you.”
That earns me the smallest smile.
But then she grabs her bag again and starts digging through it.
“I picked up some Aquaphor. You’re supposed to wash it gently a few times a day, and then apply a thin layer of this moisturizer.”
