I gave her two full days to come to her senses. Two days to realize the enormity of what an arranged marriage would entail before trying to talk some sense into her. Yet somehow, it seems as though time hasn’t lessened her resolve in the slightest.
“Help me understand, Isa. Why are you doing this to yourself?”
“That’s the whole point—I’m not doing anything to myself. I know we haven’t talked about relationships, but I truly never planned to marry. I’ll be more than happy for my husband to pursue whatever other women he wants. He keeps his freedom. I help my family. No one loses out. But if I don’t do this, some poor girl could have her heart broken.”
“What about your heart?” I ask softly.
The sorrow in her eyes when she smiles at me sends a brutal ache through my chest.
“You’ve worked through your losses, and I’m so incredibly happy for you, but mine have changed me permanently. I’mthirty-seven, Rina. If I haven’t found any interest in love by this stage, it’s not going to happen. I’m okay with that, and I hope you can be, too.”
I often forget that Isa is older than me. It’s the reason we didn’t connect until more recently, even though our fathers worked closely together. She’s older than me, but love doesn’t have a sell-by date. I want to shake her and insist that thirty-seven isn’t remotely old enough to give up.
“What if you agree to this, marry a man you don’t love, then run into your soulmate? You’ll have trapped yourself with no way out.”
“There are as many what-ifs in the world as there are drops of water. If I give them power over me, I’ll drown. I can only look at the facts as they are right this minute when making a decision about what I do next, then honor those choices knowing I did the best I could at the time. At this particular moment in time, that means agreeing to be married.”
She sounds so steadfast in her resolve that all the fight in me melts away. As much as I hate to admit it, she is the only one who can decide what is best for her.
“Okay, Isa,” I offer gently. “I can’t say that I totally understand, but I respect your decision.”
My best friend squeezes my hand and smiles. “Thank you, honey. I know this isn’t easy. Heaven knows my dad is struggling with it more than anyone.”
“I imagine so.”
“He’ll adjust the same way we all do when life tosses us an unexpected curve in the road. A year from now, you and I will be elbow deep in soup, and you’ll see that none of the important things have changed.”
I smile, hoping that she’s right. “Soup, huh?”
“I haven’t forgotten. We need to pick the place and get to it.” Her grin almost reaches her eyes. Almost. And when I start tothink about it, I realize I’m not sure I’ve ever seen her light at its brightest. That was comforting to me for years. I didn’t have to feel any pressure around her to shine brighter than I could manage, but now that I’ve escaped the darkness, I want to drag her with me.
That’s not how it works, though.
A person must walk into the light voluntarily. It’s not a destination that can be forced.
“Say no more. I’ll get on it as soon as I have a chance.” I can’t force her anywhere she’s not willing to go, but I can lead the way and hope she’ll follow. “Be prepared. I have a feeling D will insist on escorting us.”
“Three pairs of hands are better than two.”
My body shakes with laughter. “That may send him into grumpy overload. He’s not exactly the rubber gloves and hairnet type.”
The visual has her giggling along with me.
“No, but he’d do it for you,” she says fondly.
I smile and nod. “Yeah, he would.” He’d also take payment from me after the fact, but I wouldn’t balk at the fee. In fact, the entire arrangement is sounding more and more promising. “I’ll have a look at the options next week.”
She lifts her coffee mug and clinks it with mine. “It’s a deal.”
“Hey,Mom and Dad, I hope you don’t mind that I brought someone with me. I’d like to introduce you to Terina.” DiAngelo holds my hand as we enter the pre-op room where Mr. and Mrs. Farina prepare for her double mastectomy.
I was honored when D asked if I wanted to join him today—to meet his parents and to support him through such an emotionalday. Especially when our shoot-out with the Russians was less than a week ago. We’re grateful to have all the time we can get together, even if it means a day at the hospital.
The older couple stares at me as though I’ve sprouted a third eye.
I give a little wave before I’m gobbled into a huge hug from D’s dad.
“Mind? Are you kidding? We’re absolutely delighted. Call me Rocco.” He pulls back and beams at me, then moves to hug his son.
