“I’m asking because last night you mentioned she’s having morning sickness.”
Misty is a nice person. I don’t say that lightly. There’s a reason why she’s my friend. The way she behaved with Olivia was strange. Someone could even address it as bitchy. Nothing like the Misty I’ve known for years.
“No, that’s Nyx,” I correct her, going along with the conversation and adding, “Would you like to have some coffee?”
“Right, you have something to discuss with me.” She sighs.
Honestly, I don’t know if I want to talk to her—ever again. I’m baffled by her behavior. The fury running through my veins is making me shake. She’s unaware of what she did to Liv. I’ve never hurt a woman, but I swear I want to open the door and push her out of the car. I don’t. And she did all this because she wants to marry a man who doesn’t fit in her life.
“While I drive toward downtown, why don’t you tell me about your corny and gleeful life?”
“You’re going to think I’m stupid,” she insists.
I do, but that’s beside the point.
“Misty,” I press.
“It was a week before Valentine’s Day.”
“You’ve been back together for more than a month?”
“About,” she answers casually.
“Why am I just finding out about it?” My voice sounds confused, not angry.
This entire situation should upset me because I have plans for us. It doesn’t. I’m angry because she blindsided me, and we lied to Olivia. Mainly the latter. I have this urgency to take the next exit, call a car to take Misty home, and go back to clarify everything to Liv. Which is weird. I never give out explanations, not even to my parents. If I did something wrong, bring on the punishment. Sometimes I took the blame for my sisters. Someone had to look after them.
“You’ve been in Costa Rica since January,” she answers.
“Working,” I say defensively. “There’s a position in the company open for you. If you wanted, you could travel with me.”
She chuckles. “I’d rather sleep in my own bed. Tents and sleeping bags aren’t my thing.”
“You’re diverting the conversation—again.”
“He called me on New Year’s Day,” she starts. “This time, we restarted things slowly. Phone conversations, flowers, and the next thing you know, we went out on a date. We’ve been talking about our first breakup and why things never work out every time we try to get back together.”
“I don’t understand why the sudden need to organize a wedding when you’re patching up your relationship.”
She sighs. “I knew you wouldn’t understand it.”
“Try me.”
“We were on a break. His mother was sick. His family needed him. He didn’t want me involved because everything was too much for him. The bottom line is that he loves me.” I don’t think I’ve ever heard her speak so fast and without taking a breath between sentences.
“But do you love him?”
“I do, with all my heart. I wish you could be a little more supportive,” she presses.
“There’s a reason why you two broke up. If Mom or Dad were sick, I’d want the person I love with me. Why get back together?” I counteract.
“Please, I thought you’d understand him. You’re like him.”
“I’m not.”
“You went missing for over a week when Callie died,” she fires back. “Maybe it’s a guy thing.”
“What’s a guy thing?” I ask, sounding genuinely perplexed by her suggestion. I’m buying myself some time. How dare she compare me with Richard fucking Prince? I wasn’t missing.
“It seems like men hide or reject those who love them when they’re hurting,” she states. “Not that you ever get hurt. Where were you when Callie died?”
I open my mouth and then close it. I don’t have an answer. When my baby sister died, I was angry, lost, and hurt. Each one of us has a role in the family. Mine is to make sure my sisters are always safe. I failed Calliope, my sisters, and my parents. I spent that time with Olivia. She put me back together and breathed some life in me. I didn’t want to be with anyone but her.
“Exactly, you hid from everyone. If it were me, I would have been with my parents or Richard. The people I love.”
This is a discussion I refuse to have with her. My sisters are annoying but also lifesavers. When my phone begins to ring, I answer immediately, “What’s happening, Persy?”
“Can you pick up the N family?”
I chuckle and wonder if Nate and Nyx will choose a name that starts with an N for baby number two. I hope they do because it’s kind of fun to call them the Ns. “I thought they were in New York.”
“If you had let us finish our conversation, we would’ve told you that she was on her way to Denver,” she says, annoyed. “I texted you, but you haven’t responded yet.”
“At what time are they landing?”
“Twenty minutes,” she answers.
“Listen, I’m close to their house. Let me drop Misty off, and I’ll switch cars.”
“Hey, Misty.” Persy sounds so chirpy, you’d think she’s her best friend. “I hope you don’t mind that we’re interrupting your day.”
“We were actually done,” Misty answers. “You guys have fun.”
“You too,” Persy answers, ending the conversation.
“I guess the conversation will have to wait for another day,” she states.
“Sorry, I had no idea they were coming in today.”
“Do you keep in touch with them when you’re out of town?”
“Always,” I respond. “I just don’t keep track of their whereabouts when I’m in Costa Rica. It doesn’t make any difference to me, as long as they call at decent hours.”
“Maybe that’s your problem,” she states.
“My sisters are annoying, but never a problem.” My voice booms inside the car.
When I exit the highway, I sigh with relief. Misty’s apartment isn’t too far from Nyx’s place. I can’t continue having this conversation with her. I have to arrive at the airport right about now.
“No, I mean that you don’t have a life because you dedicate all your free time to your family.”
As I park in front of the building where she lives, I look at her and say, “You, of all people, know the deal with my family. We’re close. My sisters are my best friends. After almost four years of knowing my brothers-in-law, I could say they fall into the same category. I have a life.”
She gives me a dismissive glare and scrunches her nose. “It’s weird.”
“I’m not sure if you’re complaining, judging me, or… What are you saying?”
She shrugs. “You say I’m your best friend, but I haven’t heard from you in months. You’d rather hang out with your sisters than go out and find a girlfriend.”
“I’m too old for hookups,” I state. “You kept telling me that for years.”
“You listened to me a little too late,” she says, getting out of the car and closing the door, more like slamming it.