I’m careful not to look at Aria. I went through a period where I blamed her for the misery cloud dumping rain all over my life, but I eventually came to realize that wasn’t fair. Aria might have stuck her nose where it didn’t belong, but Mason is to blame.
Only Mason, and that’s why I will never see him again.
Never.
Even if my soul shrivels up and dies while I’m trying—and failing—to get over him.
“This is what I know,” Melody says, holding up a finger and ticking it off. “I know Mason made a mistake four years ago that he promised never to repeat again. I know he went to counseling and said it changed him for the better. I know he loves you and treated you very well when he—”
“For five days!” I take a deep breath and continue in a softer voice, “Five days doesn’t prove anything.”
“What about the letters?” Melody presses. “I know he’s been sending you one every week since you told him to leave town. Have you even been reading them?”
I bristle. “How do you know about the letters?” I ask, refusing to answer the question.
I haven’t been reading them, but that’s none of my sister’s business.
“Mason called me and asked if you’d been getting them so I…checked your mailbox a few times,” Melody says, sitting up straighter.
“You talked to him behind my back?” I ask, outraged. “How could you, Melody? You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“We are on your side,” Aria says, laying a slim hand on my back. “We love you, and we want you to be happy. That’s why we decided we had to talk to you tonight.”
“Gang up on me is more like it.” I still feel prickly all over. Like a cactus with needles that poke in both directions—jabbing out and in at the same time.
“Consider it a March family intervention. Because Mom and Dad are on board with this, too, and ready to add their two cents if necessary,” Melody says, showing no sign of backing down. “When Mason left the first time, we all put up with the crying and the moping and the feeling sorry for yourself for months and months on end, but this time it’s different.”
I flinch, too shocked and hurt by my sister’s words to respond.
“You were young before,” Melody continues. “And it was your first broken heart, and Mom and Dad told us to give you time to learn how to heal. But you’re twenty-five now. You’re a grown woman with a successful business, who’s already been down this road. Even if Mason had done the same thing he did four years ago—which he didn’t—there would be no excuse for the way you’ve been acting.”
“I’m ready to leave.” I stand, moving stiffly to my feet.
Melody pops up from the grass, moving to block my path to the driver’s side of the van. “Mason never should have run away without any explanation, but at least he’s done the work to make sure he’s not going to hurt someone like that again. Now it’s your turn, Lark.”
“My turn to what?” I ask, my voice rising.
“To do the work. To grow up and take responsibility for your feelings and realize no one is perfect. Not even you.”
“I never said I was perfect,” I say, more hurt by my little sister in this moment than I can remember being hurt in the entire time we grew up together. Even when Melody was four and colored in permanent marker all over my new chef costume. “And who are you to decide what I need to do with my life? You’re twenty-two, Melody, and you’ve only dated one boy for more than six months. You’re not—”
“I’m young, but I know what it’s like to love someone who isn’t right for me,” Melody says, crossing her arms at her chest. “I loved Brian. I didn’t want to break up with him, but when I realized we weren’t going to work long term, I did it.”
The day I told Mason it was over, Melody came home in tears from her last date with Brian. When she took Felicity over to his parents’ farm to pet the animals, Brian not only refused to hold the baby, but made little effort to conceal his lack of enthusiasm for small, drooling people who make a mess in their diapers. Melody flat out asked him whether he wanted children in the future, and he confessed that he found babies “kind of gross.”
No one infers that Melody’s treasured baby niece is gross and gets away with it.
She broke up with Brian on the spot, and refused to even consider giving the boy a second chance.
“And I’ve been sad about it,” Melody continues. “But I’m not going to let it destroy me or my relationships with the other people I care about.”
I shrug, trying to act like I’m not bleeding inside from Melody’s attack of tough love. “Well, maybe you’re stronger than I am. Or maybe you don’t love the same way I do. Maybe it’s not as intense an experience for you.”
Now, it’s Melody’s turn to look offended. “That’s not fair. Just because I don’t give up on life when I’m sad, it doesn’t mean I’m not—”
“I’m not giving up! I’m hurting, Melody, can’t you—”
“Hold on, you two,” Aria says, stepping between us. “Just wait a second.”
Aria takes Melody’s hand. “I think what Lark is trying to say is that you’ve always been a really positive person, Melody. Like Mom. That doesn’t mean you don’t feel things, but it may mean you’re naturally better at…bouncing back. That you’re more resilient.” Aria turns to me. “And I think what Melody is trying to say is that you’ve come so far in the past four years. You’re a stronger person now, and there’s no reason to let what happened with Mason take that away from you.”
“So you think I need to grow up, too?” I clench my jaw against the urge to cry.
Aria meets my eyes for a long moment. “Not to be a jerk, because I love you and I understand exactly what you’re feeling, but…yes. It’s time to get help if you need it. That’s the grown up thing to do.”
I nod before tucking my chin, hiding the tears filling my eyes. “Well,” I say, my voice trembling. “Thanks for the help, y’all. I feel so much better.”
“Oh, Sissy, we love you, you know we do.” Melody pulls me in for a hug, crushing me into her abundant chest. “And you’re going to feel better soon, I just know it. We’ll help any way we can.”
“Yes, we will.” Aria throws her arms around us both, turning me into sister-hug sandwich filling.
I stiffen for a second—resentment at being blindsided by an “intervention” warring with the need to melt into my sisters’ arms—but I finally give in and wrap one arm around Melody’s waist and the other around Aria’s, pulling them close. We hug for a good five minutes, rocking back and forth in the fading light until Aria finally pulls away and says—
“I love you both dearly, but I’m hot as the devil’s nut sack. I can’t hug anymore.”
“Ew,” Melody says as she releases me. “That’s disgusting, Aria.”
“So is how sweaty I am under this white button-down.” Aria pulls at the front of her shirt. “Maybe we should let the servers wear short sleeves from now on.”