Page 23 of Vows We Never Made


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He might be the heir to a real estate empire worth bajillions, but he’s no match for Julia Sage when she wants to nurture.

I suppose it’s reassuring, knowing it’s not just me she tramples on.

Margot watches her big brother drag his feet into the kitchen. We follow him to the doorway, just in time to watch Mom pour him a tall glass of lovely green sludge.

His nose wrinkles as the stench fills the room.

It’s almost like fresh-cut lawn meets wet dog. Pungent and swampy as hell, the kind of fragrance only Shrek could love.

“Here you are. Bottom’s up!” Mom beams proudly.

Ethan takes the glass and stares at it like he’s holding a radioactive core. I can see his mind racing in his eyes, trying to find a way out of green doom.

But there’s no escape, so he holds his breath as he takes a baby sip, barely managing to hide his revulsion.

I press my hand over my mouth, holding in an explosive giggle.

Yes, that muck tastes as good as it smells. Possibly worse.

“We should save him,” I whisper to Margot.

“Nah. Trust me, he can use a few extra vegetables. Plus, a little humility for the way he came charging in, taking his bad luck out on you.” She’s watching everything with keen interest and a slightly vicious smile.

My anger has truly evaporated.

Sure, he was rude—when isn’t he?—but he’s had a pretty massive shock, and frankly, I wouldn’t want to fake marry me, either.

“Mom,” I call, stepping into the kitchen and eyeing the remaining kale juice like it’s liquid cyanide. “Ethan actually stopped by to see Margot. They have a lot of family stuff to talk about and it’s not the best time for smoothie samples.”

“No, it looks delicious, Mrs. J!” Margot slings an arm over my shoulders. “Go on, Ethan. Finish it. We’ve got all evening to talk about PopPop.”

His eyes could burn her to ash, but he takes another sip, his face puckering.

Then a larger gulp.

I guess he thinks he’d better down it as fast as possible so his torment ends.

It’s fascinating to watch. I’m starting to understand why scientists love studying monkeys as social critters so much.

What will this big, tormented ape do next?

Will he have a human reaction for the first time in his life?

“Well, what do you think?” Mom stares at Ethan hopefully.

“Keep going, Bro,” Margot says before he can answer. “There’s still some in your glass.”

But my rational brain catches up with my monkey-watching brain, and I grab Mom’s arm. “Okay, that’s enough. Time to go.”

“But why?” She looks genuinely confused.

“So Ethan and Margot can talk. Don’t be rude, Mom.”

“Oh, hon, if they wanted to do that, they could go anywhere,” Mom says. Her eyes narrow. “Whatarethey doing at your place?”

I start dragging her to the door.

Behind me, I think I hear Ethan retching.