I wasn’t ready to give up until I had answers.
Not yet.
I stood there with the half-prepared fruit board in front of me, holding a strawberry like it might have the answers. Violet was humming to herself as she lined up small bowls of jam and honey, giving me space. She always did that, waited for me to find my own words instead of poking until they spilled out.
Still, I could feel the weight of her unasked question hanging in the room.
Finally, I broke the silence.
“There’s something else,” I said quietly.
Violet glanced up, concerned but gentle. “Okay.”
“I heard him on the phone,” I admitted. “Earlier, like I said, just before I asked him to dinner.”
Her expression shifted, curiosity sharpening.
“I wasn’t eavesdropping,” I added quickly. “I mean, notintentionally.I was walking by, and his door was open just a crack, and… he didn’t sound like himself.”
She said nothing, just nodded for me to go on.
“He was tense. Snappy. He said something about not being home, about a decision, about needing space. It wasn’t just work. Or at least, it didn’tsoundlike just work. It sounded…personal. Said he’d call things off if he didn’t get his break or something.”
The worry I’d been pushing down all morning rose again, and I finally said what had been gnawing at the edges of my thoughts.
Finally, I let myself say it.
“What if he has a wife?”
Violet’s head snapped up.
“I mean, Idon’tthink he does. But I also don’t know him. Not really. What if this is just a vacation thing to him? Or worse, something to escape from real life before he goes back to someone waiting for him?”
Violet frowned, her voice calm but firm. “Fifi, don’t jump to conclusions. You’re good at reading people. And he’s not exactly the type to play games.”
I nodded slowly, even though my chest still ached.
That’s when the kitchen’s back door swung open and in walked Sienna, backpack slung over one shoulder and a half-eaten granola bar in her hand.
She glanced between us. “What’d I miss?”
“Fifi’s worried Ben might be married,” Violet said.
Sienna blinked once, tossed her granola bar into the trash, and said without missing a beat, “If he’s married, I’ll get the shovel.”
I stared at her. “Oh my God, Sienna.”
“What?” she shrugged. “Nobody breaks my sister’s heart and walks away with both kneecaps.”
Despite myself, I laughed.
Violet sighed. “We’re not there yet. Let’s not start burying anyone.”
Sienna leaned on the counter. “Well, just say the word. I have boots and plausible deniability.”
And weirdly… that made me feel better.
Because no matter what happened next—
