"Your face is saying everything, though."
"My face is saying I took a morning shift so you could have morning sex with my brother, and you're welcome, but if you share a single detail I will never set foot in this shop again."
She ties her apron on and bumps me with her hip as she passes, grinning in a way that makes her whole face light up. "He made breakfast, that's all."
"Yeah, right."
"Pancakes. He's gotten really good at pancakes."
"Those better be actual pancakes and not a euphemism."
She grins and says nothing, which is an answer in itself, and I gag loudly and go back to my flowers because some things a sister does not need to know.
This is what I signed up for. Loving someone means loving the people they love, and loving Erin means accepting that she goes home to my brother every night and comes back glowing like she swallowed the sun.
I'm okay with it. Thrilled about it, actually. The glowing means Rome is happy, which means the world is working correctly. It just also means I can never eat pancakes at their place again without wondering, and that's a sacrifice I'm willing to make.
Erin settles into the rhythm of the shop, checking orders, starting on an arrangement for a wedding consultation next week. We move around each other with ease, two people who have been sharing this space long enough that we don't need to talk about it, handing off scissors andreaching for the same ribbon at the same time without colliding.
"So," she says, not looking up from a spray of eucalyptus she's trimming. "Ruth was here."
I scoff. "She was talking about Cherry spreading lies about Callahan again. Same old."
I am being assessed before she says, "you seem worked up about it."
"I'm worked up because Cherry is a toxic human who spreads lies about a good man to make herself feel relevant. It's gross." I strip leaves from a stem with too much force. "Anyone would be worked up about it."
"Sure." She snips a stem, casual. "How's Cal doing, by the way? I feel like I haven't seen him in a while."
"How would I know?"
"You see him at Will's."
"I see Will at Will's. Callahan is barely there when I am."
That's technically true. We've gotten very good at making sure our overlap at the house looks minimal and accidental, even though every minute of it is planned through a text thread that would end both of us if anyone ever saw it.
"You've been scarce lately," Erin says, still casual, still not looking at me. "Poppy mentioned it, too. We used to see you every day. Now it's a few times a week and you're always busy in the evenings."
"I'm studying."
"On a Saturday night?"
"I'm very committed to my medical career."
The look she gives me is full of doubt.
"Lily," she pushes gently. "If there's something going on, you know you can tell me."
"There's nothing going on."
The lie tastes bitter on my tongue. I hate lying to Erin more than anyone. She was the first person outside of Rome to see me clearly and love me anyway. She fought for my gap year when Rome wanted me on a plane back to Chicago. She opened this shop to me like it was mine, never once made me feel like I was too much or not enough or anything other than exactly right.
I want to tell her everything. I want to sit on this counter and spill it all. The car, the apartment, the way he says my name in the dark, the trip we're planning, every single thing I've been carrying alone for months. I am bursting with it.
But telling Erin means putting her in the middle again. Between me and Rome, the way she was when I chose to take a break from school. She chose my side then and it nearly broke them.
I won't do that to her again, not when they're this happy. Not when my brother has finally stopped organizing his life around worrying about me and started building one with the woman he loves.
