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She wafted a hand. “You know, what you see in shows and things. It’s not like that. But they’re a devoted family. Dedicated to each other. It’s—” Her smile was sheepish. “It’s nice. I’m glad you get to experience that if nothing else.”
“Does it make a difference?”
“Knowing that people care about you?” Inessa nodded. “They were kind to me even before they knew me, even before they could see I’d fallen for Eoghan, and that he’d fallen for me... That takes good men. I’m happy for you,ma sœur.”
“Thank you, Inessa. That means a lot to me.” I smiled at her, seeing her sincerity and appreciating it wholeheartedly.
Her lips twisted a touch, before she whispered, “Maybe it’s a chance for us to get closer again?”
“I’d like to think so.” I didn’t reach over to grab her hand, just in case she tried to look at my palms, but I said, “I’ve always hated the distance between us. Physically and emotionally. Sisters should come first—even before husbands.”
Inessa blinked, then surprised me by nodding. “I’m still mad at you for leaving.”
“I know. I deserve that.”
“But,” she conceded with a wince, “after how I got married, I can’t really blame you.”
“What happened?”
She pursed her lips when the server popped up with our orders—my sandwich, her salad. As she stabbed a couple of lettuce leaves on a fork, she muttered, “I tried to back out of it, Father beat the shit out of me. Eoghan saw that I’d been beaten and... let’s just say, things didn’t get better after that.” She shrugged. “The upside was that I knew he was just crazy enough to take on a Pakhan because I belonged to him.” She shook her head. “It was surreal, but I knew I could trust him with my safety. If nothing else.”
“He beat you before the wedding?”
“He did.” Her jaw clenched. “You’re right. I’m glad he’s dead.”
“Me too,” I rasped, staring into her crystalline eyes and seeing the truth there—she didn’t believe the story Victoria had been fed.
“Did he hurt you?” she asked simply.
“He was going to,” I replied, just as simply.
“Well then... I’m sure he deserved his fate.”
I took a bite of my sandwich, swallowed it even though it felt like a lead weight, and nodded. “I’m sure he did.” I cut her a look. “Truly, is everything better? What happened after we spoke yesterday?”
Her nose crinkled. “He took me to the ER, terrified a bunch of innocent doctors, wouldn’t let any men look at me, then when I got a shot to calm things down—” she cleared her throat, “—and a prescription, and we went back to the hotel, wouldn’t speak to me for the rest of the night.”
“He’s annoyed at you for not telling him?”
She sighed, but there was misery in her eyes that gave me my answer without her having to utter a word.
“Eoghan’s very protective,” I told her. “That’s obvious even from a distance.”
“He said I was supposed to tell him stuff like this. Pretty much what you told me.”
“He was pissed you waited that long?”
She nodded, then started twirling her fork amid the lettuce leaves. “It was just mortifying.” Her brow furrowed. “He didn’t seem to get it.”
“Why would he? He’s not a woman, and he’s a lot older than you, Inessa.” Shoving my concerns about my hands aside, I pressed my fingers to her arm and reassured her, “You’re only eighteen. That changes things more than you know, but even so, I’m older than you and I wouldn’t like having to tell Brennan that. It’s…” I sighed. “While we’re married to them, we don’t know them that well. Neither of us have deep foundations for our relationships, do we? That doesn’t mean they’re bad or wrong or weak, it just means we need time.” I shot her a smile. “Time is something we all have in abundance.”
“I guess.” She pulled a face. “When did you get to be so wise, huh?”
I snorted at that. “Me? Wise? Yeah, right.” I hesitated a second, before I decided it was better to give her my take on it than for her to keep on worrying. “He’ll get over his anger with you. He loves you, Inessa. He just wants you to be safe and healthy and happy is all.”
“Doesn’t exactly make me happy when he’s mean to me,” she groused.
“Mad or mean?” I asked, wanting to make sure Eoghan wasn’t mistreating her or anything.
“Mad, I guess.”
“Is it so bad if he’s looking after you when you’re not looking after yourself?”
“That doesn’t make it okay. This isn’t 1980.”
“No, it isn’t, but men don’t change. Not that much.” I hitched a shoulder. “He’ll probably be sorry tonight. You’ll see.”
“I hope you’re right.” Then, she frowned at me. “Is there a reason you’re wearing an evening dress?”
Sisters... always cutting to the heart of everything. From genital rashes to fashion. I’d forgotten about that part of sisterhood.
