The Future Bride’s Warning

I gripped my phone, unable to say a word. By the time Mom and Craig Eaton reached me, I managed to compose myself.

Craig ruffled my hair. "Diane, why are you so quiet? Are you still upset we took Gwen on vacation without you?"

At Mom's frown, I shook my head instinctively.

"No," I said. "I just finished packing. I'm a little tired."

Her expression softened, and she held out a bag of groceries.

"You've had time to rest. Go get dinner started. Gwen's eating with us tonight. I'll go pick her up from Asher's."

I left the bag hanging in her hand and looked at her. "Gwen's just our neighbor's daughter, but you always seem to care more about her than me. Why is that?"

Mom froze, and Craig's smile faded. He took the groceries from her and nudged me toward the stairs.

"Come on, don't say that. You're her daughter. Of course, she loves you most. Let's go. I'll help with dinner."

Back in our apartment, Craig rolled up his sleeves and washed vegetables beside me at the sink.

I studied his familiar face, still trying to reconcile the gentle man beside me with what I heard on the livestream.

"Because Craig fell for someone else," the me in the livestream had said.

"Craig..." I hesitated.

He didn't seem to hear me. He kept rinsing the vegetables without looking up. "Go heavy on the hot sauce. Gwen likes it spicy."

I frowned. "But my stomach's been bothering me."

"It's one meal. Gwen's already upset about not getting into college and having to apply again next year. Cut her some slack."

My throat tightened. "Craig, do you still…"

The doorbell rang before I could finish. He dropped the vegetables in the sink and hurried to answer it.

The moment he opened the door, Gwen Miller's laughter filled the apartment.

I stayed at the sink while the three of them settled on the couch, chatting and laughing. The sound grated on me.

Craig glanced my way, then got up and walked toward the kitchen.

I relaxed a little, relieved that he still thought to check on me.

But then, he stopped just outside the kitchen.

"Diane, quit daydreaming and get dinner started. Gwen's hungry. Don't forget the hot sauce."

On his way back to the couch, he added, "Turn on the exhaust fan, too. Gwen doesn't want her clothes smelling like grease."

My hands went still in the sink.

"Got it," I said quietly, without turning around.

I stared down at my hands in the cold water, barely feeling it. After a while, I dried them on my apron and took out my phone to reply to my mentor, Peyton Walsh.

[I'd like to go abroad with you. Could we leave the day after tomorrow?]

Her reply came almost immediately.

[Absolutely. I'll pick you up at nine that morning.]