Lahat ng Kabanata ng My Sister's Fiance: Kabanata 91 - Kabanata 100

Max was trying to take one piece of strawberry from the side of Issa’s mug.Issa saw him. Her hand moved fast, small and ready to pinch.“Aw!” Max pulled his hand back, his lower lip immediately pushing forward. “Issa!”“That’s my strawberry.”“Your name isn’t on the strawberry.”“I saw it first.”“That’s not ownership.”“That’s destiny.”Nathan was still watching them with an expression far too entertained for a man whose countertop was currently being threatened by a fruit war.Max pouted, turned his body slightly, then very slowly took the small spoon from beside Issa’s red mug.Issa immediately turned her head. “Maxime.”Max froze with the spoon in his hand. “I’m just borrowing it.”“You’re stealing.”“I’ll give it back later.”“You always say later. Later is where all my things go to die.”I lowered my glass. “Max, give your sister back her spoon.”“I need a spoon.”“You have a spoon.”“Mine isn’t powerful.”Issa let out a small growl. The sound of a four-year-old with Gómez bloo

Night fell over Oregon in a way far too polite for a house currently being ruled by two tiny four-year-old criminals.Outside, rain clung to the large windows of the family room, its lines sliding down slowly like someone was trying to clean the world from the outside. Inside, the world refused to be cleaned. My linen sofa had lost two pillows. The expensive rug in the middle of the room was covered in LEGO pieces, Max’s socks, one of Issa’s plastic tiaras, three empty string cheese wrappers, and the tiny trail of something I sincerely hoped was chocolate.I sat on the sofa with one leg tucked beneath me, my hair still half damp from the shower I had taken too quickly earlier that afternoon after getting home from Nathan’s house. My cream sweater had slipped slightly off one shoulder. In my hand was a mug of chamomile that had gone cold because every time I tried to drink, one of my children decided they needed to declare a new war.Beside me, Bianna slept like the victim of a ritual.

Sienna blinked once. Arianna stared at me like she was waiting for the next word. They both knew that name. Of course they knew that name. They had seen me at MIT when Zach still came to the lab in a leather jacket, his hair wet from Boston rain, his blue eyes making smart women suddenly want to believe in stupid things.They had been there when I stopped saying his name. They had been there when I came home from Boston with my face carefully arranged, too little luggage, and a body already hiding two small lives.“In Colombia,” Arianna repeated.I nodded. “At Fiona’s engagement party.”Sienna took in a small breath.I smiled. Not well. I could feel it in the way I was holding my napkin too neatly. “Because he’s her fiancé.”Arianna’s mouth opened.Sienna did not blink.I took another fry because I was an adult woman and tragedy should not be allowed to interfere with my salt intake.“Sorry,” Arianna said at last, her voice flat in a way that was very unlike Arianna. “I think I just h

Zach let out a slow breath. His eyes dropped to my face, to the glass of water in front of me, to the dance floor, then back to me.“Drunk.”“Brilliant.” I slapped the table once, except my hand landed on a napkin. “Did Casa de Sanctis acquire observational skills too?”He smirked.“What are you doing here, Zach?”“Picking you up.”I laughed. “No. Try again. You are not picking me up. I’m not a Northlake package, not some rogue service account, not one of the little red dots on your arrogant map.”His gaze moved behind me.I turned to follow it too quickly. The world swayed with me. Near the bar, two men who had been standing by the edge of the dance floor earlier were now looking toward our booth. One of them immediately looked away the second Zach’s eyes landed on him.Oh.Interesting.Or it should have been interesting. My brain only filed it away like a wet sticky note: men looking. Zach angry. Zach pretending not to be.“I’m fine,” I said.“You almost called the weather app.”“I

My head was heavy.Not regular heavy. Not the kind of heavy you got from not sleeping enough or sitting through too many meetings with corporate people who treated “urgent” like a lifestyle choice. This was the kind of heavy that felt like someone had poured wet cement into my skull and left it there overnight to harden.My body, on the other hand, felt too light.Strange. Unfair. Deeply suspicious.I opened my eyes slowly, and for the first few seconds, everything was just gray. A dark ceiling. Morning light slipping through the gap in the curtains. The smell of clean linen. Expensive wood. The smell of—I froze.Cologne.This was cologne my brain recognized in a humiliating way. Dark, clean, expensive, like someone could buy every moral law in existence and then burn it in a fireplace.No.No, no, no.I lowered my gaze to my own body and immediately glared.A white blanket covered me up to my chest, but underneath it, my skin was touching fabric directly. No dress. No bra. Nothing b