Confessions from the Quilting Circle - Maisey Yates Page 0,39

the dough so that it would bake just right and make the delicate, flaky layers they would need for good croissants.

They worked in silence, which was preferable to fighting.

“I’m sorry,” Rachel said.

They both kept folding. Layer after layer.

“For?”

“For what I said. For the... The way that I said it. I don’t understand, Anna, and I don’t even know... I haven’t had the capacity to even try for the past few weeks. And it definitely wasn’t something I should have gone off at you about when we haven’t even had a discussion with any kind of civility yet.”

“Oh.”

“I can’t say I didn’t mean it. I did.” She blinked.

“You’re just sorry you said it that way?” She turned the dough and folded it again.

Another layer.

“I don’t know that it was right that I said it at all,” Rachel said softly.

“Oh.” Anna’s heart was thundering as she continued to work the dough.

There wasn’t anything to say after that, Anna supposed.

“I wanted to hurt you because I was hurt. It’s that simple. And I guess I’m that small.”

“You didn’t have to be mean to me.”

“I know,” Rachel said. “Do you ever just feel mean?”

“Oh. All the time. But I haven’t been allowed to show it.”

“Why?”

She snorted. “Really? Look at who I was married to. I was the pastor’s wife. I had to be happy and perfect all the time.”

“I never needed you to be.”

The words took the air out of her. “Well, I don’t know. Mom did. Because you were so good and easy and I was...me. And when I found Thomas I know Mom was sure the issue of me was solved.”

“You really think Mom thought of you as an issue?”

“She was afraid. I know she was. Afraid I’d end up... I mean, I guess like I am.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Because we don’t talk. I was thirteen when you got married. You had Emma. Jacob got sick. I had my own friends, and then I threw myself into my life and...we just never talked.”

Anna just wasn’t happy to let things lie. Not anymore. She’d destroyed her marriage with her actions. There was no more decisive act than the one she’d committed, so why she shouldn’t face her sister and their distance she didn’t know.

They’d both just gone with it. For years.

Anna was done just going with it. It had been the way she’d dealt with life for far too long, and it had been dry. Arid. It was no life at all.

Rachel herself had lived more vividly. Somehow, she’d responded to the way their mother had raised them and found happiness, even though she’d found trials, too.

Rich. Layered. Life.

Anna had been hiding instead. She’d found a stark, literal way to behave. To make herself perfect. And she’d learned just how little that meant in the end.

She wanted more. Better.

“It doesn’t have to be like this,” Anna said. “I mean, it makes sense that when we were younger and we were in such different places in our lives we didn’t connect. But now...we have this great place we all love between us. We’re close to each other in proximity. We had big family dinners all the time. There was always a feeling of being a close family. Jacob and Thomas, and Mom and Emma and then there’s you and me. And all those connections but ours is just...polite. Why?”

Rachel’s cheeks were red. “I don’t know. If you don’t know, why should I know?”

“I—I don’t know, but you’re older, so you should know.”

“Oh, thanks. I—I really don’t think about it. I didn’t even realize it until I was...alone like this. Until Jacob wasn’t there. And then it seemed so obvious how things between you and me aren’t like they should be.” She paused for a moment. “I guess there were some things about your marriage that I resented. And the worse off Jacob was, the more...”

She sucked in a sharp breath and her head lowered, a tear spilling down her cheek. And Anna dreaded what her sister might say next, but she knew she had to listen. Because she’d asked the question. Because when you set off a bomb you can’t hide from the destruction and wasn’t she learning that?

She had asked the question.

So maybe she should bridge the gap, too.

She reached out and pulled her sister in for a hug.

“I loved him so much, Anna,” Rachel said on a choked breath. “I love him so much. Still. And I wanted more and better for him than what he got. And sometimes... I wanted easier