and stared. Her sister was standing in front of the door with her arms folded, a familiar, stern set to her mouth.
“You know,” Ruth began cautiously, “Just because Mum said—”
“She’s right. She’s always right. I want to talk to you.”
The word talk had become Ruth’s personal nightmare over the last few days. She’d examined it from every angle, explored its every connotation, remembered every time Evan had asked her to do it, and decided that talking was for the devil.
But she always tried not to upset her sister. So Ruth stood, dusted off her hands on the back of her leggings, and said, “Okay.”
Hannah sighed. Ruth knew from experience that this indicated an extensive lecture on the horizon. Accordingly, she leant back against the counter.
And then she remembered Evan lifting her up to sit on the edge of a sink, asking her—asking her—for a kiss.
“I heard that Daniel and Evan had a disagreement,” Hannah said.
Ruth sighed. “Seriously? That’s what you want to talk about?”
“I thought that was why you’re so upset. Apparently, Evan’s in a bad way.”
Ruth stared. “Evan’s fine.”
“Really? No black eye?”
“Um… no.”
“No dislocated shoulder?”
“Definitely not.”
“Hm,” Hannah sniffed. “I suppose that rumour came from Daniel, then. But you admit they fought?”
“I really could not care less,” Ruth lied.
And Hannah said, “I’m tired of you pushing me away.”
For a minute, Ruth’s mind stuttered; was this Hannah, or was it Evan? Or was it Maria, two years ago, or Hayley, before her?
Ruth swallowed. “I don’t mean to.”
“I know,” Hannah said. “That makes it worse.”
Ruth wanted to turn away. She wanted to avoid her sister’s gaze and pour her focus into something else, some mundane task. She wanted to split up her attention so that processing these words wouldn’t seem quite so intense. She wanted this conversation to feel like less of a slap in the face. But she was done with being a coward, so she stayed exactly where she was.
Well… that was a surprise. Ruth frowned, trying to figure out if she’d missed something.
Finally, she just had to ask. “Sorry for what?”
Hannah gave her a look. “You know what. And I know that this is—God, years too late—but if it weren’t for me acting like a damn fool you wouldn’t be in the position you are now.”
The pieces slid together. Ruth stared at her sister with growing horror as she realised what Hannah was trying to say.
“No,” Ruth insisted. “No. That’s not true. It’s not your fault. It’s my fault, and his fault, and—”
“Your fault?” Hannah echoed, her face incredulous. “Jesus. Sometimes it occurred to me that you might genuinely think that, but I didn’t believe it.” She rubbed at her own temple for a moment, her expression melting into weariness. “I should have, though, shouldn’t I? That’s why you’re like this. That’s why you’re punishing yourself.”
Ruth looked down at the kitchen tiles; familiar, cream squares. Following the lines of pale grout between them helped her clear the thoughts crowding her head, helped her pinpoint the most important part. “I’m not punishing myself. I’m not pushing you away.”
“Bullshit,” Hannah said, her tone incongruously gentle. “I know you adore that man.”
Ruth’s breath caught in her throat. “Evan?”
“Yes, Evan. And now you can’t deny it, because if it wasn’t true, his name wouldn’t have even occurred to you.” Hannah gave a little tilt of the head that brought to mind their childhood, the pointless, circular arguments they’d have that she would always win.
Ruth bit down on the inside of her cheek. “I don’t see what Evan has to do with us.”
“I suppose he’s just a symptom of the issue.” Hannah spoke quietly, her voice clipped. “You’re so committed to keeping people at arm’s length, you can’t tell your own sister that you’re falling in love. We don’t do secrets anymore, Ruth. Remember?”
“Don’t,” Ruth snapped, her temper flaring. “This is nothing like the last time.”
“No, it’s not. It’s worse. Because he’s a decent person, and he’s honest, and he’s nothing to be ashamed of, and he makes you smile. And I had to find that out on my own, because you didn’t tell me. You knew I would be worried, you knew I would hear things—”
“Right,” Ruth snapped. “Because what you hear is so important. Why should I bother saying anything if gossip is all you need?”
“Why do you force people to look for it?” Hannah asked, exasperation in her every word. “I’m your sister. I would love to stop relying on strangers to tell me