Chapter 8 - My Sister Asked Me the Only Question That Mattered
A year after the canceled wedding, Bethany asked to meet.
Not at their mother’s house.
Not somewhere sentimental.
A coffee shop near the Charles River.
Jennifer agreed to thirty minutes.
Bethany arrived early.
No designer bag.
No dramatic makeup.
She looked older.
“Thank you for coming.”
Jennifer nodded.
They ordered coffee.
For several minutes, neither spoke.
Then Bethany said:
“I was jealous of you.”
Jennifer looked up.
“Of what?”
“Everything.”
Jennifer almost laughed.
“My life?”
“Yes.”
“You slept with my fiancé because you wanted my life?”
“No.”
Bethany shook her head.
“Because he made me feel like I could have something you had.”
“Charles?”
“Being chosen.”
The answer was sadder than Jennifer expected.
“You were always the successful one.”
“Dad loved us both.”
“I know.”
“You had your own career.”
“I compared everything.”
Bethany looked down.
“When Dad died, everyone called you strong. People asked how you were coping. Charles held you together.”
Jennifer’s chest tightened.
“And you wanted him?”
“At first, I wanted someone to look at me the way he looked at you.”
Jennifer said nothing.
“Then he started talking to me.”
“About me?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“That you were intimidating.”
Jennifer almost smiled.
“That sounds like him.”
“That he felt like an accessory to Burgess.”
Also believable.
“That he loved you but never felt equal.”
Jennifer looked toward the river beyond the window.
Charles had eventually told her similar things.
Bethany continued.
“I felt sorry for him.”
“So you slept with him.”
“No. Not immediately.”
Jennifer’s eyes returned to her.
“Do you want credit for the delay?”
Bethany winced.
“No.”
Good.
“He kissed me first after Dad’s memorial.”
Jennifer felt the old wound open.
“Did you stop him?”
“For about a week.”
That answer was brutally honest.
“Then I convinced myself you didn’t really need him.”
Jennifer laughed softly.
“Interesting justification.”
“I know.”
“You helped me pick a wedding dress.”
“I know.”
“You sealed invitations.”
“I know.”
“You wore the bracelet.”
Bethany’s eyes filled.
“I know.”
Jennifer leaned back.
“Why are we here?”
Bethany swallowed.
“I need to ask one question.”
“What?”
“Is there anything I can do that would make you want me as a sister again?”
Jennifer did not answer immediately.
That was the only question that mattered.
Not forgiveness.
Not whether Bethany regretted Charles.
Not whether Charles manipulated her.
Could trust ever exist again?
“I don’t know.”
Bethany nodded as tears fell.
“I expected that.”
“I forgive you enough that I don’t want your life ruined.”
“That isn’t the same.”
“No.”
“Do you miss me?”
Jennifer’s throat tightened.
“Yes.”
Bethany cried harder.
Jennifer did too.
Missing someone does not mean they are safe to return.
Love does not automatically recreate access.
“I don’t know whether we’ll ever be sisters the way we were,” Jennifer said.
Bethany nodded.
“But?”
“We can see what honesty looks like without pretending the past disappeared.”
It was not reconciliation.
It was permission to begin very far from the beginning.
They met again three months later.
Then again.
No holiday sleepovers.
No keys to Jennifer’s house.
No financial entanglements.
No forced intimacy.
May you like
Trust moved millimeter by millimeter.
For once, neither woman rushed.
