Page 13 of Modern Romance November 2024 5-8

‘Violet, you did suggest not going in.’

‘I did.’

‘Grace should have listened.’

‘Yes, but...’ It felt important to defend her friend and explain that her tears weren’t all Grace’s fault. ‘It’s not just her mother that’s upset me...’ She gulped. ‘It’s been a wretched week.’

She took out a mirror from her purse and tried to dab at her black tears, then gave in and asked for the silk square.

It just made things worse, spreading mascara like soot across her pale cheeks.

‘Allow me...’

Sahir went back around to the front of the residence and discreetly waved at Layla to stay back.

It didn’t feel like enough, though.

Usually he snapped his fingers, or passed problems on to someone else, and he knew Layla was poised to come over.

But he doubted Violet would appreciate an audience.

Taking out his phone, he fired off a quick text to tell Layla it was a private situation, and then stepped into the nursing home for some supplies to deal with a teary bridesmaid.

There wasn’t much on hand!

He returned with only a bottle of water.

Violet was hunched over, holding herself, her body a ball of tension as she fought not to cry.

‘Stand up,’ he said, pouring water on the silk. ‘And do as I say.’

‘I don’t want you to see me,’ she admitted, but she did as she was told and unfurled herself.

‘Too late,’ he said, his voice matter-of-fact. ‘Now, drop your shoulders.’

‘Why?’

‘Because we want you to appear happy and serene for Grace, and we have ten or fifteen minutes to achieve that.’

She sniffed.

‘So, drop your shoulders and chin up.’

‘Okay...’ She forced protesting shoulders down, and when she elongated her neck he saw that it was flushed, as was her chest.

To Sahir’s surprise he found he wanted to take her in his arms, to let her cry, but he chose to focus on the task he’d just outlined—to return her to order rather than let her fall further apart.

‘I’m truly sorry about this,’ she said, and shuddered as he very carefully dabbed her cheeks with the cool silk.

Gosh, her eyes seemed almost familiar, he thought, though he’d never met her before.

‘Look up,’ he instructed, dabbing gently at the little flecks of black mascara that clung to her fair lashes, and although she did as instructed, she voiced a question.

‘How do you know how to do this?’

‘I have a very emotional sister.’

Her full, trembling mouth smiled.

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