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“No, it’s not fine. You’re over thirty, Evie. Wake up before it’s too late! I mean, you don’t want to be running this flower shop. Your baking fucking pies to sell at the front desk. You want to be baking. Why are you here?”

She’s not wrong. I’ve been holding onto the dream Sawyer and I had of opening that pie bakery for too many years. But waking up requires fighting with my father, facing my own truths, and recognizing the reality of what’s become of my life. I’m not sure I can handle all that.

“And do what? Dad has already been riding me for years to get married. Years… Grace. I can’t back out of this.”

She glances down at a splotch of ink on the outside of my arm. “What about that guy?”

“What are you talking about?” My heart slams against my chest. “Stop.”

“Okay, tell me that tattoo doesn’t mean anything, and I’ll stop.” She stares at the ace of hearts just below my elbow.

“It means nothing,” I lie—not very well either.

“Sure,” she grins. “You forget I knew that guy too, right?” She rolls her arm forward, showing me the tattoos she got back when we lived in Rugged Mountain. “He did all my ink, and I know for a fact he has a stack of playing cards on his right hand with one that looks an awful lot like the ace of hearts.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. Cards are popular. A lot of people have them tattooed.”

“No, they don’t, and I know for a fact Leon hates tattoos. So, you got that one against his wishes… which really must’ve pissed him off… which means it must have meant something to you.”

I swallow hard and grab a pink rose off the table. “Oh my God, isn’t there a box of roses out back wilting?”

“Yes, and I’ll get to that in a second, but first,” she rests her hand on my shoulder, “be honest with me.”

“Look, none of this matters. At the end of the day, Dad runs the show. We both know that.”

My younger sister rolls her pretty green eyes. Somehow she was blessed with our mother’s green eyes and fire red hair, while I got dad’s dark hair and brown eye combination. “You can break the cycle for both of us. We’ve got to stand up to him. He’s got no right to puppet us like this.”

Puppeteer is a kind word for the things my father does. I’d say he’s more a marionette master. Some days, I truly believe he thinks he’s doing what’s best for us. Others, I know his control is all about money and power. If I marry Leon like my father wants, the wealth my family has built over decades is preserved. I learned from a young age that we were to associate only with the wealthy. Lunch wasn’t lunch unless you were eating with a kid worth millions. And playtime, well, that couldn’t happen unless you were playing with a kid whose dad owned a retail chain. Apparently, similar financial backgrounds give us a mutual understanding and opportunity to grow said wealth.

Forget the part about being human and falling in love and having a heart.According to my father, those qualities are for poor people.

“Dad isn’t going to change his mind, Grace. He’s an old, old man with even older money. Either we fall in line or spend eternity alone.”

Grace rolls her eyes and huffs out a sigh before sliding my cut flowers into the vase haphazardly. “So, you don’t think about Sawyer anymore?”

The sound of his name out loud sends a shock of warmth throughout my body, reminding me of every kiss, touch, and laugh we shared.

“Of course I think about him, but it’s innocent. Like a memory.”

“Right,” she laughs and pushes back her dark red hair. “A memory about whatcouldhave been. Did you guys ever…”

I bite the inside of my cheek and try not to think about the nights that we laid twisted up together. My head against his chest, his rough fingertips against my skin. “No. We didn’t.”

She blows out a breath. “Yeah right. Two years and you guys didn’t fuck? Come on. Be real. I won’t tell anyone.”

“Why are we talking about this?” I take the flowers she tossed in the vase back out and rearrange them slowly, breathing in the soft, creamy aroma of lilies and roses.

“Because I know what you’re feeling. I know why you’ve held off on this wedding so long, why you’re so bummed out all the time, and I know why you’ve got that ace tattooed on your arm.”

I shake my head and smile. “Well, you’ve got it all figured out, don’t you?”

“I do, which is why it makes no sense that you guys didn’t fuck.”

I’m not sure why it’s so important to my sister to figure this mystery out, but I don’t think I’m going to have the answers for her that she needs. “We didn’t. I’m sorry to disappoint you. It’s… I’m sure it’s weird, but I don’t know… we kind of were just really close and… occasionally kissed.”

She laughs. “Wow. Maybe this is worse.”

My shoulders relax as I stare at her. “Why is it worse?”

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