Page 64 of All You Need Is Love

Behind her, the bacon sizzled and popped as it heated up. Its aroma filled the kitchen.

Quinn didn’t say a word.

If something were going to be said, apparently Shannon was going to have to do it. Ashley’s words from last night drifted back. “In the name of healing, tell her how her actions make you feel—how they’ve always made you feel.”

Whew.

Standing on the opposite end of the island from Quinn, her heart picking up speed, Shannon measured out flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. She took the whisk in hand and mixed the ingredients together in a large bowl. How did one start a conversation like the one she needed to have with her sister?

Maybe this wasn’t the place for it. The right time.

Or maybe there wasn’t going to be one. Maybe it was way past time.

She cleared her throat as she snagged a separate bowl. “Thanks for telling everyone the truth about … things.” To the bowl Shannon added vanilla, buttermilk, and a sprinkling of cinnamon. The spice tickled her nose.

She peeked at Quinn, who was staring at her, meat fork held slightly aloft. When their eyes met, her sister pivoted to give the bacon her full attention.

Okay, then. Shannon faced the stovetop and took the now-melted butter off, setting it aside to let it cool a bit. She turned back to her wet ingredients and took an egg in hand.

“I’m … sorry.”

Shannon’s body tensed at the unexpected words. “About what, exactly?” She tried her best to keep any bitterness from her tone. Tried … and probably failed.

“That Marshall left. I could see how you felt about him.”

“What do you mean, he left?” True, Shannon hadn’t seen him yet this morning, but she’d assumed he had come over with Quinn, Tyler, and Gabrielle and was helping the guys out back.

“He wasn’t at the house this morning, and neither was his stuff.” Quinn poked at the bacon. “And he left me a note that said he couldn’t pretend anymore.” She shrugged, her face emotionless. “So I assume he went back to New York.”

Lungs tight, Shannon cracked the egg against the counter. The yellow yolk oozed out between the shattered shell pieces. Her shaking hands tore a paper towel off the rack and swiped away the mess.

If only life were as easy to clean up.

Ashley’s encouragement nudged her again. Shannon couldn’t do anything about Marshall. But right here, right now, she could maybe do something about this broken relationship with Quinn.

Boat, prepare to be rocked.

“I … didn’t know.” She cracked another egg, this time successfully landing it in the bowl.

“Oh.”

“Quinn.” Breathe, just breathe. Another egg, in. “Why did you feel the need to go through the whole charade in the first place?”

Ugh, she hadn’t meant to spit the words out with such an accusatory edge. Shannon grabbed the pot and poured the ribbons of yellow butter into her mix, then whisked it all together while trying to force her heart rate to slow. Once it did, she attempted a softer tone. “Because everyone around here loves you. We don’t care that you were dumped. So why lie about it?”

Her sister stabbed a piece of finished bacon and tossed it onto a plate covered with a paper towel. “No, Shannon. They love you. They fear me. There’s a difference.”

Shannon’s brows knit together as she combined the contents of one bowl with the other. A lumpy batter formed beneath her fingers. “I don’t think that’s true.”

“Oh, it’s true.” Another piece of bacon flew onto the plate. “But I guess it’s my own fault. I decided a long time ago that I’d rather have respect than pity, and that means I can’t ever show weakness. Not in my job, and definitely not in my personal life.”

Shannon set down the whisk and stared at her sister, whose lips were hardened into a straight line. “The truth isn’t weakness. Neither is vulnerability.”

“Maybe not for you.” Her sister whirled mid-bacon-turn, and grease splattered across the counter and floor. “But it definitely is when you’re the girl going in for the fifth plastic surgery so you don’t scare other children. When you’re that girl, you find a way to make others respect you—even if they never like you. And sometimes that means making up your own truth. Making people see what you want them to see.”

She said it so matter-of-factly, as if talking about someone else.

But she wasn’t. She was talking about herself. How had Shannon never connected Quinn’s car accident and subsequent surgeries with her determination to be the strongest and the best? But Shannon had been young herself and didn’t remember it being as bad as it must have been.

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