Page 52 of Changelings
“I’m the one who has to live with it. Every day. You wouldn’t understand—you’ve always been beautiful.”
Glaring up from her seat, Neomi said, “Other people have problems, too, Gen.”
“Oh, yes, right, I’m so sorry you have to have luncheon with your horrible in-laws. How terrible for you.”
“You wouldn’t understand,” Neomi sneered her words back.
“No, how could I understand such a heavy burden? My life is soeasycompared to yours.”
“Growup,” Neomi scoffed. “Youchooseto be the wounded one. The only person who cares about your birthmark anymore isyou. I’ll bet your manticore doesn’t care one bit.”
I know he doesn’t, but I—
“You don’t get to decide when I get over something, Neomi. This ismy face. I can’t just leave it at home when I don’t feel like having it.”
“No, but you can decide not to care about what others say.”
Imogen snorted, gesturing at the myriad of spoons and forks Neomi was polishing. “That’s rich, Neomi. Why doyoucare so much about what Ada thinks?”
“That’s different,” Neomi growled. “She’s myfamily.”
“And I’m not?”
“I didn’tsaythat.” Neomi threw up her hands. “You’re impossible to talk to sometimes, you know. Always coming tome with problems you refuse to fix. I have problems of my own, Gen.”
“If Collin’s such a problem, why marry him? Itold youhe and his family were horrible—”
“Stop it, Imogen. That’snotwhat I said. You just refuse to accept Collin.”
“Of course I do! You think I care too much about my birthmark? Well,hemade me care! Every day, he and the others made my life miserable just because I looked different. Every chance he gets, Collin says something.”
“That’s not true.”
“Itis!You just refuse to see it. You always have. Everything he’s done to me and youmarriedhim.”
“That’s right, it’s allmyfault. It’s always all my fault.” Throwing the spoons and polishing cloth down, Neomi fisted her hands and pushed them against her chest. “I just can’t do anything right. Can’t be a sister, can’t be a wife, can’t be a mother.”
Neomi began rocking back and forth, shaking her head, and Imogen’s fiery anger snuffed at the sight. Cold dread trickled in to take its place, and she watched on, uneasy seeing the tears well in her sister’s eyes.
“You don’tget it,” Neomi muttered. “We aren’t girls anymore. We’re supposed to be women. Good wives. Mothers. But what if—what if I can’t—why can’t I…”
“Neomi…” Slowly, Imogen knelt, drawing eye-level with her sister.
“She asksevery time. Am I with child? Why aren’t I with child? What am I doing wrong? Why can’t I give her son a child?” Neomi violently pushed the heels of her palms into her face, rubbing and rubbing. “Married all this time and I can’t…it just won’t happen. She’ll ask again tomorrow and I’ll tell her the same thing, and she’ll…”
Imogen swore she could hear the ringing echo of her heart breaking as she knelt and watched her sister struggle.
Fates, she wanted to shrivel up into the husk she felt like, let the wind take her away.
She reached for Neomi—only for her sister to bat her hand away.
“Just go, Gen. I need to get ready.”
“Let me help.”
“You’ve done enough.”
Biting her cheek, Imogen stood slowly. She didn’t leave, not immediately, but she couldn’t bear to stay. More than just her heart broke that day, and she didn’t have the words to fix it.
