they were kids. Doing anything would result in a tighter grip.
“That doesn’t mean you have to tell the truth. Weddings are supposed to be happy and you are turning this into a morbid remembrance of what you lost.” Julie released her. “God. I can’t believe you still wear that. It’s embarrassing. It’s no wonder you can’t get a date for the wedding. Men see that and think you’re taken.”
“Well, at least you’re saving on a meal.” Olivia stripped off the sausage skin and left it on the floor. Maybe she could accidentally lose it. She slid her maxi dress on and shoved her feet into her sandals. She was done. She’d tried on the damn dress; she didn’t have to hang around.
“I didn’t mean it like that. Come on, we’re having lunch after this.”
Olivia stared at her sister. Julie didn’t want her at lunch, not really. And she didn’t want to be there.
“You did mean it like that.” Tears formed, but she refused to let Julie see them, so she blinked fast and hoped that her sister didn’t notice. How could Julie get under her skin so fast? “You don’t get to decide when I stop wearing my ring.”
If she took off her ring it would be like admitting Miles had never existed. Had never been a part of her life. It would mean that she was ready to move on.
“After what he did to you, I’m surprised you wear it at all.” Julie raised one eyebrow, as if she’d won the fight with pure logic.
For a moment it was as though Olivia was trapped in the sausage skin and couldn’t breathe. “At least I know how to care.”
But Julie didn’t hear, or if she did, she chose not to listen.
It had taken three goes to get her car started in the car park near the dress shop, and she’d bawled all the way home. For herself, for the life Miles had never got and for Ethan who’d never met his father. Then she cried in the driveway because she knew Julie was right. She couldn’t wear her engagement ring forever. How many times had she told people there’d be no wedding because her fiancé was dead?
Too many.
And each time her response was met with a mix of pity and horror. She didn’t want to be that person anymore.
Olivia turned up the air-conditioning and folded her arms over the steering wheel and placed her forehead on them. She drew in several deep breaths. Her mother would know she’d been crying. She probably wouldn’t ask why. The wedding wasn’t bringing out the best in either of her daughters.
Plenty of people had told her she shouldn’t be getting engaged or having a baby at eighteen. Surprisingly, no one had said that she wasn’t old enough to be widowed—was it widowed when they hadn’t been married? However plenty had frowned and said she was too young to be a single mother. What did they want? Young and married with a baby or young and single with a baby?
There was no winning.
She gave her face another pat and hoped the chill of the AC had reduced some of the redness. She’d been happy when Julie had announced her engagement, but as the wedding plans had started she’d been feeling more off kilter, the impending celebration dredging up thoughts and feelings she’d thought long buried.
Julie had accused her of being jealous, but she wasn’t. She didn’t want Julie’s life…okay maybe a little. It would be nice to have own place with her husband-to-be. But that had been taken and it wasn’t what she had. At least living with her parents she got some help with Ethan.
Those first few months she’d really needed it. It had taken a lot of physiotherapy to get her arm working as well as it did, but it was weaker. Loss of muscle due to infection, the doctors had said.
She’d kept her eye and defied them all. Ethan had also survived against the odds. He’d been a tiny baby, born eight weeks early. Not that she’d known at the time. She’d been in an induced coma for weeks. Her parents had thought they were going to lose her and their grandson.
Julie could take her
“That doesn’t mean you have to tell the truth. Weddings are supposed to be happy and you are turning this into a morbid remembrance of what you lost.” Julie released her. “God. I can’t believe you still wear that. It’s embarrassing. It’s no wonder you can’t get a date for the wedding. Men see that and think you’re taken.”
“Well, at least you’re saving on a meal.” Olivia stripped off the sausage skin and left it on the floor. Maybe she could accidentally lose it. She slid her maxi dress on and shoved her feet into her sandals. She was done. She’d tried on the damn dress; she didn’t have to hang around.
“I didn’t mean it like that. Come on, we’re having lunch after this.”
Olivia stared at her sister. Julie didn’t want her at lunch, not really. And she didn’t want to be there.
“You did mean it like that.” Tears formed, but she refused to let Julie see them, so she blinked fast and hoped that her sister didn’t notice. How could Julie get under her skin so fast? “You don’t get to decide when I stop wearing my ring.”
If she took off her ring it would be like admitting Miles had never existed. Had never been a part of her life. It would mean that she was ready to move on.
“After what he did to you, I’m surprised you wear it at all.” Julie raised one eyebrow, as if she’d won the fight with pure logic.
For a moment it was as though Olivia was trapped in the sausage skin and couldn’t breathe. “At least I know how to care.”
But Julie didn’t hear, or if she did, she chose not to listen.
It had taken three goes to get her car started in the car park near the dress shop, and she’d bawled all the way home. For herself, for the life Miles had never got and for Ethan who’d never met his father. Then she cried in the driveway because she knew Julie was right. She couldn’t wear her engagement ring forever. How many times had she told people there’d be no wedding because her fiancé was dead?
Too many.
And each time her response was met with a mix of pity and horror. She didn’t want to be that person anymore.
Olivia turned up the air-conditioning and folded her arms over the steering wheel and placed her forehead on them. She drew in several deep breaths. Her mother would know she’d been crying. She probably wouldn’t ask why. The wedding wasn’t bringing out the best in either of her daughters.
Plenty of people had told her she shouldn’t be getting engaged or having a baby at eighteen. Surprisingly, no one had said that she wasn’t old enough to be widowed—was it widowed when they hadn’t been married? However plenty had frowned and said she was too young to be a single mother. What did they want? Young and married with a baby or young and single with a baby?
There was no winning.
She gave her face another pat and hoped the chill of the AC had reduced some of the redness. She’d been happy when Julie had announced her engagement, but as the wedding plans had started she’d been feeling more off kilter, the impending celebration dredging up thoughts and feelings she’d thought long buried.
Julie had accused her of being jealous, but she wasn’t. She didn’t want Julie’s life…okay maybe a little. It would be nice to have own place with her husband-to-be. But that had been taken and it wasn’t what she had. At least living with her parents she got some help with Ethan.
Those first few months she’d really needed it. It had taken a lot of physiotherapy to get her arm working as well as it did, but it was weaker. Loss of muscle due to infection, the doctors had said.
She’d kept her eye and defied them all. Ethan had also survived against the odds. He’d been a tiny baby, born eight weeks early. Not that she’d known at the time. She’d been in an induced coma for weeks. Her parents had thought they were going to lose her and their grandson.
Julie could take her