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“It’s a precaution and a compromise I’m willing to make if that means getting to live in my own house and going to the places I want to go to. I can be angry about it and spend more energy on that, or I can use it as a chance to make friends. To get out more. To bribe my companions with fancy coffee and breakfast confections.

“What about your family? You haven’t mentioned them once. I don’t mean to pry. Well, actually, I do. I care about you, Lilah, dear, whether you want me to or not. So tell me…who do I have to hurt?” I laughed at her ferocity, the genuine rage in her expression. At that point, I would come by every week for our craft night. After gifting her that yarn, she had insisted on teaching me how to knit. The process was not going well. I had oddly shaped squares and rectangles in all colors and sizes littering my apartment. Beth always sent me home with some yarn to practice with.

“I appreciate you defending my honor, but there’s no one to beat up. At least, not right now,” I told her. That night, we were painting; it was my turn to teach Beth something. I paused to clean my brush and sort out my thoughts.

“We were never that close. Growing up, everyone in my family was really focused on how things looked rather than how things actually were. There was this intense focus on protecting and representing the family name, but none of it was real, you know? I had always been a good kid, never got in trouble, but I was also always the odd one out. I even went to school to get a degree in marketing and business to please my dad, then went on to work in the marketing department of the family company. They were slightly happier with me then. It was like I had somehow found a socially acceptable path.”

“Did you like the job?” she asked, as if looking for some sort of silver lining in my story.

“I didn’t mind it, but it was never a passion or something I felt strongly about. It was more a means of approval and acceptance,” I told her honestly. She nodded, reaching over to touch my shoulder.

“You shouldn’t have to change who you are to be accepted. I know that’s a lot easier said than done. Since you’re here with me now, though, I think you know what I mean.” I nodded, covering her hand with mine. A sense of connection, a bond built from having to start over and find yourself, reverberated between us.

“So, what made you decide to leave?” she asked. I took a sip of my wine.

“I was engaged at the time. My family loved my fiancé, Kyle. I think that’s a big reason I was even with him. It felt like my family accepted me for the first time ever, and at the time, I didn’t care that it was because of who I was with rather than who I was.” Anger bubbled in me. The tears were long gone, and all that was left was disappointment and rage. Everyone had failed me and made me feel like it was my fault. Now, I was the one scrambling to undo the damage they had inflicted.

“Anyway, Kyle wasn’t exactly husband material—something I figured out before we got married, but still too late. When I decided to cancel the wedding, my parents were furious. They told me if I went through with it, I was cut off. Here I am, very much not married to Kyle. So that was the last time I spoke to them.” When I looked up, Beth had a fierce look on her face.

“Did he hurt you?” she asked, a slight tremor running through her.

“Once. That’s when I left,” I told her before I could think of an excuse to lie.

“You’re so strong, Lilah. Don’t let anyone tell you differently. You don’t know how many other women in your position would have found a way to excuse him, give him a second chance. You loved yourself enough to leave, to value yourself over him.” Our eyes connected, hers filled with sadness.

“It took me twelve years to leave, and even then, it wasn’t about me. It was when the threats switched to Eliot that I finally found the strength to get away. And even then, I wasn’t strong enough to do it on my own. We never would have gotten out if it weren’t for the brothers.”

“I’m glad you had them. I don’t think it matters how you get out as long as you do. And clearly, both you and Eliot have managed to create a beautiful life together when you were given the opportunity to start over. The relationship you two have is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Growing up, teachers, tutors, nannies, they knew how we were doing in school, who our friends were, what foods we liked or didn’t like at the time. I don’t think my parents knew anything specific to either me or my sister, only the traits they would want to talk about to their friends. And half of those were made up and then reinforced by unwanted lessons. I can’t tell you how much I hated piano. Whenever I see one, I cringe.” I tried to joke. Beth smiled at me, but it was only half there.

“I knew there was a reason we met. We have similar souls. Different paths, but paved with bricks made up of the same demons. When you are here, whenever you are with me, I expect you to be your authentic self. I want the real Lilah. I don’t care how stupid or insignificant a thought might be. I want to know. And to be clear, I’m not trying to adopt you or play surrogate mommy. You don’t need that. You’re strong enough. I see you as another woman who was put through hell by the people around her. Who let her love and compassion be used as a weapon instead of being treated like the gift that she is. I see a woman who shattered everything so she could put the pieces back together in a shape that she chose. We may be damaged, but we are not broken. Kindred spirits, my darling girl. We have to stick together.” An unwarranted tear dripped down my face as I listened. Her description was so accurate, it was as if she saw everything and cut right to the core of it.

“Alright, now, tell me how to make these mountains look less like triangles and more like…Well, mountains,” Beth said, redirecting us back to neutral ground. The next hour passed quickly as we drank more wine than we did paint. Eventually, we retired to the couch, where we finished the last of the bottle, both of us curled up on either end, exchanging stories. Beth was in the middle of a detailed breakdown of the first book I had gotten her, deciding I needed to be involved if I wasn’t going to read them as fast as her.

My cheeks were flushed, and my body felt warm from the wine. We were giggling like teenagers as Beth went through all of the different men and their…bigger traits.

“All I’m saying is he may not be my favorite personality-wise, but what he’s lacking in communication, he makes up for in length…And I’m not talking about wingspan.” We were cackling at the joke as if it were a standup routine when the sound of the front door opening broke through. Eliot walked in, a soft look on his face as he saw us sitting there laughing.

“Sorry to interrupt. I was just swinging by to drop this off. Thought I would say hi…See if maybe Lilah needed company for the walk home. It’s pretty dark out.” I flushed under his dark gaze and found myself nodding before a word came out of my mouth.

“What a wonderful idea! You’re a doll, Eliot. Just give me a minute to pack up some leftovers.” Beth hustled out of the room, leaving us alone.

“Hi,” I said, flushing as I got up from the couch. We had spoken and bumped into each other a few times over the past few weeks, but each time I saw him, it felt like the first. His presence hit me on a visceral level, my body seeming to know he was near before I saw him.

Alone in the room with him, even with Beth just a few feet away, I felt dizzy, like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room. As I tried to steady my breathing, I had the dark thought that the walk home might just be the death of me. But what a way to go.

Chapter 9

Scythe

Lilah looked beautiful, her cheeks flushed with laughter and wine. Seeing her in person, not over a monitor, was almost an overload to my senses. I couldn’t break my stare. It was as if my brain needed to take extra time to catalog every inch of her, memorizing it forever.

“Hi.” Her flustered greeting disarmed me, something close to a smile creeping across my face.

“Hey, yourself. Looks like you two are having a good night,” I replied. And I meant it. Both Lilah and Mom looked relaxed and happy. It was nice. There was a part of me that was always worried about my mother, wanting more for her, more than just me. At the same time, I was a recluse for a reason. Who was I to preach about getting out more?

“We are. Beth is great. Thank you for sharing her with me,” she replied, the volume of her voice trailing off as if she looked struck by something.

“Happy to. Although at this point, I don’t think I have a choice. Ma would riot if I tried to interfere in craft night. Not that I would.” I ushered to reassure her right as Mom came around the corner with a bag packed full of Tupperware.