“No. No ‘but still’. He doesn’t get a pass, and you lied about being divorced! To me! You’re supposed to be my person, Pea. We’re supposed to be able to tell each other everything, and this whole time you’ve been living a lie with me. You know what Mama always said about lying? If you have to lie about it, you probably shouldn’t be doing it anyway.”

“Please don’t quote Mama to me right now, Lucy.”

“You have to leave him, Mari. Physically, emotionally, mentally. He’s toxic for you. No good is going to come from this.”

“You have no clue what it’s like to be married!” Her voice heightened. Mari never raised her voice.

“But I do have a clue what it’s like to be respected! Jesus, I cannot believe you’ve been lying this whole time.”

“I’m sorry I lied, but if we’re honest, you haven’t been the most honest person lately.”

“What?”

“This,” she said, gesturing toward Talon. “This whole Graham thing is weird. Why are you taking care of his kid? She’s obviously old enough for him to take care of himself, or hell, he could hire a nanny. Tell me the truth, why are you still there?”

My gut tightened. “Mari, that’s not the same thing…”

“It’s exactly the same thing! You say I’m staying in a loveless marriage because I’m weak and you’re pissed that I lied to you, but you’ve been lying to me, and to yourself. You’re staying with him because you’re falling for him.”

“Stop it.”

“You are.”

My jaw dropped open. “Mari…this, right now, this isn’t about me, or Graham, or anything other than you. You’re making a huge mistake talking to him. It’s not healthy and—”

“I’m moving back home.”

“What?!” I exclaimed, shock reverberating through me. I stood up straighter. “That’s not your home. I’m your home. We are each other’s home.”

“Parker thinks it will be best for us, to work on our marriage.”

What marriage?! “Mari, he called you after you were in remission for two years. He waited it out to see if the cancer would come back. He’s a snake.”

“Stop it!” she screamed, shaking her hands back and forth in annoyance. “Just stop. He’s my husband, Lucy, and I’m going home to him.” Her head lowered and her voice cracked. “I don’t want to end up like her.”

“Like who?”

“Mama. She died alone, because she never let any man get close enough to love her. I don’t want to die without being loved.”

“He doesn’t love you, Pea…”

“But he can. I think if I just change a little, if I just become a better wife…”

“You were the best wife out there, Mari. You were everything to him.”

Tears fell from her eyes. “Then why wasn’t I enough back then? He’s giving me another chance, and I can do better this time.”

It was crazy how fast it happened, how quickly my anger transformed into pure sadness for my sister. “Mari,” I said softly.

“Maktub,” she said, looking down at the tattoo on her wrist.

“Don’t do that.” I shook my head, hurting more than she’d ever know. “Don’t take our word and give it some kind of dirty meaning.”

“It means all is written, Lucy. It means everything that happens was meant to be, not only what you believe to be destined. You can’t only accept the positive in life. You must accept it all.”

“No. That’s not true. If a bullet is coming toward you and you have enough time to move, you don’t just stand there and wait for it to hit. You step sideways, Mari. You dodge the bullet.”

“My marriage is not a bullet. It’s not my death. It’s my life.”

“You’re making a huge mistake,” I whispered, tears falling down my cheeks.

She nodded. “Maybe, but it’s my mistake to make, just like it’s yours to make with Graham.” She crossed her arms and shivered as if a chill had found her. “Listen, I didn’t want to tell you like this but…I’m glad you know. My lease is up soon, so you’ll have to find a place. Look…we can still go on the hike if you want, to clear our heads.”

“You know what, Mari?” I grimaced and shook my head. “I’d rather not.”

The hardest part of life was watching a loved one walk straight into fire when all you could do was sit and watch them as they burned.

“You’ll stay with us,” Graham said over FaceTime from his hotel room in New York.

“No, don’t be ridiculous. I’ll find something. I’ll start searching the minute you get back in two days.”

“Until then you’ll stay with us, no ifs, ands, or buts. It’s fine. My house is big enough. I’m sorry, though, about Mari.”

I shivered at the thought of it all, at the idea of her going back to Parker. “I just don’t get it. How can she just forgive him?”

“Loneliness is a liar,” Graham told me, sitting down on the edge of his bed as he spoke. “It’s toxic and deadly most of the time. It forces people to believe they are better off with the devil himself than being alone, because somehow being alone means a person failed. Somehow being alone means a person isn’t good enough. So, more often than not, the poison of loneliness seeps in and makes a person believe that any kind of attention must stand for love. Fake love that is built on a bed of loneliness will fail—I should know. I’ve been alone all my life.”

“I hate that you just did that.” I sighed. “I hate that you just took my annoyance with my sister and made me want to go hug her.”

He chuckled. “Sorry. I can call her names if you’d…” His eyes narrowed as he stared at his phone. I noticed the panic in his stare instantly. “Lucille, I have to call you back.”

“Is everything okay?”

He hung up before I received a response.

I was a master of stories.

I knew how a great novel came to exist.

A great novel didn’t involve tossing together words that didn’t interconnect. In a great novel, each sentence mattered, each word had a meaning to the overall story arc. There was always forewarning to the plot twists and the different paths the novel would travel down, too. If a reader looked closely enough, they could always witness the warning signs. They could taste the heart of every word that bled on the page, and by the end, their palate would be satisfied.