29. Gwen
“Isn’t this kind of silly?” I ask, leaning over the glass case and staring into the sea of gems and gold, diamonds and silver. “We’re married. I don’t need an engagement ring.”
Charlie puts his arm around my waist and slides his hand over mine to fiddle with the red string still tied around my finger.
“You don’t have to get one if you don’t want one,” he says quietly, surveying the options at the third store we’ve visited this morning. “But my family threatened me with a prolonged torture if I didn’t give you a proper engagement and wedding.”
I move past the diamonds, gorgeous and lab-grown, but somehow not calling to me.
“Your mother sent us an entire garden of flowers as congratulations,” I argue, eyes running over the blue gems, topaz and aquamarine and sapphire, all shimmering like pools of pure ocean.
“Yes, and my sister called to make sure I recognized the congratulations came with stipulations,” he sighs.
I wasn’t na?ve enough to think Charlie’s grand gesture meant anything to The Syndicate. And although he’s ruffled a few feathers—namely Clara and Lucia’s—Emily assured me that no one intends on voting against us. As long as we play nice and have a big Costa wedding.
“All right,” I agree, wandering further down the display. “We’ve got to find something today, though. Ana’s appointment is in the morning, and I want her to know I’m focused on her.”
His lips find my temple as I scan the last case in the row. They’re all so gorgeous and bright, and I’m fighting a little smile as I lean in closer.
“We really do have a theme,” Charlie chuckles, scanning the row of rubies, garnets, and rose quartz set in shades of gold.
“Seems fitting to replace the thread,” I say, catching the eye of the jeweler who is giving us some privacy.
I ask him to show us the lab-grown options, and he shuffles through the gems, picking through options and holding them out to us to examine.
Finally, my eye catches on a pear-shaped ruby surrounded by little clusters of diamonds.
“It looks like you,” Charlie mutters as the jeweler hands it to me. The shining gold nearly twinkles in my palm as I hold it. Charlie asks him more questions, but I can’t help but slip it on my finger to see how it looks.
“Okay, I changed my mind,” I say, twisting my hand and watching the light reflect in the little angles of the stones. “I love engagement rings.”
“You’re sure?”
“Totally sure.”
Ana doesn’t really look like she believes Dr. Mya. Or she’s afraid to. But Dr. Mya is undeterred.
“Your biopsy came back negative for all evidence of cancer.” They grab my sister by her shoulders and squeeze, looking her directly in the eyes. “But yes, Banana. You are cancer free.”
The relief I feel is indescribable. I don’t want to cry, but I feel like every bit of guilt and fear that has been holding me up for the last six months has been released. I’d give anything for her to never have gone through this, but it’s over. My muscles feel unraveled, and if Charlie didn’t have his arm around me, holding me up, I’m not sure if I’d still be standing.
The more Dr. Mya talks, the more Ana seems to realize that this is real. Her hard expression melts inch by inch, her careful, neutral frown slowly morphing into a smile. She’d walked into this office like she was ready for her doctor to have lied, prepared to hear that the radiation therapy didn’t work, that she was one of the miniscule number of people who had worse outcomes. She had held her head high, not holding my hand. Wanting to face this on her own.
But maybe without thinking, she reaches backwards as she listens to Dr. Mya. Charlie keeps his arm around my waist as I reach forward and cling to Ana’s hand.
When Dr. Mya leads us out of their office, Ana’s still holding back a little. Her smile’s still dimmed, her shoulders tense, arms wrapped around herself a little too tight. But as soon as the door closes, she turns to me and Charlie, tears welling in her eyes.
“Permission to say fuck?” she asks, her voice wobbling.
I choke out a laugh, feeling like I’m breathing for the first time since we walked into the hospital. Maybe since we came here for the first time, months and months ago.
“Permission granted.”
Her tears fall as she throws her arms around me. It’s not the first time I’ve felt like Ana was the thing holding me together.
“Thank fucking god, right?”
“Couldn”t have said it better myself, kid,” I say.
It really is over. There’s a tiny pit of fear in the bottom of my stomach that it’s too good to be true, that we can’t trust this news, but I try to battle it down. Ana is safe. Healthy and happy and safe.
“Perfect score on your SATs and a perfect score on your scans. What are we going to do with you?” Charlie asks, ruffling her hair.
She shakes him off, but wraps one arm around his middle and hugs him, too.
“I did not get a perfect SAT score,” she grumbles, latching on to my hand as we make our way to the elevator bank.
“A 1520 is nothing to downplay,” Charlie argues as we all ignore the creepy kid’s voice. “Carnegie’s going to be begging for you to accept their offer.”
Her cheeks turn red as she tells us about Gray’s scores and application requirements and deadlines, and I’m so fucking happy. She deserves this. She deserves good SAT scores, and summer college visits, and a distinct absence of cancer. She deserves all the good things coming to her. We both do.
Should have known it couldn’t last forever.
Because as we exit the elevator on the ground floor, a vaguely familiar voice rises from the front desk. My stomach’s already tying itself in a knot when I look toward the commotion. Where a redheaded woman in a sundress and an oversized hat is arguing with the security staff.
“Is that…” Ana asks, and I grip her hand and push her behind me.
Charlie’s already at my side, telling Ana we’ll handle it.
“She’s my daughter, and I have a right to see her if she’s dying,” Isabelle’s sharp voice rises over the muttering of the rest of the patients and visitors as we get closer.
I steel myself, ready for whatever nightmare my mother always brings.
“What are you doing here, mom?” I ask, keeping Ana squarely behind me. She must not want to see her, either, because she’s not making her presence known.
“Guinevere, thank goodness. Tell these people I’m Morgana’s mother,” she sighs, dragging her manicured nails through her hair.
I hate that I picked that habit up from her. Pressing my nails into my skin, too.
“We were just leaving. We’ll take Ms. Byrne with us,” Charlie says, laying the accent on thick as he placates the check-in staff.
I don’t know how she missed him before, but Isabelle’s suddenly assessing him like he’s a target, a prize.
“Jesus Christ, mother, come on,” I say, shooing her toward the exit.
Ana must peek her head around, because our mother lets out an exaggerated gasp.
“Oh, my baby Morgana,” she cries, pushing past me to wrap Ana in her arms.
I’m so shocked I barely have time to react, but before I can pull Isabelle off of her, Ana shakes her head, grimacing at me. Her hand is still in mine.
She’s telling me to leave it. Brave of her.
“Hi, mom,” she says quietly, and it pinches my heart a little.
Isabelle barely knows her. Doesn’t know that she doesn’t like being called Morgana. Doesn’t know about her surgeries and scars.
“Mom, she’s got some skin irritation. Please be careful,” I chide, and she whips around to look at me, dropping her daughter.
“Well, how would I even know that? I have no information! I had to hear from someone other than you that my baby girl was sick,” Isabelle scoffs.
“I haven’t had a working phone number for you for years,” I shoot back, trying to keep my tone neutral. “How exactly would you have expected me to contact you?”
“You didn’t even try,” my mother accuses
“Why don’t we take this outside so we don’t bother the other patients, yes?” Charlie suggests, and I look around to see plenty of eyes on us.
Isabelle agrees easily, putting her arm around Ana, cooing things like poor baby and my daughter.
When we get outside, the sticky heat nearly unbearable, Ana shrugs off Isabelle’s arm and finds her way to Charlie’s side. Through the anger rising under my skin, there’s some little part of me that’s so fucking happy I picked someone she could trust.
“I apologize that I didn’t make more of an effort to contact you, but you really didn’t provide a lot of options. I’ve had the same phone number since I was thirteen. You could have called any time.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ana grab on to Charlie’s arm. Fuck, this was supposed to be a great day for her.
“Maybe we should let your sister and mom talk,” Charlie offers, and I know he’s already halfway to calling Zane to whisk Ana away. But Isabelle cuts in before any of us can move.
“I’m not letting you leave with my baby,” Isabelle cries, accusation lacing her tone.
“She’s sixteen, mom. And Charlie is my husband. She’s safe with him.” I’m trying to keep myself controlled and careful, but I can already feel the range slipping in.
“Oh yes, I’ve heard about your husband,” she sneers, glancing at my brand new ring and turning to look at Ana. “See, she tells you I’m a terrible mom, but look at her.”
My heart stills in my chest, my rage bordering on wrath now.
“What exactly is that supposed to mean?” I demand from Isabelle. I can feel Charlie’s presence right behind me.
“You’re a hypocrite,” she accuses, honest to god tears welling in her eyes. “You judge me for dating a few guys, trying to build a life for you two, when you’ve done so much worse.”
She knows. I have no idea how she knows, but she does. My anger is laced with panic now, because I can see this crash ahead of us, and I have no way to stop it.
“What’s she talking about, Ginny?” Ana asks, her voice small and almost afraid.
“We can talk about it later,” Charlie mutters at her, but Isabelle’s not having it.
I have no idea what she gets out of this, ruining this for Ana and me, but she’s sure committed to the bit.
“When did your sister tell you she was seeing Charlie?” she asks, her eyes glaring at her youngest daughter.
“Mother, enough.” I demand, but Ana’s looking at me with her brow furrowed, and I can feel my heart breaking in my chest. She’s going to hate me.
“February. After my surgery.” I close my eyes, trying to collect myself.
“And how long did she say they had been together?” If that’s fucking glee I can detect in Isabelle’s voice, Charlie’s going to have to do a stellar job of convincing me not to kill her.
“Ana, you don’t have to listen to this,” Charlie offers, and when she turns to him, I can already see the pain replacing trust.
“Six months.” Her voice is small, timid, nothing like the Ana I know.
“Strange, then, that your father called to tell me that Guinevere offered to crawl into his bed over dinner in February. An odd thing to do, for a woman in love.”
Isabelle’s words hit their mark, even if they’re half a lie. I don’t know who’s embellishing—Ben or Isabelle—but there will be consequences. I have no reservations about ripping Ben limb from limb.
“I don’t understand,” Ana says, waiting for me to meet her gaze before she continues. “Why were you at dinner with Ben?”
“It’s not what she’s say—” I start, but my mother speaks right over me, and I can see Charlie restraining himself from lashing out at her.
“For money, of course,” she laughs, like it’s something funny. Like destroying her daughters in front of her is a game. “She’s told you how awful I am for dating men with money, and she goes to your own father, offering herself up for some cash.”
Ana and I can only stare at each other. I watch her put together the pieces, retrace the timeline in her mind.
“You promised me.” But she’s not talking to me. She turns to Charlie, shaking his hand off her shoulder. “You promised me you weren’t here because you pitied the cancer kid.”
“Ana…” I start, but tears start flowing as Ana whips around.
“You promised me, too, that you weren’t changing your life for me.” She crosses her arms over her chest, her glare so familiar I know it’s a twin to mine. “You lied to me. We don’t lie to each other.”
“It’s complicated, Ana,” I start again, my own tears welling in my eyes. But she just shakes her head, unwilling to accept that.
“I’m done being fucking lied to.” She turns to Charlie, and I know he won’t be able to keep the truth from her. “Did you give my sister money for my treatment?”
He looks at me, and I can see him asking for forgiveness. But it’s not needed. Ana’s right, she deserves the truth, or as much of it as we can give her.
“Yes,” he admits, and pain flashes through her eyes. She twists back to face me.
“Did he force you to sleep with him in exchange for the money?”
My eyes pop open, panic taking over and constricting my chest. I try to reach out for her, but she pulls away.
“No.” I leave no room for second guessing. “Charlie and I came to an arrangement. He helped with the cost of treatment, and I agreed to eventually marry him. But I promise,” I emphasize, my voice cracking, “I promise you I really do love him. This started out as something else, and I’m sorry I lied to you, but I’m telling you the truth now.”
Ana shakes her head, and I don’t know if it’s in disbelief or because she’s overwhelmed.
“Oh, please,” Isabelle cuts in. “You can’t exactly trust her.”
Charlie glares at Isabelle, the promise of a long, painful death obvious in his eyes. But it’s Ana who speaks up.
“And I can trust you?” she demands, and Isabelle looks shocked. “I haven’t seen you in years, and the first thing you tell me is that my sister is a liar and a hypocrite. You don’t ask about me, or my treatment. You don’t know anything about me. I don’t know why you’re here, but I don’t want you here.” She points to me, still sobbing, and I feel like my heart’s been ripped to shreds and shoved back in my chest. “She raised me. This is totally fucked, and I’m going to be mad about it for a long time, but I know she loves me.”
Ana steps back from all of us, grabbing the hem of her t-shirt and wiping her eyes.
“I need some space, and I need her gone,” Ana declares, waving off Isabelle.
Would be my fucking pleasure.
“Do you want me to call the McCallums?” I ask, my voice tight and wobbling with the effort not to cry.
“I can take the damn bus. Or I’m sure you can just call the lady who follows me around at school all the time?” She huffs at our bewildered looks, throwing her bag over her shoulder. “I’m not an idiot, guys. I assumed she was there because of Charlie’s work with the Foundation, but that’s probably a lie, too.”
Guilt slices at my chest, but I try to keep my face neutral.
“Please tell us next time you suspect someone”s following you,” Charlie asks, and she glares at him.
“Please tell me next time you decide to get in some weird arranged marriage with my sister so she can afford my cancer treatments, how about that?” she yells, throwing her hands up in the air. “Do you realize how ridiculous this all sounds? I’m going to Gray’s and I’m only communicating with you two via his mom until further notice.”
Ana makes her way to the bus stop, and I double check her location is still on while Charlie calls Lily and gives her instructions.
“What exactly was your goal here, mom?” I ask, exhaustion taking over my body as I turn to Isabelle.
The urge to kill her for hurting Ana fades as I see the pain in her eyes. She’s hurt that Ana walked away. Charlie slides closer to me, and I feel just a little more calm.
“I was worried about my daughters!” my mother exclaims, just a little too over the top to be honest. “Ben got a hold of me in Marseille and told me about your little stunt.”
“Jesus Christ, you don’t actually believe him, do you?” I implore, begging her to see. But Isabelle just raises her eyebrows impatiently. “When Ana got sick, I came to Ben and asked for the money to help his daughter. Because he’s her father, and that’s what he should do. And he said he’d give me the money if I was his mistress. Said something about wanting to test out the newest model.”
The words hit Isabelle like a slap across the face. She only allows herself to be stunned for a moment, pushing her hair out of her face and rearranging her features into something like disdain.
“You’re lying. You’re covering so your new meal ticket won’t turn on you.” She sounds like she truly believes it, too.
I turn my head up and catch Charlie’s gaze, and it’s a balm to the ache in my chest that there’s no distrust or fear in his eyes. He knows Isabelle, or Ben, is lying.
“Is Ben still married? Because he was four months ago.” Isabelle flinches again, and I soften my tone a bit. “I know there was a time when all you wanted was for us to have everything. That you were trying to provide for us. And I’m sorry for being angry at you for that. I understand better now the lengths you’ll go for someone you love.” I take a deep breath and reach for my mom’s hand. “But at some point, your priorities changed. And I’ll never apologize for getting Ana out of that environment.”
Isabelle only huffs more, snapping her hand to her chest. And I’m not angry, not for her inability to understand. Just for the way she hurt us in the process.
“I’m going to call Linda and let her know what’s headed her way,” I say to Charlie before tugging him down so I can whisper in his ear. “Please don’t kill her. I have a plan.”
He kisses me softly, and even though my heart is in shreds, I know he’ll figure out how to piece it back together.