Chapter Forty
Quinn
M y mind whirls as Bram’s gaze bores into mine.
He loves me? Warmth begins to spread throughout my chest.
But he also admitted to being in love with Lois at one time.
The thought is like a bucket of ice water dousing the sparks his words of love tried to ignite.
“When?” I whisper, studying his face.
His brow wrinkles. “When what?”
“When did you know you didn’t love Lois?”
Guilt. It’s written all over his face sending a stab of pain through me.
“Did you marry me when you were still in love with Lois?”
“Q”— he drops his hands from my face to scrub one down his own—“I married you when I thought I loved Lois. I realize now that I never loved her at all. Not like that. Not like I do you.”
Crossing my arms, I try to process all he’s told me. “So would you have married me if Lois hadn’t come home married to Chad?” It’s not a completely fair question. We wouldn’t have gotten married without my diabetes diagnosis anyway. But this? This is different.
His face falls, and it’s all the answer I need. A gaping hole fills my chest as I swallow back tears. How am I ever going to get over this? Get over him?
I turn back to my suitcase, trying to think of what else I need to stay with Mom until . . .
Burying my face in my hands, I begin to weep. I don’t want a divorce. I don’t even want a separation. But I hurt. So much.
“Quinn—”
A knock on the front door interrupts whatever Bram is about to say.
“You better get that,” I say weakly. “It’s probably Jett.”
He hesitates and starts to open his mouth.
“I’m meeting Lois early.” Facing my sister is the last thing I want to do right now. The woman my husband was in love with for years. But as much as I want to trust Bram’s words that he never really loved her, I need to hear the truth from her mouth as well.
I grab my purse, ignoring the open suitcase on the bed taunting me. It would be so easy to take it with me, just in case.
Bram lays a gentle hand on my arm, and I stiffen. “Can we talk later?” Another knock.
Tears brim my eyes, and I can’t bear to meet his gaze. “Get the door, Bram. I’ll see you tonight.”
His hand drops, and I hate that I immediately miss his touch. I quickly dry my eyes as I follow him out of the bedroom, making a pit stop in the kitchen to grab one of my protein bars. No need for Jett to see me like this.
Voices echo down the hallway, one familiar voice earning a groan from me. Titus.
I’ve got to get out of here. Quick.
Snatching a protein bar, I slip it into my purse and turn around to try and sneak out and smack right into a solid brick wall.
Okay. Not a brick wall. But Titus’s chest. Which is pretty much the same thing.
“Oh. Uh. Hi,” I stammer, avoiding eye contact with my brother-in-law as I try to slide around him.
Titus crosses his arms, not budging. “What did he do?”
My head snaps up, meeting his glare. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I try to infuse my voice with my usual cheeriness, but it falls flat.
His eyes narrow as his gaze flicks across my face. “I know my brother. He wouldn’t look me in the eye and was acting shifty. Now I find you in here crying.” He arches a brow. “So, Quinn, what did my idiot brother do so I know how much of a beating I need to give him?”
Sighing, my shoulders droop. “It’s fine, Titus. Really. I’m on my way to meet Lois. I’ll see you later, okay?”
He grunts and steps aside, but just as I start to pass him, he lays his hand on my arm. Glancing up, I almost cry again with the compassion reflecting in his eyes. “Quinn, whatever is going on, you two will work it out. I’m here if you need to talk it out. Or if you need me to knock some sense into my dimwitted brother. Okay?”
I nod, wrapping my hand around his. Squeezing, I offer him a shaky smile, grateful for his friendship. “Thanks, Ty.”
“You’ve hardly touched your food,” Lois notes as she takes another bite of her parfait.
Nausea pools in my stomach as I pick at my raspberry scone. I’ve been sitting here listening to Lois rattle on about everything she’s going to do while she and Chad are traveling over the next few months. She landed a contract with a camping gear company, and they’re sending the newlyweds on a six-month adventure through the States. She’ll also be able to continue writing for the lifestyle magazine. I’m happy for her, I am. But I also want answers.
“Do you love him?” I ask, dropping the scone back onto my plate.
Lois frowns. “Of course, I love him. I married him, didn’t I?”
“Not Chad.” I cross my arms and lean back. “Bram.”
I expect her eyes to widen and for her to start choking on her food—not that I want her to choke, not really. Instead, she inhales a deep breath, wipes her mouth with her napkin, and sets down her spoon. Steepling her fingers together, she leans forward.
“No. I don’t love Bram.” Her words do nothing to comfort me.
“But you did?” I challenge.
Lois shakes her head. “No, Quinn. Bram has only ever been a friend to me. But”—she pauses and sighs— “I know how he felt about me. And that he married you for the insurance.”
“What? How did you find out?”
“I overheard you talking to Julie about it. And then . . . well, I confronted Bram about it.”
“Great. This is just perfect,” I mumble, tears filling my eyes. “My husband is in love with my sister.”
“Nothing happened, Quinn. And he is not in love with me.”
I arch a brow at her. “You never kissed him?”
She shakes her head again. “Nothing more than a hug and peck on the cheek. The same I’ve done with Cyrus and Titus.”
“Yeah, well, you’ve done a lot more with Cyrus.”
Her features turn to ice. “I know how horrible I am, Quinn. No need to be constantly reminding me of how much of a black sheep I am.”
Regret grips me. “I’m sorry, Lois.”
We’re silent for a moment before she says, “You know I’ve changed, right?”
“Have you?” I ask, wincing as soon as the words are out of my mouth.
Sorrow fills her eyes. “You haven’t given me the chance to prove it to you.”
Frustration overtakes me. “And when should I have done that, Lois? When you were across the ocean, trekking through Europe? Or when you and Chad are out filming content for your social all day long while I work all day, and then get off and have to make two suppers every night?”
“Maybe you should let someone help you for once in your life. Instead, you are a control freak that always has to be in charge.”
I scoff. “Lois, if I waited for you to take the initiative to help Mom, she’d have lost the house years ago.”
Huffing, Lois shakes her head in disbelief. “You don’t give anyone a chance, Quinn.”
“You never asked,” I say in exasperation.
Letting out a sad sigh, Lois replies, “I know I should have been more vocal about helping. That’s on me. But Quinn, it’s hard to feel like my help is needed when you’ve got it all down pat. I want to help Mom, and I have been. But anytime I start to suggest something different, you shut me down.”
My brow puckers. “I don’t.”
“You do. I don’t know if you realize it. I know a lot of it is probably because it’s so routine for you now, but you don’t give me the opportunity to try new things. Quinn, I know you blame me for Dad’s accident, but sometimes I wonder if you feel just as guilty as I do about that night. Because it sure feels like you're trying to atone for something.” Her gaze pierces me. “When I do try to step in, you brush me off. And sometimes”—she sucks in a deep breath— “sometimes I think you hate me because of the accident.”
Pain slices my heart with each word. Didn’t I confess to Bram how hard it was for me to be around Lois? Is everything she’s saying true? Have I been bulldozing over her in an attempt to ease my own guilt? I think about the moments Lois offered to help—no matter how small—but I’d pushed her aside because she wasn’t doing it the correct way. Or the times that instead of waiting for her to offer, I’ve just stepped in to do it myself. Is she right? Have I been using helping my family as a way to make up for my part in Dad’s accident?
“Lois, I don’t hate you.”
She sniffs and wipes at her eyes, giving a bitter chuckle. “Well, I wouldn’t blame you because I hate myself most of the time.” Her eyes meet mine. “But I am trying, Q. I know I’ll never be perfect—”
“No one’s perfect,” I interject.
She gives a grateful smile. “But I have changed. God’s changed me. And He’s reminding me every day that I can’t carry the guilt about Dad.” Reaching for my hand, she squeezes it. “And you can’t either. We would both make different choices if we could go back. But we can’t. Living with guilt isn’t going to help either of us or those around us. Our guilt won’t bring Dad back. Let go, Q.”
Tears spill out of my eyes as I grasp her hand. “I’m sorry, Lois. For everything. I’ve been holding on to the mistakes you made and not seeing who you’re becoming. I shouldn’t have been so quick to judge.” I take a deep breath. “I didn’t realize I was trying to control everything. It just has felt necessary for so long.”
“I know. I’m sorry for putting all that on you when I checked out during college and then left for Europe.”
We talk for a few more minutes and cry a little, both of us laying out all our hurts on the table. Apologizing to one another. Forgiving one another.
Finally, I have to bring the conversation back to where it started. Rolling in my lips, I ask, “Lois, are you sure you and Bram never kissed?”
“I’m sure.”
I hum thoughtfully, taking a sip of my now cold latte.
“Quinn, what’s going on?”
Hanging my head, I trace a finger along the napkin in front of me. “I heard Bram talking to someone on the phone,” I admit softly. “I thought he said he’d married the wrong sister.”
“Oh.”
“He says he didn’t.”
“You don’t believe him?”
I sigh heavily. “No, I do. But I’m just so hurt and angry.” Queasiness has made it impossible to eat, and talking about Bram and Lois only increases the feeling. I press a hand to my stomach, praying I don’t throw up.
“Quinn, Bram never truly loved me.”
I meet her eyes. “That’s what he said.”
Lois smiles. “It’s true. Bram saw what he wanted to see and fell in love with that image of me. But it wasn’t me and never will be.” She tilts her head. “Does he love you?”
Biting my lip, I nod. “He said he does.” And I would have believed him just this morning. But after finding out how he used to feel about Lois, I can’t stop the uncertainty from whispering in my ear that he’s lying.
“And you love him?”
My mind wanders back over the past few months and how it’s felt growing closer to Bram. Being held by him. Kissed by him. I can’t deny how deep my feelings are for him, no matter how hurt I am. It’s those feelings that make his dishonesty so painful. “Yeah. I do.”
“Did you tell him?”
I shake my head. “No. I was too upset to think.” My cheeks warm. “I started packing a bag.”
Lois’s eyes soften, and I wonder where this version of my sister has been for years. “You should go home and talk to him. And unpack the bag, Quinn.”
Thirty minutes later, I’m hugging Lois goodbye, feeling as if I’ve finally gotten the sister I’ve always wanted. And praying she feels the same way about me. Maybe this is the start of us having a closer relationship. I pray so.
Sliding into my car, my hands shake as I grip the steering wheel. A headache is developing, and all I want to do is go home, crawl into bed, and forget this day ever happened.
Though I know with God’s grace, Bram and I can work through this, I’m still not ready to face him. I’m not emotionally ready to talk through everything with him. The betrayal is too fresh. My emotions too raw.
I inhale a deep breath, steadying my nerves for the conversation to come. I pray God will show us a way back to one another, and that He will take the pain and hurt away.