33. Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Three
Sisters by Bond
SAL
“So the painting is fine, and it’s with us now. But guess what?” Willow said on the phone. “By a miracle, we retrieved your phone too! That’s why we took so long. We had to make the extra stop.”
Sal gasped. “Oh my God, how?”
Sal could hear her smiling from the other end of the line. “Someone surrendered it to the lost and found at the National Museum of Fine Arts, and they called us just today. Isn’t that crazy?”
Sal placed her hand on her head, elated that someone had found her phone, and said with a wide smile, “I guess my luck is turning.”
“It sure is,” Willow said. “We’ll be there soon!”
“Bye,” she said, ending the call and placing the phone on the antique dresser. “Thanks for being a good replacement,” she whispered to it as she let out an enormous sigh of relief. Thank goodness, and to think she went nearly crazy when she thought someone had stolen it.
From the corner of her eye, she saw the navy-blue invite with the red wax seal Harmon had given her.
She pursed her lips and opened it. “Wow,” she mumbled with her brows raised, and sniffed it.
The invitation was even perfumed. Goodness, everything he did was teeming with subtle luxury.
“You are cordially invited to The Midnight Masters, a Museum Exhibition at the National Museum of Fine Arts opening night on November 15th.”
It was going to be held a full week before their art show, and based on the program and attached catalog, it wasn’t even similar to what Sal had in mind for her exhibition.
I guess everyone will have to be surprised.
Then she heard footsteps on the stairs and laughing, followed by Willow and Theola entering the room.
“We’re back,” Theola announced in a singsong voice.
“And the painting?” Sal asked.
“We dropped it off at the Wedding Gift House, and…” Theola pulled Sal’s old phone from her lilac handbag. “Here you go!” she said with a huge smile, handing it to her.
Sal felt a familiarity when she held it in her hands as she said, “Thanks, guys.”
“Don’t mention it,” Theola said. “Now I have to get back to the emails about all the negative press.” Theola excused herself and closed the door behind her.
Willow sat on the four-poster bed as she removed her shoes and jean jacket. “Hey, where’s that from?”
Sal looked at the invite and opened it again. “It’s an invitation to Harmon’s opening night. He’s holding a museum exhibit at the National Museum of Fine Arts,” she said, shrugging, and offered Willow a look.
“You got this today?” Willow asked as she took the invite from Sal’s hands.
“Yeah,” Sal replied, massaging her nape. “Imagine, he saw me in this outfit today, and still wanted to invite me.” She chuckled, referencing her joggers and plain black cropped tank under a knitted cardigan.
Willow gave her a cursory glance and rolled her eyes. “You look fine,” she said, then handed the invite to Sal. “Are you going?”
Sal tilted her head. “Yeah. It shows respect between colleagues.”
Willow slightly raised her brows and stared at Sal for a moment. She let out an exhale as she sat at the foot of the bed. “Hey, level with me,” she said, planting her palms on her knees. “You’re my best friend, and I didn’t want to ask because you’ve been so broken. But how are you and Rafa?”
Sal held her gaze and breathed in, letting the air settle here. “We’re taking a break. I’m having cold feet, I think, about being married,” she said, focusing her gaze elsewhere.
“Does it have anything to do with Harmon?” she asked in a tone so soft and compassionate that Sal felt like telling her everything. “You can tell me,” she assured her. “The same way I’ll tell you that Baron and I have a thing too. I’ll share anything you want to know.”
The tension immediately lifted. “You’re not going to judge me?” Sal asked, feeling ashamed again.
Willow gave a wry smile. “Never. That’s not how I roll, babe.”
In the safety of their shared space, Sal disclosed to Willow everything that had transpired between her and Harmon until that very afternoon. When she was done, Willow was wide-eyed.
“So what are you gonna do about Rafa?” Willow asked.
“I don’t know yet,” Sal said, “I love him, but he’s just so perfect, and I can’t do perfect anymore.
He wants the kids, the perfect wife, the white picket fence.
He wants me to move to Medina and help him run the business.
And it’s just like me and my parents all over again,” Sal whispered. “Being a people-pleaser sucks.”
“I see,” Willow responded while nodding slowly. “And Harmon’s in the picture because…?”
“I dunno. He just gets me, Will. He’s like me,” she sighed.
“But you only met Harmon a few months ago.”
“That’s what I can’t explain. He and I are so compatible. He excites me. I mean, he even loves books and appreciates art like I do. He challenges me. We have the same hurts, the same wounds, and I’m just drawn to him,” Sal said with a tone that sounded so desperate.
Willow slowly nodded and crossed her arms over her chest. “So Rafa is perfect and boring, and Harmon is new and exciting?” she asked. “Or are you just attracted to hot men with issues?”
Sal gave an amused huff. “Rafa has issues too,” she clarified. “With Rafa, I feel safe and loved, but with Harmon, I feel excited and alive. But I guess…it boils down to which path I choose.”
“It doesn’t have to be so black and white, you know.”
Sal nodded; she knew what Willow meant. It was so easy to think of everything in extremes.
If she chose Rafa, she’d have a stable, warm, and quiet life, but if she picked Harmon, she’d have a life of adventure and excitement, and she could continue reinventing herself with him.
But life wasn’t cut so cleanly, and no one truly knew what they were getting once they chose a path.
“In any case…” Willow commented, “I dunno how it feels to have two guys fawning over me, but I feel—what do you guys call it here?”
Sal smiled. “The kilig?” she answered.
Willow nodded. “Yes, that feeling, when Baron is inside me,” she said, smirking.
Sal laughed. “Oh, my God,” she said, catching her breath. “At least you’re not pressured into marrying him.”
“You got that right.” Willow paused, then gave her a thoughtful gaze and nodded slowly. “For what it’s worth, I think Rafa would understand. But the choice is still yours. I think it’s only fair that you tell him when you’ve decided,” Willow concluded. “I’ll support you whatever you decide.”
Sal hugged her best friend. “Thank you,” she said, tears welling up in her eyes, as Willow hugged her back.