Chapter 10: The Question
The hum of the vintage radio was a soft, staticky blanket over the kitchen’s quiet. Andi traced the rim of her coffee mug, the ceramic warm against her fingertips. The last dregs of the party clung to the air—a sweet ghost of champagne, the dense, buttery scent of leftover wedding cake sitting under a glass dome on the counter. It was a good tired, the kind that settled deep in your bones after a day filled with real joy.
Sarah moved around the space with a quiet ownership, putting away clean glasses from the drying rack. Her blonde hair was down, messy from a long day of celebration, and she’d swapped her bridesmaid dress for one of Ben’s old t-shirts and soft shorts. She leaned back against the counter, cradling her own mug, and watched Andi. Her gaze was a physical weight.
“So,” Sarah said, her voice cutting easily through the radio’s murmur. “When are you moving in with him?”
Andi choked. The coffee went down the wrong pipe, a hot, punishing rush that sent her into a coughing fit, her eyes streaming. She thumped her own chest, gasping for air. “What? Jesus, Sarah.”
Sarah didn’t smile. She just took a slow sip, her eyes sharp and amused over the rim of her mug. “Come on. The way you two were orbiting each other all day? You think no one noticed? You’d look for him the second he left your side. And that dress you wore to dinner last week? The blue one? That wasn’t for any of us.”
Andi’s heart hammered against her ribs. She felt exposed, peeled open under the bright, unforgiving light of her sister-in-law’s perception. Sarah had always seen things, the subtle currents moving beneath the family’s surface. “It’s… it’s new,” Andi managed, her voice still rough from coughing.
“It’s not new,” Sarah corrected gently. “It’s just not a secret anymore. At least, not from me. I’ve known for, what, two months? Since you started ‘helping him with his website’ and came home smelling like his cologne.” She set her mug down with a soft click. “You forget, I do your laundry.”
Andi stared into her coffee, the liquid dark and swirling. She remembered the feel of Matt’s suit jacket around her shoulders, the weight and scent of it, after their date. She remembered the way he’d kissed her under the oak tree, a silent promise in the dark.
“Ben doesn’t know,” Andi said, the words a quiet confession.
“Ben sees what he wants to see. Which is his little sister and his best friend existing in separate, non-intersecting universes.” Sarah pushed off the counter and came to sit opposite Andi at the small kitchen table. “But he’s not stupid. He’ll figure it out. Or someone will tell him.” She leaned forward, her voice dropping, not in conspiracy, but in earnestness. “What are you doing, Andi?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?” The defensiveness was automatic, a flinch.
“It looks like you’re in love with him.”
The words landed in the quiet kitchen, immense and simple. They sucked the air out of the room. Andi couldn’t speak. She just looked at Sarah, her throat tight.
“I am,” she whispered. It was the first time she’d said it out loud to anyone, even to herself. The admission felt like stepping off a cliff.
Sarah nodded slowly, as if a hypothesis had been confirmed. “Okay. And he’s in love with you. It’s painfully obvious. So what’s the plan? You keep sneaking around? You think that’s fair to anyone? To Ben? To Matt? To you?”
“I don’t know!” Andi’s voice cracked. “It’s complicated. He’s… he’s Ben’s.”
“He’s a person, not a possession,” Sarah said, her tone firm but not unkind. “And he’s looked at you like you hung the moon for years. Everyone saw it but you. And Ben, apparently.”
Andi thought of the morning, just hours ago, the feeling of his hands in her hair, the raw trust in his eyes when he let go. She thought of the simple, terrifying rightness of flipping her phone over on the white tablecloth, silencing her brother’s call. She was choosing a side, and the side was Matt.
“I’m scared,” Andi admitted, the words small.
“Good. You should be. This will blow things up. But some things need to be blown up.” Sarah reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “Just don’t wait too long. Secrets like this get a life of their own. They get ugly.”
The back door opened, and Ben stumbled in, his tie loose and his grin lopsided. “There are my favorite girls.” He came up behind Sarah, wrapping his arms around her and nuzzling her neck. “What are you two conspiring about so seriously?”
Sarah’s eyes met Andi’s over her husband’s shoulder. A look of pure, unshakable understanding passed between them.
“Just life, honey,” Sarah said, her voice light and easy. “Andi was just telling me about a guy in her lit class.”
Ben chuckled, planting a sloppy kiss on Sarah’s cheek. “Good. As long as he’s not some loser.” He released her and ruffled Andi’s hair. “You deserve the best, kid.”
The kindness in his words, his total, blissful ignorance, felt like a physical blow. Andi forced a smile. “Yeah. I know.”
Ben wandered out, humming a tune from the reception, and the kitchen felt large and empty again. Sarah stood, taking both their mugs to the sink. “You should get some sleep.”
Andi nodded, pushing herself up from the table. Her legs felt unsteady. At the doorway, she paused. “Sarah?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks. For not… you know.”
Sarah didn’t turn around, just continued rinsing the mugs, the water steaming. “I’m not on his side, and I’m not on your side. I’m on the side of this family not imploding. But love’s a hell of a wrench to throw into the gears.” She finally looked over her shoulder, her expression unreadable. “Just be sure he’s worth the mess.”
Andi didn’t hesitate. “He is.”
She walked upstairs, the wooden steps creaking under her weight. In the quiet of the guest room, she pulled out her phone. She didn’t call. She just typed a single text message to Matt, the words a direct line to the sanctuary of his apartment, to the smell of his skin on his sheets.
I told Sarah.
The three dots appeared almost instantly. Then his reply.
Good. Come home.
She read the two words over and over. Home. He’d called his apartment home for her. She started packing her bag, her movements quick and sure now, the fear still there but overshadowed by a relentless, pulling need. The mess was coming. But he was waiting for her in the middle of it.