Page 94 of Wedlocked

“No,” I said instantly. After this morning, I didn’t want to give Em any reason to worry. I was fine. I could handle a little nostalgia over my sister. “I’m fine, honestly.”

Landry agreed but seemed a little unsure.

I smiled, hoping I didn’t look deranged. “Mind if I wash my hands before we start?”

“Of course,” Jess said.

I laid aside the needle and went into the bathroom. I avoided the mirror, afraid I’d see that haunted look in my eyes from before.

When I came back, Landry and Rory were gone. “Where’d they go?” I panicked, thinking Landry went to get Em.

“They heard the guys come in downstairs and went to see them.”

“Oh. Did you want to go…?”

“No. I want to do this.”

“Okay. It shouldn’t take very long,” I said, grabbing the first button and needle and thread.

Jess turned, making sure her hair was out of my way, and then I set aside my supplies to grab a couple pins, deciding to pin the fabric where the buttons would go.

Once that was done, I got to work on the first button.

“So do you like sewing?” Jess asked.

“Mm.” I agreed. “Yeah. I’m still learning. I’m better with a sewing machine. I’m best at sketching and design, though.”

“Madison told me your drawing is beautiful.”

I paused. “She did?”

“Yeah, the costume sketches you did for the theater department were the best she’s seen, she said.”

I wasn’t sure what to do with the compliment, so I focused on sewing the button without stabbing Jess.

I was starting the second button when she spoke again. “Feels a little weird to be doing this without a mom.”

My fingers fumbled and dropped the needle. It dangled from the thread already attached to the gown.

“Feels sort of like some of the traditions that go with a wedding don’t really apply to me.”

The old, new, borrowed, and blue. “Guess you weren’t too busy to remember,” I said quietly.

“Is the mind ever really too busy to remember things that are hurtful?”

My heart pinched at those softly spoken solemn words.

“I was thinking of my sister before,” I blurted out.

Her back moved, but then she went still once more, and I continued sewing.

“Brynne, right?”

“You remember her name?”

“She’s family.”

A lick of hot anger rose in me, and I pulled back from the button. “You didn’t know her.”