Of every possible sentence, that was the one he chose.
“What am I doing home?”
His face changed.
“Marla, listen—”
“How long?”
Nadia started crying immediately.
“Please let us explain.”
“Us?”
I looked at her.
“There’s an ‘us’?”
Silence.
Then Nadia whispered:
“A few months.”
Something inside me went cold.
“A few months.”
“It wasn’t planned.”
I laughed once.
No humor in it.
She continued.
“It just happened.”
Of course.
Affairs always seemed to “just happen” when the people involved wanted to avoid saying they had repeatedly chosen them.
Then Nadia said something I will never forget.
“Sometimes you find your true love in the last place you expect.”
I stared at my sister.
“Your true love.”
She looked down.
I thought about every hospital appointment.
Every night I sat beside Valerie.
Every message Zion sent asking, “How’s Mom?”
Every time Nadia called me and asked whether I needed anything.
“You smiled in my face while you were sleeping with my husband.”
“Marla—”
“No.”
I turned to Zion.
“And you could have been spending those months with your dying mother.”
His expression tightened.
“You disgust me.”
I went upstairs.
Zion followed.
“You can’t leave like this.”
I pulled a suitcase from the closet.
“Watch me.”
“What about Mom?”
My hands stopped.
I slowly turned around.
He realized immediately what he had done.
“What did you just say?”
“I didn’t mean—”
“You’re using your dying mother to keep me here?”
“No.”
“Then what did you mean?”
He had nothing.
That night, I left my husband.
But I did not leave Valerie.
She had not betrayed me.
Whatever her son had done was not her fault.
So the next morning, I went back to her house.
And I continued taking care of her.
Neither Zion nor I told her about the affair.
At least, I believed we hadn’t.
Valerie noticed something was wrong.
Of course she did.
One afternoon, she watched me make tea in her sunroom.
“You’re angry.”
“I’m tired.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
I smiled faintly.
“What happened?”
I hesitated.
“Nadia and I had a fight.”
Valerie studied my face.
“What kind?”
“Normal sister stuff.”
She remained quiet long enough to make me uncomfortable.
Then she said:
“Whatever happens after I’m gone, don’t let anyone convince you that kindness makes you stupid.”
I frowned.
“Where did that come from?”
“Nowhere.”
“Valerie.”
She waved one hand.
“I’m allowed to say mysterious things. I’m dying.”
I laughed despite myself.
I thought the medication was making her emotional.
Three weeks later, Valerie died.
I was beside her near the end.
Zion was there too.
So was Nadia.
The irony made me physically ill.
At the funeral, people thanked me for taking such good care of Valerie.
Zion stood beside me accepting condolences.
Nadia stayed close to him.
