Page 14 of Trapped By the Bratva
She laughed lightly. “Emily and I are doing very well.”
“Oh, I miss seeing her. I missed both of you. How is she?”
“Oh, she’s a handful, as ever.”
I smiled, overjoyed to hear it.
“She seems excited to have a new baby brother or sister, but I bet there will be an adjustment period.”
I laughed along with her. “Oh, I’m happy for you. Congratulations again.”
“How are you doing?” she asked. While she still smiled, some of the enthusiasm in her gaze dimmed. Worry replaced it.
“I…” I nodded then shrugged, breaking eye contact with her for a moment. Humiliation rose within me. Shame and sadness, too. I never liked to waste my energy on emotions like jealousy or envy, but they crept in. It was hard to keep from frowning.
Seeing her so unexpectedly threw me off. And witnessing how happy and content she was hit a sore spot. I was already so down from discovering Melissa took my secret savings that I was perilously close to breaking down.
“I…” I sighed, hating the burn of tears behind my lids. I blinked faster, trying to hold them off. Inevercried. Ever. Life was too short to spend them in tears.
“Oh, Han,” she said, lifting her arms to wrap me in another hug.
I shook my head, sniffling and looking between us. She looked so pretty in a new dress, her hair so smooth, makeup on point. I felt frumpy and filthy. Still in my scrubs and the messiest bun ever, I felt too grungy to accept her compassion.
“It can’t be that bad,” she said. “Can it?”
I wiped under my eyes, hating the moisture there. “Yeah, actually, yeah. It is.”
She settled for taking my hand and squeezing it. “Come sit with me.”
I focused on steadying my breath as she led me to a bistro table near the hospital. The outdoor café area was way too pricy for me, but I bet no one would kick a pregnant lady out of sitting down for a moment.
“Is it your sister?” she asked once we sat.
That suited man followed us over, but he stood off to the side again. I furrowed my brow, glancing at him and wondering what was up.
“Is that your boyfriend?” I pointed at him.
She laughed once. “No.”
“Then who?—”
She reclaimed my hand and held it in hers. “Don’t change the subject.”
“I wasn’t. Not really. If he’s stalking you or something, then I’ll…” I frowned at him again. He was close enough to hear me and still looked stoic about my discussing his presence.
“You always changed the subject when I asked about Melissa,” Becca said. She spoke firmly, like an older sister could, but not meanly.
“Because I never want to talk about her, much less think about her.”
“She’s still the same, huh?”
I lowered my gaze, ashamed again. “No. Even worse.” I’d never hesitated to tell Becca about my sister. She was easy to confidein. But these were my problems. Not hers. “I don’t want to drag you down. Don’t worry about it.”
“Don’t worry?” She rolled her eyes playfully but with sarcasm. “You never cry.”
I shrugged. “I’m just burned out, stressed from working so much.”
“And studying?” She smiled. “You’ve got to be so happy this close to graduation.”
