Page 53 of Carter

She twists her ring. “I thought I was going to be next.”

I move my hand to the tabletop. Drum my fingertips on the table, keeping my cool. “It doesn’t matter who goes first.”

“I’ve been in the Village long enough,” she says quietly. “Paige walks in and somehow she fits. Mary adores her. Bronson looks at her like she invented oxygen. Everyone calls her sweet and brave and perfect for this family.”

I lean back. “This is not about Mary loving Paige.”

Her shoulders drop. “No.”

“It is about you being afraid there is a right kind of Bachman woman and Paige makes it look easy.”

She looks away. “I hate that you know me that well.”

I say, “You chose to have the long engagement.”

“I know.”

I say, “Paige did not take anything from you. She found her place. You are still allowed to find yours.”

Sasha rubs her thumb over the edge of her ring. “I know. I just wish I didn’t feel like everyone got a manual except me.”

“Then stop competing with Paige long enough to let her be your sister.”

Her mouth twists. “That sounded annoyingly wise.”

“I have my moments. And for the record, Paige has spent the last week helping with your youth-program fundraiser because you asked for extra hands. She is not your replacement.”

Guilt flickers across Sasha’s face.

Good. Not because I want her ashamed, but because I want her honest.

In the past I would have tried to buy the feeling away with a trip or a gift. That would only teach both of us to avoid the real problem.

Not this time.

“Help Paige with the wedding if you want to,” I say. “But I’m not ordering you to be her friend. I want whatever you do next to be yours.”

Sasha is quiet for a long moment. “I need to apologize to her first.”

There she is—the woman beneath the defenses.

I still intend to address the way she spoke to me during this argument, because our dynamic has rules. But kindness cannot be spanked into a person. That choice has to belong to Sasha.

It’s come time for our little chat.

“Baby girl. I’ve tried talking to you. I’ve told you where I stand. I’ve made it clear what’s expected of you.”

She says nothing. Just stares down at her ring.

I stand from my seat, looming over her. “Upstairs. Now.”

Her eyes widen. Her lips try to form a protest.

I stop her before I can speak. With one raise of my brow.

She hurries up the stairs to our room.

I follow behind her. We enter the bedroom. She stands beside the bed. Already looking docile.