Page 102 of Love Arranged

So today, during my lunch break, I seek her out at the office she shares with Julian. Compared to the rest of the modern office, my sister’s private one fits her personality to a T, with warm wood tones, bookshelves full of design samples, and a trendy wallpaper that adds a touch of personality to the space.

Dahlia looks up from her tablet when I knockon the door.

“Hey. Isn’t this a surprise.”

“Brought you some lunch.” I hold up a paper bag from her favorite sushi place in town. It’s nothing fancy like Julian’s imported rolls from Aomi, but Dahlia will never turn down a food-related peace offering.

She waves at the chair across from her desk. “To what do I owe this visit?”

I pull out one container and pass it to her. “I miss my sister.”

“We live together, dork.”

“Yeah, well, if it weren’t for the lack of hot water at night, I would’ve forgotten you moved back in.”

She snorts as she pops the lid off, and I grab my box and place it on top of her desk.

“Tell me how to fix this,” I say before stuffing a roll into my mouth.

“For a while there, I was mad at you.” She snaps her chopsticks at me.

“I could tell.”

She drops her gaze. “But eventually I turned that anger inward.”

“Why?”

“Because how could I not notice that my sister was in love? How could I be so focused on myself and my own love life that I didn’t think to ask more questions about yours?”

Guilt hits me harder than ever before because I hate that Dahlia is taking this out on herself.

“Dahlia…” I try to work up the courage to tell her the truth, but what she says next makes me pause.

“I’m the one who’s sorry, Lily.” She glances up at mewith a trembling bottom lip. “I’m sorry for not being a good sister.”

“Who needs a good one when you’re the best one?”

She laughs to herself. “I don’t feel like that lately.”

Neither do I.

I decide to put the past behind us and hope she wants to do the same. “Can we stop avoiding each other now?”

She nods.

“Great, because I was wondering if you wanted to go shopping this weekend for the fundraiser gala?”

Her eyes light up. “It’s been so long since we’ve gone shopping together.”

“Yeah. I’m thinking we could make a day out of it.”

Her gaze dips to my clothes—a simple black cotton dress and a jean jacket—before her entire face lights up. “You know what? Ilovethat idea.”

A shopping trip might not cure my guilty conscience, but some retail therapy always does wonders for the soul, and mine is in desperate need of a little pick-me-up.

The next morning, I pause working on a floral wreath for a funeral to answer an incoming call from my sister.

“Hey. What’s up?” I ask.