I will commit my soul to your door tonight, and I'll last 'til the gas fumes float on higher
Maybe this is what it means to be weak.
Maybe this is the final breaking of her spine underneath her own foot. Because her sister rages at her and she has no defense. She has nothing that she can say to make this better. To make it right. It doesn’t matter that she didn’t actively try to steal a man away from her sister. That she had no idea of the connection until her child was growing in her belly—until her heart had flooded with thoughts of him.
It didn’t matter because she had known and she had stayed silent.
She had known and she hadn’t been brave enough to tell them both.
So she accepts her sister’s vitriol and swallows it down. Takes the venom inside of her and lets it light her up like a torch. “I should have told you the second I realize,” she finally manages, her voice quiet, the tears silent and steady on her cheeks. “I should have tried to make it right. I should have done anything.”
But before she can continue, before she can say anything further, she sees the shape of him moving through the trees. She hates her heart for the way it swells and then clenches in her chest. Hates her heart for loving him, even now, even with all she knows. Even though she knows he does not and cannot love her. Even though she knows that he was her sister’s before she even knew his name.
Her heart does not care.
And it is this that sends her flying forward, teeth bared as she flings herself between her sister and Beth. Her eyes are wide with panic, pulse thumping wildly in her neck, but before she has to do anything, her sister pulls up short. Adna stands there, angled between them, breathing heavily, feeling her heart cracking in her chest as she listens to her sister pour out her hate toward him.
For a second, her sage green eyes slide to her daughter and there is an apology writ on her face, but she knows that Gospel is safe and her attention cannot stay there for long.
Instead, she just remains quiet and shaken, unsure of what to do or what to say.
in a dying love I'm nothing but a stone cold liar but, oh, I got an iron in that fire
