Page 72 of Point of No Return

“Do you think about dying often?” she tries to tease, but her voice falls flat.

“Only occasionally. Do you?”

She’s not looking at me, and I can tell she’s avoiding it on purpose. “Every night during evening prayer.”

I can’t help my smile.

We both know she doesn’t pray.

She starts limping toward the bathroom, and I’m entirely too tempted to follow her- tease her- test the limits of whatever this is between us.

“I won’t be home for dinner Friday night,” she says at the door. My mood immediately dampens. “My father was probably just waiting to tell me when he had the chance. I’ll be back before midnight.”

Meaning she has plans to see her parents- alone. Like hell I’m letting that happen. She strolls through the bathroom doors without so much as a goodbye, but I take the dismissal in stride. Because I may not like when she walks away like she just dropped a mic, but I’ll get the upper hand sooner or later.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Charlotte

Idon’t know why I’m so nervous. The very thought of going home again has me on the edge of my seat for the rest of the week. It’s all I can think about. Outside of seeing Skar occasionally and seeing Aleks even less since the incident in the kitchen, there’s not much else to think about. My mother’s voice still echoes in my head:

“So many loose ends.”

“Family is everything.”

By the time Friday afternoon rolls around, I’m just glad to finally get it over with. A car pulls around the driveway, and I take the last few steps down, my heels already digging painfully into my feet as the car door opens. When I see someone sitting just inside, I stop dead in my tracks.

Shit.

“What are you doing?” I curse myself for being so direct, but when Skar hardly glances up from his phone, I shut the feeling down.

“Emailing.”

You’ve got to be kidding me.

I climb into the car and sit on the bench opposite him, knowing there’s no point in fighting him on this. He’s tapping away on his phone still.

“I don’t recall you receiving an invitation tofamilydinner.”

Gravel shifts beneath the car as we drive off, and in my peripheral, I see him tuck his phone into his suit pocket before looking at me. “I think that ring on your finger more than qualifies me.”

Hardly.

I smile, shaking my head with a scoff. “Moma’s going to be enthused.”

Especially when she specifically requested that I come alone.

“I doubt she’ll mind that your husband is coming along.”

“You say that as if she likes you.”

“I thought your parents adored me,” he says, and I’m reminded of the quote that had been plastered across the front page of every magazine for weeks before our wedding.

“My father might,” I admit, glancing at him again.

It’s truly not fair for someone to look that good wearing a suit.

“My mother doesn’t like anyone.”

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