Page 124 of King of Envy

I shook my head. “I can do that in New York. I’d rather be here.” I placed two sets of utensils in a brown paper bag. “I’ve missed this place.”

“If she wants to work, let her work,” Aaron said as he passed by with a bowl of stew. “We could use the help, and she’s been lazing around in the big city for too long. It’s time she remembers whatreallabor looks like.”

He laughed when I swatted his arm.

Our mother shook her head. She was smiling, but an inkling of worry darkened her eyes when she looked at me.

My family had avoided talking about the wedding or Jordan so far. I assumed they were worried I’d slide off the deep end or something if they brought those topics up. They didn’t know about my arrangement with Jordan, so in their eyes, I was a devastated fiancée who was putting on a brave face for the world.

I mean, Iwasdevastated and putting on a brave face—but not as much as I would be if I were in love with him. In fact, there’d been moments yesterday when he’d slipped my mind entirely, like when I was teasing Vuk about bingo and we said goodnight. If I’d stayed a second longer, I might’ve kissed him.

Just one more brick to add to my house of guilt.

Fortunately, the restaurant was so busy, I didn’t have time to dwell on it. It wasn’t fancy, but it’d garnered a cult following over the years. Every celebrity who visited D.C. usually dropped by for a meal.

Autographed photos of high-profile guests covered the dining room’s Wall of Fame. They featured everyone from movie star Nate Reynolds to British soccer phenom Asher Donovan to Queen Bridget of Eldorra, who’d been a regular here during her student days at Thayer University.

“So,” my mother said during our lunch break, which we took at a table set against the Wall. “What’s going on with you and Vuk?”

I almost choked on my water. I should’ve guessed she was just waiting for the right moment to pounce.

“I don’t know what you mean.” I schooled my face into a neutral expression.

“Ayana, you may be an adult now, but you’re still my daughter. I know you better than anyone.” Her tone gentled. “We don’t have to talk about this now if you don’t want to. It’s been a heavy week. But I saw the way you looked at him last night. You seemed…happy. I haven’t seen you laugh like that in a long time.”

I stared at my vegetable bowl. The bricks kept piling up in my stomach. “I shouldn’t be happy. Jordan is in the hospital.”

My engagement ring glinted on my finger. I didn’t know how to navigate the post-wedding world. Should I act more like a fiancée or a concerned friend? If Jordan stayed in a coma indefinitely, should I tell people about our arrangement, or should I return the ring and let them think I was a cold-hearted bitch for ditching my fiancé when things got tough?

“Joy doesn’t require the absence of grief,” my mother said. “We have the capacity to hold both at the same time. That’s part of the human experience.” She paused and waited for a server to pass. The dining room was so loud, no one paid us any mind except for a group of teenage girls who seemed to recognize me. They kept looking over and trying to take discreet photos on their phones.

“I don’t want you to take what I’m about to ask in the wrong way,” my mother said after the server was gone. “I’m your mother, and I’ll never judge you. So tell me the truth. Is there a part of you, however small, that’s…relieved the wedding didn’t go through?”

The floor opened beneath my feet. I plummeted, my stomach free-falling with nauseating speed. I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

Was I that transparent? I’d been home for less than a day, and my mother had already clocked the real reason behind my guilt. She was right; Iwasrelieved I hadn’t had to marry Jordan.

Logic and loyalty had refused to let me call off the wedding on my own, but if the universe intervened, that was a sign, wasn’t it? I would’ve never wanted the wedding to end the way it had, but now that it was done—or at least postponed—I felt more at ease.

The ball wasn’t in my court anymore. All I had to do was wait.

“Would I be a terrible person if I said yes?” I asked in a small voice.

“No.” My mother squeezed my hand, her voice unexpectedly fierce. “We can’t control our feelings. Whether it’s envy, bitterness, or, yes, relief, we’ve all felt things we were ashamed to feel. But it’s our actions that matter most. You weren’t the one who instigated the shootout or put Jordan in a coma. You mourned what happened as much as anyone else. So give yourself grace for the part of you that’s human. You areallowed to feelhowever you feel.”

I swallowed the emotion burning in my throat. “How did you know?”

“I’m your mother. It’s my job to know.” Her eyes crinkled with a sad smile. “You never seemedquiteas excited as brides usually are in the lead-up to the wedding. When you asked me how I knew your father was the one, it clicked. I saw your face before you walked down the aisle, Ayaniye. That wasn’t the face of a woman in love.”

“No.” My voice grew smaller. “It wasn’t.”

“Were you ever in love with him?”

I gave a slow shake of my head.

“Then why marry him?” A crease formed between my mother’s brows.

“It’s complicated.”

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