Page 3 of When Fate Breaks
“Oh,” he says, his brows pulling together.
“What?” I question.
“My birthday is July 31st,” he says, pursing his lips. “So we’ll both be six that day. That means, every year, we’d only be the same age for one day?”
“I guess,” I say, shifting on my feet.Who is this kid?“Can I wash my hands now?”
“What’s your favorite number?” he asks, ignoring my question and sprinkling a packet of some sort of powder onto his grass plant.
“Thirteen,” I reply instantly. It really is my favorite number, but I alsoreallyjust want to use the sink.
His eyes shoot back to my face. “But thirteen is the unluckiest number.”
“I don’t care. I like it.”
He looks at me for a few moments then turns back to his plant, his light brown curls falling in his eyes. “You’re weird.”
I scoff. “I am not–”
“Hey,” he says, cutting me off again.
“What?” I question, getting frustrated.
“What did one flower say to the other?”
“I have no idea.”
“What’s up, bud?”
I stare at him in disbelief.
After a few seconds he looks up from his plant, smirking, and we both burst out laughing.
“You’reweird,” I say.
“Yeah,” he says, gathering up his plant. “Tell me something I don’t know.” And then he walks past me and out of the bathroom without another word.
1
PRESENT DAY
“So when do I get to see it?”
“Steph, you're going to have to give me a little time. We literally just got the keys today,” I say, fitting the cell phone between my shoulder and ear as I wrap a towel around myself. “We don’t even have furniture yet.” I wipe the steam from the bathroom mirror, my brown eyes coming into view. “Well, any from this century, that is. Maybe not even from the one before.”
“Ugh, come on, Annie! I already have my pearls and petticoat packed and ready to go!” Steph teases.
I roll my eyes, a smile pulling at my lips. “Patience is a virtue, dear sister.”
“Well you’re gonna have to cut me some slack. It’s not everyday your sister is gifted a mansion–”
“It is not amansion,” I correct her. “And Remy’s grandmother left it tohim.”
“Okay,one, it’s totally a mansion,” Steph shoots back, “and,two, yourfiancéwas gifted the mansion. So, therefore, it’s your mansion. By law. You totally have a mansion. What twenty-eight year old has a mansion? You’re living in a movie, Annie, I swear–”
“Okay,one,” I cut her off, “nothing isby lawfor another two months. And,two, stop saying mansion.”
“I just wanna see the mansion,” Steph says instantly, making me laugh. “C’mon let me live out my Southern housewife fantasy! Just for a weekend.”
