“That’s not true.” Her heart was pounding. She rarely fought with her sister. Even as a child, they’d fought only when no one else was attacking.
“You’re hiding things from me now. I came here because I was really worried about you getting involved with Seth again. I thought you might need someone to talk to.”
“Nothing to talk about.” There it was. The ability to hide it. She was starting to remember how it was done. Deny. Conceal. Smile. Rinse and repeat. She could do this.
Harriet leaned forward. “Something has happened! Why won’t you talk to me? Why won’t you tell me?”
Because not in a million years did she want Harriet to know how bad she was feeling.
“Nothing happened.”
“Right.” Harriet thumped her mug down on the table and stood up. “Go take that shower. I’m going for a walk.”
“What? Why? No!” Fliss stood up, too. What the hell had just happened? “Don’t walk out. What is wrong? You’re not behaving like yourself.”
Harriet fumbled with the back door. “And you are behaving exactly like yourself.”
“Excuse me?”
Her sister turned, her eyes brimming with hurt. “Do you know why I came here? I came because I was worried. Ten years ago you were so badly hurt I was actually scared. Yes, that’s right. I was scared, Fliss.” Her voice shook. “I thought you were going to snap. Break.”
“I was—”
“Do not tell me you were fine, because we both know that’s not true. You were hurt, but you didn’t talk to me and I accepted that because I know that’s the way you prefer to deal with things—” She drew in a shaky breath. “But then a few months ago when Daniel told us Seth was back in Manhattan, I know what that did to you. You didn’t sleep. You didn’t eat properly. You pretended you didn’t care, because that’s what you do, but you cared. Knowing that you might bump into him at any moment pushed you right to the edge again. And the worst part of all that? Knowing that you still don’t turn to me. Even now, when something has obviously happened, you won’t turn to me. Once, just once in your life, why can’t you admit how you’re feeling?”
She’d been doing that. And where had it got her? “You don’t need to worry about me, Harry.”
“But I do.” Harriet’s voice cracked
. “Do you think I don’t know when you hurt? Just because you don’t trust me enough to talk about it doesn’t mean I don’t know.”
“I trust you.” Her mouth felt dry. Her hands were shaky. “There’s no one I trust more in the world.”
“Then why don’t you share what’s going on inside you?”
“Because I don’t need to.”
“Oh, for—” Harriet bit her lip, turned on her heel and left the room, leaving Fliss staring after her.
“Wait! What the— I try and protect you—” But she was talking to herself.
“Maybe she doesn’t always want to be protected,” her grandmother said from the doorway. “Maybe, sometimes, she’d like to be the one doing the protecting. That’s what sisters do, isn’t it? That’s what you told me.”
Fliss felt her throat thicken. “I don’t want her to worry. I don’t want her to be hurt. Is that so wrong?”
“A person can’t get through life without being hurt. Hurting is part of being human. Feeling pain is part of being human. We learn to cope with it, just as Seth is doing. What makes it bearable is having people around us who care. Who love.”
“I care about Harriet. I love her!”
“And she cares about you and loves you. But do you ever let her do that?”
Fliss swallowed. “I try to be strong.”
“Maybe, instead of being strong, she wants you to let her in.”
You hide ninety percent and show ten.
It wasn’t the same thing, she thought. With Seth it had been all about protecting herself. With Harriet, it was all about protecting her sister.