“I’m happy,” I repeated.
“I swear, the older you get, the more your poker face is like a fucking death mask.”
“Thanks, Bren. I appreciate that.”
“What are older brothers for?”
I grunted.
“You did good with the dress, Eoghan.”
I didn’t look at my sister-in-law, Savvie, who was standing on my other side.
“Thank you for telling the store what she needed. I need to research dress styles.”
She snickered. “That’s what personal shoppers are for.”
Inessa stepped off the stage and made the return to her seat with her diploma in hand.
The second she was sitting down again, my head whipped over so I could stare Savvie down.
“You could teach me.”
Her brows lifted. “Why does that sound more like a demand than a request?”
“Never a demand. Always a request.”
She contemplated me. “You want me to teach you about fashion?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
I hadn’t liked not knowing what to buy my wife.
Relying on other people, even family, had been difficult lately.
My OCD was flaring.
I knew it and accepted it.
Because it was better than the other options.
Controlling the world around me was better than discouraging Inessa from ever leaving the apartment.
I’d promised her I wouldn’t do that again.
I always kept my promises.
Even if they killed something inside me.
But, how to encapsulate all that into an answer that would make Savvie teach me the bewildering ways of fashion?
“Why didn’t you ask Cammie for help?” she grumbled, letting me know that she wished I had now. Cammie was Inessa’s elder sister.
“Because I wanted the gift to be a surprise and you’re good at keeping secrets.”
Her nose crinkled. “You make that sound like a bad thing.”