I Wish You Were Mine (Oxford #2)(72)

“Um…” She quickly glanced down at the menu and ordered the first thing she saw. “I’ll take the risotto.” It didn’t really matter what she ordered. Her stomach was in far too many knots to actually eat.

“Must be nice,” Madison grumbled when the server moved away.

“What must be nice?”

Madison lifted a slim shoulder. “Being called miss. Being able to order carbs.”

Mollie slumped back, suddenly sick of being seen as some scrappy, dorky kid. “Ugh, you sound like Jackson.”

Madison went very still as she stared at Mollie over her wineglass. “Meaning?”

Shit. Shit.

“He just gives me crap about being young is all. It gets old.”

“Uh-huh. I’m sure you’re real torn up about a hot guy commenting about how nubile you are.”

“Nubile? Seriously? Don’t be weird,” Mollie grumbled.

“What else does Jackson say?” her sister said. “And when exactly did you go and switch sides?”

“There are no sides, Madison! You two divorced. It was messy. The only side I’m on is the one where you two have moved on with your lives.”

“Would that make you happy?” Madison asked in the same sugary voice she’d used on the waitress. “Would Jackson moving on make you happy?”

Mollie lifted her chin. Here goes.

“Yes, it would,” she said quietly.

They said nothing for several tense moments as their gazes clashed. Madison had always been good at reading her, and Mollie wondered if her sister would pick up on the subtext or if she would have to come right out and say—

“Oh my God,” Madison whispered, her eyes widening. “Oh my God.”

Yep, her sister had put the pieces together, all right. That was plenty obvious by the look of pure shock on her face.

“Are you kidding me, Mollie? You slept with my husband?”

To Madison’s credit, she kept her voice down. What could easily have turned into a scene merely looked like an intense conversation.

“You are not married to him,” Mollie said.

“Don’t throw semantics in my face.”

“Semantics? You file for divorce from the man, leave him for someone else, and even after you change your mind and he tells you he doesn’t want to get back together, you think the problem here is word choice?”

“No, I think the problem is you f*cking him!”

Mollie flinched.

Madison put her elbows on the table, pressing her fingers to her pale cheeks. “I can’t…I can’t believe this. How did this…how could you, Mollie?”

Mollie swallowed. Madison’s reaction was no worse than she’d expected, but it was no better either.

“Maddie, you have to know—”

“Wait, I’m sorry. Do you actually think there’s something you can say that will make me okay with this?”

“No,” Mollie said. “I don’t expect you to be okay with it. I know it violates girl code and sister code, and I should have talked to you about my feelings before anything happened, but—”

Her sister wasn’t listening. She interrupted as though Mollie had never spoken. “And to think I pushed you to move in with him. Knowing about your stupid infatuation, knowing that he’d do anything to get back at me—”

“Wait, what?” Mollie asked, holding up her hand. “Whatever’s happening between Jackson and me isn’t about you, Maddie. If anything, you’re the reason that we—”

“Can you please drop the sweet-and-clueless routine for five minutes? I’m sure your reasons are all very pure and adoring, but I know Jackson, babe. Better than you ever will. And if he found his way into your bed, it’s because he was horny and figured he could get his rocks off and get back at me at the same time.”

Mollie shook her head. “You’re wrong. We care about each other. We’ve always—”

“Been best buddies, or whatever, I know, but you’re fooling yourself if you think he’s not messing around with you to get back at me.”

This was not the conversation she’d been practicing for. Mollie had been expecting to grovel, and instead she was on the defensive.

“Mollie.” Her sister’s tone was surprisingly kind. Suspiciously so. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I won’t,” Mollie said automatically, still trying to catch up with her sister’s rapid mood changes.

“Christ,” Madison said, taking a huge sip of her wine. “I hate myself for not seeing this coming. All the signs were right in front of me….” She set her glass down before looking up and meeting Mollie’s gaze directly. “This isn’t going to end well. You know that, right?”

“You have every right to be upset. I knew you’d be mad. You should be mad.”

“Of course I’m mad,” Madison said, picking up her wineglass and staring at the pale liquid. “I’m mad, and hurt, and shocked. And all I can think about is going home for a good cry.”

Mollie winced.

“But I guess I’m not that shocked,” Madison continued. “I’ve always known you liked him. It used to kill me, and I didn’t know what to do about it. I mean, if I talked to you, it would come across as condescending, but I hated that you suffered in private.”