I want to be honest that I didn’t immediately assume malice. I told myself, for the first several repetitions, that grief makes people forgetful, that Kayla’s whole internal compass had been knocked sideways by Eric’s rejection and she simply wasn’t tracking small social details the way she normally would. I gave her that grace repeatedly, more times than I probably should have, because giving her grace felt like the only decent thing to do for a sister who’d just watched six years of her life collapse without warning.
Now Andrew was upstairs, and Kayla was stirring sugar into her coffee like nothing had happened.
“I asked you to stop,” I snapped.
She leaned against the counter. “And I don’t understand why you care.”
“You don’t have to understand.”
“You’re seriously threatened by me wearing a towel?”
“No.”
“Because if you trust Andrew—”
“Kayla.”
She took a sip. “I’m just saying, this sounds like a husband problem, not a towel problem.”
“No. It’s a you-ignoring-me problem.”
That made her smile. Not a nice smile.
“Honestly? Think of it as a test.”
I stared at her. “A what?”
“A test.” She set down her mug. “If Andrew can be tempted because another woman walks through the kitchen in a towel, wouldn’t you rather know now?”
I thought I’d misheard her. “You’re deliberately trying to tempt my husband?”
“No.” She said it as though I were being ridiculous. “I’m seeing whether he can be tempted.”
“Those are not as different as you think.”
“If he fails, that’s on him.”
I folded my arms. “And if I ask my sister to stop doing something in my home?”
Kayla rolled her eyes. “You’re making this way bigger than it is.”
That evening, I told Andrew. He was loading the dishwasher. For several seconds, the only sound was plates sliding into the rack.
Finally he said, “She actually used the word test?”
“Twice.”
Andrew pushed the lower rack in. “I’ll stay out of it.”
“Why?”
“She’s your sister.”
At the time, that sounded reasonable. I let it sit, told myself Andrew was simply respecting the delicate territory of my relationship with my grieving sister, not wanting to insert himself into something that felt, on the surface, like it belonged to the two of us. Three days later, I understood why it wasn’t reasonable at all.
