Whenever I entered the room, she seemed to become even more talkative.
Andrew always found an excuse to leave.
One evening, I finally told him what she’d said about my insecurity.
His expression hardened.
“I don’t like it either,” he said.
“But she’s your sister.
I don’t want to make this worse between you.”
“She thinks she’s testing you.”
He looked at me for a long moment.
“Then perhaps she should be careful about what she asks to learn.”
I didn’t understand what he meant.
The following Sunday, Kayla appeared downstairs in her towel again.
Her damp hair fell over one shoulder, and she leaned against the counter, smiling at Andrew while I sat across from him.
“Morning, handsome,” she said.
Andrew put down his coffee.
“You’ve been calling this a test, haven’t you?”
Kayla tilted her head, amused.
“Exactly.
I’m making sure my sister married a man who can control himself.”
