I offered a noncommittal response and turned my attention to my phone, replying to my professor’s messages. Their words no longer bothered me.
***
Two blocks from my university, Zoe asked to be dropped off.
“Thanks for the ride, Vincent. Love you!” she chirped, winking at me as she stepped out.
Then, winking at me specifically, “Sister, I am leaving first.”
I looked at the neighbourhood’s name and casually asked, “This isn’t the neighbourhood of our wedding house?”
“Oh,” Vincent replied lightly, “she’s probably visiting a friend.”
I didn’t press further.
Sensing my silence, he added, “She’s still injured, so I thought I’d drop her off on the way. Don’t be so petty.”
My expression remained calm and I said, “Oh, it’s perfectly normal for an older brother to give his sister a ride. Isn’t it?”
His words caught in his throat.
***
When we arrived at the university, Vincent pulled a large bouquet of flowers from the trunk and shoved it into my arms.
“I know you’ve been upset these past few days,” he said, his tone coaxing. “I’m sorry, okay? This is me making it up to you.”