Her voice softened. She swayed my arm gently. "All I'm asking is for Melvin to pretend to be my husband for one trip home a year. If it really bothers you that much, I'll bring you next time. I'll tell everyone the truth—that nine years ago, I didn't marry the well-bred Melvin Gilbert. I married Victor Gilbert, the boy from the countryside."
"Even if the whole world laughs at me. Even if my parents break my legs. I will never give up on you."
She held up her hand like she was swearing an oath, her face the picture of sincerity.
If I hadn't heard this exact speech for nine years running, I might have believed her.
But this time, I didn't feel the old ache for her. I didn't worry about hurting her feelings. Instead, I smiled and nodded.
"Sure."
Greta blinked. "What?"
Her jaw practically hit the floor. "You actually want to come home with me? Don't you care that my parents might break my legs?"
I gave her a smile that didn't reach my eyes. "Of course I care. But a quick cut heals faster than a slow bleed. We can't hide in the shadows forever, can we?"