What’s that part in the bible about coveting your neighbor’s wife? How about coveting your brother’s wife? Does that make it an extra-deadly sin?

If it is, I’m definitely going to hell.

It takes all my self-control to not stare at Farrah all dinner long. It’s a good thing I’m only at the cabin for two nights, because I don’t think I’d be able to resist talking to her. Or staring at her perfect body and beautiful face. Or trying to make her laugh.

I watch Elijah push his chair away from the dinner table while Farrah is asking him something. He walks off without answering, and I see her face fall. She takes a deep breath and turns to my mother.

“Thank you so much for dinner, it was delicious.”

“You’re welcome, Farrah,” my mom says benevolently, even though she didn’t lift a finger to cook it. I resist the urge to roll my eyes. That never goes over well.

Elijah stalks out of the room without a word, and my eyes flick back to Farrah.

I know that look.

It’s the same look that all Elijah’s girlfriends get after a while. Thinly veiled loneliness and sadness clouded with confusion. When the glamour of dating an NFL-star wears off, and they see what a fucking asshole he really is.

I probably shouldn’t say that about my brother, but it’s true.

I kiss my mother’s cheek and bring my plate to the kitchen. Maria is busy wrapping up the leftovers. I put my plate in the dishwasher and she waves me away.

“Jesse, please,” she says. “Let me do my job. What would your mother say if she saw you in here?”

“She’d probably ask who my real mother was, because it couldn’t possibly be her.”

“Jesse!”

I laugh, putting an arm around Maria. “Come on, Maria. Let me help you.”

The old woman huffs, and finally hands me a dish towel. “You can dry those pots and pans.”

I grin and squeeze my arm around her shoulders, placing a kiss on her temple. Growing up, Maria was a maid, a cook, and a surrogate mother to me and Elijah. Mom and Dad were always away on business, or busy in society, or doing whatever it is that they do. Maria was the one who really took care of us.

I take the dish towel from Maria and head towards the sink. She’s already done almost half the dishes, so I take them one by one and start drying.

“So how has it been up here with the two of them?” My parents are good people, but they can be demanding, especially since my father’s back has been acting up.

“They’ve been fine,” Maria says, spooning some mashed potatoes into a Tupperware container. “Your mother has been busy visiting the neighbors and your father is working on his book, so I don’t have much to do.”

“Except run the whole house and make gourmet meals all day, every day,” I grin.

“Yes, except for that,” Maria laughs. She snaps the container shut and opens the refrigerator, shuffling a few things to fit the potatoes in.

Someone clears their throat behind us. I turn to see Farrah with a couple plates in her hand. She’s glancing around, lifting the plates up.

“I saw you bring your plate in, thought I’d grab mine and Elijah’s. You guys have a dishwasher?”

Maria jumps up and shuffles over to her. “I’ll grab those, Farrah, don’t worry about it.”

“Can I help with anything?”

“Of course not,” Maria says, placing the plates on the counter and opening the dishwasher. “Would you like a drink? I can bring it to the living room for you.”

“Are you sure you’re my brother’s fiancée? I’ve never seen him help with anything,” I laugh. I pull out another dish towel and throw it to Farrah. She catches it with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, Elijah and I are actually two distinct people, with two distinct brains,” she says. “And I like to help.”

Maria glances at me with a raised eyebrow. She’s got her hands on her hips and the look in her eye says ‘what the hell do you think you’re doing?’

I ignore her. She huffs and heads back to the dining room to collect more dishes.

Farrah looks at me. “Does Elijah really not help with anything?”

“What, does he help you at home?”

She chews her lip and says nothing.

“Exactly.”

“He’s great, though. I mean, I can deal with a couple extra dishes and a bit of laundry. He does lots of things for me. We don’t even eat at home that much. Or, he doesn’t eat at home that much.”

“Are you trying to convince me or are you trying to convince yourself?” I crouch down to the corner cupboard and put the big roasting pan away. I look up to Farrah and watch as her cheeks redden some more. She hands me the roasting pan lid. When I try to grab it, she keeps a hold on it.

“I want to marry him,” she says, staring me straight in the eye. “I love your brother.”

The fire in her eyes makes me pause. Her words sting, but I try not to let it show. I nod, and she releases the roasting pan lid. Maria reappears and starts putting plates in the dishwasher, and we finish drying the pots and pans in silence. Farrah folds the tea towel and puts it on the counter.

“Thank you for dinner, Maria. It was delicious.”

Maria smiles and my heart warms. Usually, people just ignore Maria. “No problem, Farrah. Can I get you anything else?”

“No, I’m fine. The bedrooms are just down the hall and up the stairs?”

Maria nods and Farrah disappears. I watch the door swing shut and let out a sigh. Maria looks at me through slitted eyes, and makes a tsk-tsk-tsk sound.

“What!”

“Be careful, Jesse.”

“Careful of what?!”

“That is your brother’s fiancée.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I know that look on your face.”

“She’s too good for him.” I don’t know why I say that, or how I know it after having met Farrah a couple hours ago. I just have a feeling in my chest about her. Farrah is different. Elijah doesn’t deserve her.

Maria is quiet for a while. She shuts the dishwasher and leans against the counter. Then, she sighs and turns to me.

“Yes, she probably is. But she’ll have to learn that on her own. Don’t you go meddling in other people’s affairs.”

“I’m not meddling.”

“Jesse,” she says in that voice she used to use when I was in trouble.

I grin, and mimic her voice. “Maria.”

She turns towards me and yanks the towel out of my hands. “You stay out of trouble,” she says, pointing a finger at me. The tea towel bounces up and down in her hand as she points. “You hear me?”

“Always.”

“I’m serious, Jesse.”

“So am I!”

She just sighs and rolls her eyes. “Alright. Out!” She shoos me away. “Out of my kitchen.”

I grin, and give Maria another hug. “Thank you for dinner.”

She mumbles something and I grin before turning around and walking out.

Maybe Maria is right. Maybe this is just plain old sibling rivalry, and I should stay out of my brother’s engagement.

Whether he deserves her or not is none of my business. She doesn’t need to be saved from him, and she’s definitely not mine to save.

But when I walk out of the kitchen, I wander down the hall and I think I can smell her perfume lingering. I glance towards the stairs, and then shake my head.

None of my business.