“It was all fake.”

The words hang in the air. They’re the first thing I say to my immediate family after what has to be several long minutes of silence. It’s just Grandma, Mom, Roxy, and me. John wanted to join us, but Mom asked that he stay at the wedding hall to take care of things there.

After throwing Oliver out of my room, I ignored Roxy’s pleas for me to come out for hours, sobbing into my pillow. I couldn’t imagine facing anyone, and I felt like doing nothing more than hiding under my bed. Eventually, though, I calmed down, and I found myself putting on a t-shirt and pants. I felt like it was my duty to talk to them, to face them. So I dragged myself out here.

“All of it?” Roxy asks, and I can see the tears in her eyes. She genuinely liked Oliver and me together. I’ve always known that Roxy was a lot deeper than the image she puts out. There’s no way someone who wasn’t could sing the way she does.

“The whole thing.”

I lower my eyes, tears threatening to spill over my lashes and down my face. I don't want to see their faces. I don’t want to see the many questions in their eyes.

It hurts down deep inside, where you’re supposed to carry your guts and instead, I just carried my fear. I can't believe I thought I could joke my way through something like this. That I thought being silly could solve something so serious. How wrong I was, and now what started as a silly little white lie over a year ago has come to this.

“Why?” Roxy says softly. “I sang for you guys, Mindy.”

I swallow the lump in my throat and let the burning pain in my chest try and fuel me. I can’t lie to them any longer, so I might as well be totally honest. “I just wanted to avoid any relationship questions. You can be a little hard to deal with sometimes, Mom. But that’s no excuse. It was stupid. And after a point, I didn’t want everyone to think I was a liar, and I just dug myself deeper. So . . . enter Oliver. I didn’t even know him before this.”

“Oh, honey,” Mom says, and I look up for a second to see tears in her eyes. “I know it must feel like I put pressure on you with my expectations, but I wouldn’t have loved you any less had you shown up without a fiancé.”

“You do put pressure on us, Mom,” Roxy says quietly. “All of us. With me, you don’t like my singing.”

Mom stops, wiping at her cheeks. “I just . . . I want what’s best for my girls.”

“How is being miserable and jumped on best for us?” I ask her. “Mom, you bugged me even in college about whether I was going to find a guy. You made it seem like I was going to school for a wedding ring and not a degree!”

“I just . . . being young, it’s the time for love,” Mom says, defending herself. “I wasn’t trying to say you had to marry some guy right out of school.”

“You made it feel that way sometimes.” I look over at Roxy, who looks miserable as she twists her hair around her finger. “I can’t even imagine what you’ve been through!”

“Me?” Roxy asks, getting up. “Really, Mindy? You ask about me? I really liked Oliver and was invested in you both! I thought your love was real. It sure did seem like it. But anyway, I'm your sister. We used to share everything!”

“Yeah, well, I’m sorry!” I yell before taking a deep breath. I look at them. “I’m really ashamed about all of it. You know me—carefree. I didn’t think it was a big deal when I started. I just didn’t want to disappoint anyone. I wanted to make you proud.”

Roxy comes over and puts her hands on my shoulders. “Please, you know you’re the favorite. Everyone’s proud of how you did things on your own. I love you, and you know I’m going to be on your side no matter what.”

I swallow back tears and look around to everyone. “I’m sorry to all three of you. I took it too far.”

“I knew I should have said something earlier,” Grandma says, and everyone turns to look at her. Reading the question in my eyes, she waves it off. “Oh, I don’t mean about Oliver. That’s one fine hunk of a man. He had me pretty well fooled. I mean about you, Mary Jo.”

“Me?” Mom asks, and Grandma nods.

“Honey, after Jacob’s death, you got a little off kilter. The girls are right, you kept nosing in where you don’t belong. But I hoped that with John, and this past week . . . well, I kept seeing y’all grow closer again, that you were fixin’ what needed to be fixed. So I figured it would all work itself out. Guess I was wrong.”

“I’m sorry,” Mom says, looking at Roxy and me. “I don’t mean to put pressure on you girls. I really don’t. Neither of you ever has to worry about disappointing me. I could never feel that way about either of you. You’re two beautiful, strong women, and I couldn’t be more proud of you.”

Her heartfelt words help, and I come over, kneeling in front of Mom and hugging her. I’m shocked a moment later when Roxy grabs the two of us and hugs Mom too, the tears flowing hard and fast. “I love you both,” Roxy cries before sitting back and wiping at her eyes. “But Mindy . . . if you ever, and I mean ever, pull some shit like that again . . .”

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” I promise her before suddenly laughing and squeezing her tight. “You too, okay?”

“I won’t,” Roxy promises me. “Still . . . I had my hopes pinned on you guys. You looked so good together.”

“You weren’t the only one, Roxy,” Grandma says. “I swear, Mindy, either there was real feeling between you two or you need to look into acting.”

Grandma’s and Roxy’s words shake me, and I’m on the verge of tears again. The hard part is, I think they’re right, and my chest aches. Roxy puts an arm around me, stroking my hair as I start crying. “Roxy . . . I feel lost.”

“I know, honey,” Roxy says as Mom hugs me too. “I know.”

“I was a fool,” I blubber. “I should have never done it.”

Grandma laughs. “If I had a nickel for every damn fool thing I’d done when I was younger, I’d be rich,” Grandma says. “The big thing is, Mindy, what are you going to do about it now that you’ve made your mistake?”

I cry more until I feel the tears start to dry up. “I’m going to make it up to you guys. I’m so sorry.”

“You do what you can when you feel your heart broken,” Grandma says, standing up painfully and coming over, stroking my hair. “You move on as best you can.”

“Move on?” I whisper, fresh tears coursing down my cheeks. Move on means moving on from Oliver. “What if I don’t want to move on? What if . . . what if I really love him? And what if I told him I hate him?”

“Then have faith that he loves you too, and trust in fate,” Grandma says. “Love finds a way.”

I nod miserably. Love finds a way.

What do you do when you can’t see the way?