Ella
“Ella, I love you, but you’re driving me crazy.” My sister’s voice floats through my phone, sounding more exasperated than irritated. After his shower, Sinclair went to his office, and I promptly called my sister for advice.
“What do you mean?” I inquire hesitantly, I’ve just finished explaining
“I mean,” She sighs heavily, “Who are you, and what have you done with my sister? You’ve always known exactly what you wanted and done whatever was necessary to make it happen. You are a strong, independent woman – not some bratty, indecisive, emotional basket-case who’s too caught up in a man to know her own heart.” She groans.
I wish I could argue with her assessment of my behavior, but I know she’s right. However, before I can acknowledge as much, she continues, “It’s like: you like S
