Anna dramatized her disappointment with a long sigh. “I always do,” she muttered, handing us mugs for coffee.

I had to laugh at the pair of very different sisters. Sometimes it seemed like Kiera thought I’d made the wrong choice falling for her and not her sister, but Anna and I…in some ways we were too much alike. If I’d ever gotten together with her pre-Kiera, it never would have led to something deeper. It only would have been surface-sex, never delving any further, and I’d had that way too many times in my life. But Kiera…she had bored into me, opening me, sometimes against my will, and now, she was all I saw. My light, my future…my wife. Maybe.

Even as I poured cups of coffee for everyone, my eyes kept flicking to the living room. That was where I’d hidden the letter. It was buried in a small random hole in Kiera’s ugly orange couch. I knew the moment I’d placed it that it was hidden too well; the odds of her ever finding it were a million to one. But at least I’d done it. ‘Cause I still kind of felt like burning it. Crap. What would she think when she saw that? I was almost glad I wouldn’t physically be with her when she read it. If she reacted poorly to my plea…it would destroy me.

Anna snapped me out of my darkening thoughts by wishing me good luck on our final pre-tour show at Pete’s, and saying she’d be there after her shift at Hooters. I thanked her, nonchalantly telling her that the show should be a good one. Even as I said it, I wondered. Saying goodbye to Pete’s was almost as hard as saying goodbye to Kiera. That bar was home to me, it had been for a while now, and it was entirely possible that I might just lose it on stage. I’d shed a few melancholy tears while singing before—usually thanks to some Kiera-fueled emotional torment—but I had yet to have a meltdown. God, I really hoped I didn’t break that streak tonight. I’d never hear the end of it.

Anna left Kiera and I to finish our coffee together, and I savored every second as I stared at her over the rim of my mug. Maybe this had been our true beginning—quiet mornings bonding over coffee. I knew I thought of Kiera every time I took a sip of my favorite morning beverage; I really hoped she thought about me too.

While Kiera went through her school stuff, checking and rechecking that she had everything, I grabbed my jacket and stepped into Anna’s room. She was lounging on her bed, listening to music. When she spotted me standing in her doorway, she pulled out an earbud. “You look like you need a favor. What is it?”