Where Two Voices Meet

Chapter 13: The Green-Eyed Monster

Angela Villanueva had always believed she was a good person.

Not perfect.

Just good.

She volunteered.

She helped new choir members feel welcome.

She attended Mass every Sunday.

She tried her best to treat people kindly.

Which was why the feeling growing inside her scared her.

Because every time she saw Sarah and Mark together, it grew a little stronger.

And she hated it.

The competition announcement had changed everything.

Not dramatically.

Not overnight.

Just enough.

The choir suddenly had a goal.

A mission.

Something to work toward.

Rehearsals became longer.

Practices became more focused.

Everyone seemed energized.

Everyone except Angela.

The more excited everyone became about the duet, the harder it was for her to smile.

And lately, smiling required effort.

Thursday afternoon found Angela helping Mrs. Henderson organize sheet music.

Normally she enjoyed the quiet work.

Today she couldn't focus.

Because across the room, Sarah and Mark were rehearsing.

Not alone.

Mrs. Henderson was there.

Several choir members were nearby.

Nothing inappropriate.

Nothing secretive.

Nothing wrong.

Yet Angela couldn't stop watching.

The duet sounded beautiful.

That was part of the problem.

Their voices fit together naturally.

Effortlessly.

Like they belonged in the same song.

The realization made something painful twist inside her chest.

"Angela?"

She looked up.

Mrs. Henderson was watching her.

"You handed me the same folder three times."

Angela blinked.

"Oh."

A few choir members laughed gently.

Heat rushed to her face.

"Sorry."

Mrs. Henderson smiled.

"No harm done."

But Angela's embarrassment lingered.

Because she knew the truth.

She wasn't distracted by the folders.

She was distracted by them.

Across the room, Sarah noticed Angela leave early.

Again.

The third time this week.

A small frown appeared on her face.

"Something wrong?"

Mark looked up from the music.

"Who?"

"Angela."

Mark glanced toward the empty doorway.

"Oh."

The response seemed thoughtful.

Concerned.

Sarah noticed.

"Have you talked to her?"

Mark nodded.

"A little."

"And?"

He sighed.

"She says she's fine."

Sarah immediately recognized the problem.

Nobody was ever fine when they said they were fine.

That evening, Angela sat alone in church.

The sanctuary was quiet.

Almost empty.

Only a few candles illuminated the space.

She liked coming here when nobody else was around.

It helped her think.

Helped her pray.

Helped her listen.

Tonight, however, her thoughts refused to cooperate.

They kept returning to the same questions.

The same fears.

The same ache.

Why does this hurt so much?

The question echoed through her mind.

She folded her hands.

Closed her eyes.

And prayed.

"Lord..."

The word came out shaky.

"I don't want to feel this way."

Her voice cracked slightly.

"I don't want to be jealous."

The admission hurt.

Because saying it aloud made it real.

For several moments she sat in silence.

Waiting.

Listening.

Praying.

The church remained quiet.

Yet somehow she remembered a verse she had heard countless times.

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy..."

Angela swallowed.

The words struck deeper than usual.

Because this time they felt personal.

Painfully personal.

The next rehearsal brought another challenge.

The choir gathered for sectionals.

Mrs. Henderson divided everyone into groups.

Sarah naturally ended up with the alto section.

Angela sat directly across from her.

For the first twenty minutes, everything went smoothly.

Then Sarah made a joke.

Nothing special.

Nothing extraordinary.

The entire group laughed.

Including Mark.

The sound hit Angela harder than it should have.

Immediately she felt guilty.

Because Sarah hadn't done anything wrong.

She was simply being herself.

Kind.

Funny.

Friendly.

The very qualities Angela normally appreciated.

Now they felt threatening.

The realization disgusted her.

Later, during break, Mia joined Angela outside.

The two sat on the church steps.

Watching the sunset.

For a while neither spoke.

Then Mia broke the silence.

"You know, you're allowed to be sad."

Angela looked over.

"What?"

"You've seemed different lately."

Angela stared at the ground.

She considered denying it.

Instead she asked,

"Is it obvious?"

Mia gave a small smile.

"Only to people who care about you."

The answer nearly broke her.

Because that was the problem.

The choir cared.

These people cared.

And she was starting to feel guilty for hiding things from them.

"Can I tell you something?"

The question came quietly.

Mia nodded.

"Of course."

Angela hesitated.

Then stopped herself.

No.

Not yet.

She wasn't ready.

Instead she smiled weakly.

"Never mind."

Mia studied her carefully.

But thankfully didn't push.

Some battles had to be fought in their own time.

That night, Angela lay awake staring at the ceiling.

Thinking.

Praying.

Struggling.

The jealousy wasn't controlling her.

Not yet.

But she could feel it growing.

Like a c***k in a wall.

Small.

Manageable.

Dangerous.

Because cracks had a way of spreading if ignored.

For the first time, she realized something frightening.

The real danger wasn't losing Mark.

The real danger was becoming someone she wouldn't recognize afterward.

And if that happened...

Nobody would lose more than she would.