Chapter 1
ELLIE (PRESENT)
Yellowish gold ribbons stream down from the vivid blue sky as I watch the clouds drift leisurely overhead.
I lie on my back, soaking in the warmth while praying to the sun gods for a nice even tan on my pasty, pale legs.
So far, my fair skin is sporting a bright pink hue instead of the bronze tone that I’m after.
I reach behind me and grab my bottle of sunscreen so that I don’t turn the shade of a lobster instead.
The muffled sound of my sister’s voice interrupts my state of semiconsciousness.
I’ve been staring into the endless expanse of blue as Katie drones on about wedding preparations that I couldn’t care less about.
I move my eyes back to her mouth, trying to concentrate on the words escaping her lips, but it sounds like I am listening to one of those adults speaking in a Charlie Brown movie.
We both flip over to lie on our stomachs, and I don’t miss the glistening of her eyes as we reposition on our lounge chairs. I instantly regret that I haven’t been paying attention and offering my support when she clearly needs it.
It’s not that I don’t love that my sister is happily planning her forever. It’s just that I don’t love who she is happily planning her forever with.
Nate Westin.
I hate him.
I repeat those words in my head like a silent prayer. A mantra, like if I say them enough, they will become my new reality. That assertion isn’t genuine though, it’s just what I tell myself to survive this piercing agony I live with every day.
Nate Westin. His name alone causes a profound ache deep in my chest. The man he’s become just makes me…sad. He’s shallow. He’s arrogant. He’s pretentious. And worst of all…he’s none of those things. It’s all just a role he plays, one that allows his fabricated charm to fool everyone around him.
So yeah, I hate him. I hate him because I can’t hate him.
Honestly, the most peeled back version of the truth is…I love him. I’ve loved him since I was sixteen years old, when we stupidly tied our souls together like a plea to fate. A plea that went unheard, despite the fact that I’ve never been able to move on.
Despite the fact that he broke me.
Six years later, he had the audacity to meet my older sister during their graduate program at Columbia.
Katie attended a boarding school for gifted kids, so prior to grad school, their paths had never crossed.
He didn’t even know she was my sister until six months ago, though I’m not confident it would have had any influence.
He’s still with her, and I’m still breaking into pieces every time I see them together.
They had been together for less than two years when she brought him home, announcing their engagement and whirlwind romance.
The moment our eyes connected, our brutal goodbye and the seven and a half years we’d been apart disappeared instantly.
He looked at me with eyes full of the same longing reflected in mine.
But mine also displayed the pain he carelessly caused me.
He quickly masked his reaction, but it was obvious he wasn’t any more immune to the pull that had always existed between us.
That memory alone makes it hard to remember that he belongs to Katie now.
For the last six months, he’s continued to torment me by simply existing.
By invading my orbit, a space I swore I’d never let him in again.
By loving my sister when I remember so clearly what it felt like to be loved by him.
I also remember what it felt like to be burned by him.
I try to hold tight to that feeling so that I can cope with losing the man I love all over again.
This time to my sister.
Katie doesn’t even know about our past. The shame of it kept my secrets heavily guarded at sixteen.
Now? What’s the point? She would tell me I need to let it go, that we were just kids and I need to move on.
How can I explain that what we had transcended far beyond teenage lust?
We weren’t two hormonal kids connected by shallow feelings and sexual attraction.
We needed each other. I was his lifeline, and he was my protector.
He used to look at me like I was his reason for breathing.
Sometimes, I feel like he still does, but I know it’s all in my head.
Wishful thinking, maybe. A wish I most certainly should not be thinking.
Which is why I try to avoid him as often as I can.
It’s too hard to be around him and not remember what we meant to each other.
What we shared within our own little private cocoon of happiness.
The plans we made once we escaped the personal hell we were living.
Plans that never came to fruition.
So now, I suppress the betrayal I feel from him and substitute it with the genuine love I have for my sister.
Katie doesn’t understand why it’s so grueling to be around him.
I made up an excuse about his bad behavior in high school, and the explanation seemed to pacify her for a little while.
Now, all she wants is for her two favorite people to “bond.” She claims he wants to get to know me, and regardless of the past, he sees me as a little sister.
I want to tell her that wasn’t always the case.
Deep down I know the truth, a truth he may never admit.
He didn’t want to hurt me. I know this down to my core.
I just don’t know why he did it. It doesn’t change the fact that he did do it.
I can’t forgive that, not without an explanation.
In the meantime, I choose to ignore his overbearing presence.
Even as he continues to insert himself into every corner of my life, acting as if he has a right to be there.
“…and I told her that just because she is my wedding planner doesn’t mean she knows what she is talking about.
And it is absolutely necessary for Mom and Chris to be seated at separate tables at the reception.
So, she asked me if they’re divorced, and I said no, they’ve been married for twenty-eight years.
She looked at me like I was bat-shit crazy. ”
Ah. I’m finally hearing words again. This is good. Supportive sister here I come.
“Why are you putting Mom and Dad at separate tables?”
Or not.
“Ellie! Have you even listened to a word I said?”
No.
“Of course. I’m just trying to make sense of it, that’s all.
” I give her my most empathetic smile. I love my sister, and she deserves every bit of my attention.
I just can’t get past the distress I feel when I think about her marrying Nate.
The more I think about their impending nuptials, the more I feel unrivaled panic rising from the very depths of my soul.
“Well, for starters, they’ve been separated for years.
Mom will be at Chris’ throat by the time the dinner plates hit the table, and he will be so drunk off his ass that he’ll make a huge scene.
Then all the attention will be on those two fighting psychopaths on my big day.
I didn’t even want to invite him, but Mom said he would just show up if I didn’t.
Which would make an even bigger scene.” She takes a deep breath, calming herself.
“You know I’m the furthest thing from a Bridezilla…
” debatable, “…but I don’t want the cake landing on Chris’ face before I get a chance to smash it in Nathan’s. ”
Chris is my father and Katie’s stepfather. He’s fifty-five years old and probably spent the last thirty of those years three sheets to the wind.
“And we don’t think it’s a problem that you want to smash cake into your fiancé’s face?”
She gives me the look.
“Just asking.” I bat my lashes.
“Speaking of my wonderfully doting fiancé.” She glows.
“He kind of…um…volunteered to go with you to pick up my gown,” she casually states, flipping her box-dyed blonde waves over her shoulder.
I stare at her, waiting for her to make eye contact.
Ever so slowly, her big blue eyes meet mine; cautious and meek.
My sister is not meek, and I am not falling for this doe-eyed bullshit.
“You mean go with me to Sao Paolo? To pick up your Wanda Borges original wedding gown? The trip we were taking together. To Brazil,” I clarify, my tone harsh.
I can tell by her panicked expression that she can see me retreating.
She knows my feelings for Nate, and she knew how uncomfortable this would make me.
“I know…I know. I promised we would go together and make this our last big and little sister hurrah before I’m a married woman.
But I just can’t get away from the firm.
They assigned me to a huge case that I’d be stupid to refuse if I want to make partner someday.
When I told Nathan about it, he told me he would go in my place.
But he can’t see my wedding dress, and you need to try it on for me to make sure everything is perfect. ”
I flip to my back again, cupping my hands to shield my eyes from the glaring sun. “Katie, I took time off work to do this with you.”
“I know, and when your big day comes, I’ll do the same for you,” she whines. She would. But I don’t mention the fact that she won’t do it for herself.
“Can’t Mom come with me?” She looks surprised by my question. My mom and I don’t have a great relationship, but we’ve been trying to work on it ever since she separated from my dad. So far, it’s not going great.
“I already asked, Els. She took too much time off to help prepare for the wedding. I don’t get what the big deal is about going with Nathan. You two will have such a fun time. A real chance to bond like brother and sister.”
There it is. The whole bonding thing, coming on strong. This is a constant with her. She’s about to follow up with a nice little guilt trip, but before she gets a chance, I sigh heavily.
“Fine. We can go together.” My heart does a little flip-flop in my chest at the thought of five days in Brazil. With Nate…alone.
This is bound to be a disaster.
My sister’s squeal brings me out of my thoughts. “Thank you! I knew I could count on you!”
“Well, I’m not making any promises he will come home in one piece. Or alive,” I mutter, side-eyeing my sister. I can’t help the grin that peeks through at her exasperated eye roll. I flip over onto my stomach again so that I can avoid carrying on this exhausting conversation.
“Nathan is a good guy, Ellie. I don’t know why you refuse to see that,” she replies, flipping onto her side and turning away from me.
Nathan. Never Nate. He always hated his name, Nathan. It was too close to Nathaniel. His namesake. I know that because I know him.
I knew him.
It’s exactly why I am still so angry at him now.
This version of him, it’s all a lie. The Nate I fell for was the real Nate, not this man impersonating a one-dimensional-human-sized-Ken-doll.
The kind that doesn’t care about anything as long as he remains the surface-level son of a politician.
A fake and a fraud, the exact type of person he never wanted to be.
Someone like his father.
No. That’s not fair. Nate is nothing like his father, and he never could be.
This adaptation is just a character he plays for the people surrounding him.
It’s a mask he wears to disguise the brokenness inside of him.
A veil meant to camouflage the fear that he’s not good enough or strong enough to resist becoming the man his father was.
It breaks my heart, though. Concealing innate emotions and replacing genuine connections with the personality of a mindless frat-bro can’t be a healthy or satisfying way to live.
Okay, maybe Nate is far from a frat-bro.
He’s successful, talented, and kind, but he exists as a shell of the man I used to know.
I just have no idea why. All he ever wanted was to get away from his father.
Instead, he let Nathaniel Westin dictate his university and his career path, both things he swore would never happen.
I don’t even think Katie knows the real man behind the mask.
My sister cherishes our deep connection, so I can’t imagine she is truly content with this superficial imitation of a loving relationship.
Maybe Nate checks her boxes. Maybe she doesn’t care enough to get beyond the surface and meet the real man underneath.
How unfortunate for her because that man is a deep, beautiful soul. That man also let his fear take the reins and hurt me in a way he can never undo.
“Are you going deaf, Pip? Or have you just gotten really good at ignoring me?” A deep voice filled with humor brings me back to the present.
The gruff sound immediately gratifies every single inch of my skin, setting my nerves on fire and sending goosebumps across my flesh.
I flip over and look up at the hulking figure blocking the sun from my eyes.
“I said, ‘Hi.’” His eyes crinkle as he fights the smile trying to take over his face. He always found my ability to daydream and block out the world amusing. I always found his amusement endearing.
Now, I find it annoying.
I audibly sigh, letting my gaze travel up his imposing body until it connects with the rich emerald green of his eyes.
The bitterness hits me a little harder than normal after all the wedding talk.
Even so, our connection is just as strong as it was eight years ago.
A connection I’ve tried to ignore for years, but one that doesn’t appear to be waning.
A connection that I don’t think is one-sided.
Which is pretty unfortunate considering the man looking at me with what I’d describe as carefully disguised yearning, is going to be marrying my sister in six weeks.
“Hi, Nate.”