Chapter 24
The next day, I can’t bring myself to leave my bed.
Not to eat, not for anything. I just lie there, crying endlessly.
I wish I could sleep, but even that escape feels impossible.
I love Calvin with everything I have, every piece of my heart belongs to him.
But we can’t keep doing this. The sneaking around, the lying, the cheating… It’s tearing me apart, bit by bit.
Abigail came in my room in the morning, offering me Tylenol and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich because I pretended to be sick; it’s easier than to say hey, I’m sad because I’ve been having an affair with your fiancé, and I have stupidly fallen in love with him, but he chose you.
I know I’m pathetic, but I never meant to hurt you. I love you. Sisters? Yeah, no.
I glance at my phone, a small knot forming in my chest as I see the flurry of notifications. A few are from the Swoon Squad, buzzing about which book we should dive into first. But the others are from Calvin.
Without opening his messages, I swipe them away, deleting every single one with trembling fingers.
I can’t bear to read them, Not when I know they’ll undo me.
But even as I exhale shakily, my thumb hesitates over the power button.
I can’t shut my phone off, no matter how much I want to.
It’s a cruel limbo, caught between needing space and craving the words I refuse to let myself see.
A few hours later, after mustering enough strength, I drag myself out of bed and shuffle to the bathroom. When I return, I stop in my tracks. White tulip petals are scattered all over the bed. My heart sinks.
What the hell? Was he just waiting outside for me to leave? I wasn’t even in the bathroom that long.
White tulips. Forgiveness.
The sight of them makes my chest ache and my anger rise all at once. I hate how much I love them but none of it is supposed to be mine. He isn’t supposed to be mine.
I look up there he is, standing silently in the corner of the room like a ghost, a beautiful, haunting reminder of everything I can’t have.
“You can’t be in here,” I hiss. My eyes flick to the door like it might burst open any second, like Abigail might appear and ruin what little remains of the lie we’ve been clinging to. “You need to go. Please.”
He doesn’t move.
Of course he doesn’t.
He just stands there, breathing like he’s trying to keep something from breaking loose inside him, like walking away would tear him in half.
I turn away before I can drown in it. My hands fumble with the scattered tulip petals on the counter, pretending they matter, like if I just throw them away, maybe I can throw us away too. I march to the trash can and drop them in, trying not to fall apart with them.
But when I turn back, he’s closer.
Too close.
My breath catches.
Normally, his nearness would feel like safety. But now it feels like a goodbye I haven’t prepared for.
“Talk to me,” he says. “Let me fix this.”
“There’s nothing to fix,” I snap, gripping the sink so hard my knuckles go white. “It’s over, Calvin. Whatever this was. It’s over.”
He flinches, barely, but I see it.
“You don’t mean that.”
“I do.” The words strangle me on the way out.
A beat of silence. The kind that stretches and hurts and feels like it’s cutting bone.
“I asked you for time,” he says, quieter now. “There are things you don’t know, things I can’t tell you yet.”
“Then I hope you tell them to Abigail,” I whisper. “Because she’s the one you chose, remember?”
His jaw clenches and I watch his hands curl into fists.
“You really think this meant nothing to me?” he asks, and there’s something raw in his voice. “You think I could touch you, kiss you, look at you the way I do, and walk away like none of it mattered?”
“I think you’re going to marry my sister,” I say, and it sounds so final that it steals the breath from my lungs. “And I think that means we never happened.”
He steps forward.
“Peach…”
“Don’t,” I say. “Just… don’t make this harder than it already is.”
“Look at me.”
“No.”
“Look. At. Me.”
I shake my head, my vision swimming. He’s inches away now, and I feel like I might shatter if I blink.
Then, his hand, so gentle it hurts, tilts my chin up.
And I say the only word I have left.
“Velvet.”
Everything in him stops. Like I’ve cut the wires holding him together.
He steps back, as if burned.
The silence that follows is deafening.
His eyes search mine, desperately, but I can’t give him what he wants, not without losing myself completely.
He opens his mouth. Closes it. Swallows hard.
And then he turns… slowly, painfully, and walks out.
Leaving me there with nothing but tulip petals in the trash and a hollow space in my chest I don’t know how to fill.
I don’t know how long I stay frozen in the ensuite bathroom.
Eventually, my legs remember how to move, and I make my way back to the bedroom. The silence is crushing. My hands reflexively fumble for my phone, and without thinking too hard, I dial the only person I can talk to about any of this.
“She lives,” Dylan teases as he picks up, but his voice softens quickly. “It’s been a minute, B.”
“Hi,” I whisper.
“What’s wrong?”
“I did something terrible,” I say, already crying. “Something so, so stupid.”
“Hey, hey,” he says gently. “I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think. Just tell me what happened.”
“I slept with my sister’s fiancé,” I choke out.
Silence.
“What!?” The word explodes out of him like a slap.
“That’s not even the worst part.”
“What do you mean that’s not the worst part?” His voice cracks with disbelief. “You’re joking. Blair, please tell me you’re joking.”
“I’m not. I wish I were.” I wipe my face, though the tears keep coming. “I’m in love with him.”
“Oh, Blair…” He sounds like someone who’s just had the air knocked out of him. “Shit.”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“Yes, you do,” he says. “You need to leave. You need to get the hell out of that house, out of that situation.”
“I can’t.” I shake my head, even though he can’t see me. “The wedding is in a month. If I leave, she’ll know something’s wrong. She’ll hate me forever.”
“To hell with the wedding,” he snaps. “What exactly happened? How long has this been going on?”
I tell him. All of it.
By the time I finish, he’s quiet.
“He’s not a good man, Blair,” Dylan says eventually. “Whatever he’s told you, he’s engaged. He let this happen. That’s not love.”
“He didn’t let anything happen,” I bite back. “I’m not some clueless girl he tricked. I wanted him. I still want him. It wasn’t one-sided.”
“He’s still sleeping in your sister’s bed, Blair.”
That shuts me up.
When we hang up, I’m raw and restless. The guilt is still there, clawing at my insides, but the ache…
the ache is louder. I grab my iPad and sink onto the floor, trying to outrun it all by sketching anything and everything.
I draw until my fingers cramp and my heart stops screaming.
Hours later, I hear the door creak open.
I don’t need to look up to know who it is. Abigail never knocks.
“Hey, Abby, I’m feeling a little better, so don’t worry. I’ll come out of the room soon,” I say. But the second I meet her eyes, I stop.
Her face is flushed with anger. Not the kind you scream with, no, this is worse. I know that expression. And I know exactly what it’s about.
I might be losing my sister, too.
“You… You slept with Calvin?”
My heart stops. My blood runs cold.
I barely manage to whisper, “Wh… who told you?”
She blinks. Then scoffs. “That’s what you want to know? I just accused you of sleeping with the man I am to marry in less than a month, and your first thought is who told me?”
I drop my Apple Pencil, my hands trembling. “Oh my God. Oh my God. Abigail…” I scramble to my knees in front of her. “Abby, I’m so, so, so sorry. Please. Please…” I beg through sobs, tears pouring down my face.
She doesn’t move at first. I brace myself for screaming, for a slap, something.
Instead, she leans down and gently pulls me to my feet. “Blair, for God’s sake, get up.”
The softness of her voice shocks me into silence. I expected her to start beating me and yelling at me—that’s what I would have done if I were in her position—but I guess that’s how you know which one of us is the better sister.
She paces, her heels clicking against the marble floor as she processes. I just stand there, crying like an idiot.
Then she stops.
“Here’s what we’re going to do,” she says, pulling out her phone. “I’m booking your flight back to Paris.”
“No. Abby, please.” I shake my head, tears still falling. “I want to be here. I want to be part of your wedding…”
She looks up, her eyes filled with something… Not anger. Not hate. Pity.
“Oh, honey. You love him.”
It’s not a question. But even if it were, I wouldn’t have answered. I’ve already done enough. Admitting the truth out loud would only twist the knife deeper.
“Jesus, baby…” she breathes. “Does he love you?”
I shake my head, hard. “No. I swear to you, he doesn’t. It was just… sex for him.”
“How did I not see this coming?” she asks herself as she steps closer. I close my eyes, bracing myself, and feel her warm hand cupping my cheek.
Her tenderness cuts deeper than any scream ever could. Her kindness, in this moment, is unbearable.
God knows I deserve her fury. I deserve to be hated. Not held.
“You can’t stay, Blair,” she says gently.
I nod. She’s right. I shouldn’t be here. Not after everything.
“I’m going to marry him,” she says firmly. “Because I’m pregnant, Blair. And he loves me.”
Her words hit like a freight train. Pregnant.
My legs give out, and I fall back to the floor, hands flying to cover my mouth.
He told me they hadn’t been together that way in a long time.
He told me I was the only one he was sleeping with.
And like a goddamn fool, I believed him.
I threw away my relationship with my sister. For what?
I’m so stupid. So fucking stupid.
“I’m not mad, Blair,” she says after a long pause. “I just need some time, okay? Just… pack your bags while I book your flight.”
Her voice doesn’t match the moment. It’s like she’s tucking me in for bed instead of sending me away.
I look up at her, searching her face for something, anything, to explain the quietness in her tone. Why isn’t she throwing things? Why isn’t she hating me?
She’s unreadable, detached. It makes me sick, how calm she is. She isn’t breaking apart inside the way I am.
Maybe she never loved him like I did, or maybe I’m just a fool.
I don’t ask questions or argue. If time is what she wants, it’s what I’ll give her.
She deserves that much, even if I don’t deserve her at all.
I rise shakily as soon as Abigail leaves the room, tears blurring my vision. Mechanically, I gather my belongings.
It doesn’t take long. I only pack what I came with. Everything Calvin ever gave me, every trace of him, I leave behind on the bed. I don’t want the reminders. My broken heart is proof enough of what we had… and what I’ve lost.
Once everything is ready, I take a deep breath and force myself downstairs. Abigail is waiting in the foyer, phone in hand. She looks at me, expression unreadable.
“Your flight is in three hours. I called you an Uber,” she says simply before wrapping her arms around me.
The hug throws me off. It’s everything I don’t deserve right now.
“I’m sorry, Abby, I’m sorry. I love you…” I whisper, my voice cracking.
“Shhh, I know,” she replies.
When she pulls away, I feel like I’ve lost her forever.
The entire ride to the airport, I can’t stop crying.
Silent tears stream down my face. By the time I reach the terminal, I’m determined to cut him out of my life completely.
As soon as I sit down to wait for my flight, I pull out my phone and block his number.
It’s the only way to protect myself and Abigail.
Because deep down, I know if Calvin called and asked me to come back, I’d go running to him.
Once I land in Paris, I step out of the airport and spot Dylan waiting for me. Immediately, my tears begin to flow again. He envelops me in a tight hug, letting me soak his shirt with my tears.
“Welcome home.”
I manage a weak smile, grateful for his support. Dylan helps me with my luggage. Together, we make our way to the car.
“How are you?” he asks.
I glance at him. “Right, dumb question,” he says. “Well, now that you’re here… I think you should try to take your mind off things; just focus on your mental health…” His words wash over me, but my mind struggles to fully engage.
Time slips away, and somehow, we arrive at our apartment. Dylan parks the car and once again assists me with my luggage.
“Thank you, Dylan,” I manage to say.
His eyes meet mine. “Yeah, no problem,” he replies, stepping out of the room. However, before leaving, he pauses by the door.
“Listen, I think we should go out tonight, do whatever you want to do, you know, to keep your mind off certain things…”
“That’s sweet, but honestly, I feel like being here right now is best.” I can’t find it within myself to do anything enjoyable. I don’t deserve it.
He nods. “Okay, well, if you need anything, you know where to find me,” he says with a warm smile before turning to leave.
I shut the door behind him and sink onto my bed. My tired body hurts. Everything I did hits me like a ton of bricks, and the room feels like it’s echoing my regret.
Getting over this mess seems like a never-ending journey.