Chapter 1 #2
I don’t have time to dissect that thought because Belladonna steps closer, reaching for my veil that’s been painstakingly pinned to my head. Her fingers attempt to straighten it, but it doesn’t move. She sets her phone down on the vanity in front of me so she can properly adjust the veil.
I’m unable to look away from her in the mirror. She still avoids my eyes, and her shoulders are unusually stiff. For once, she doesn’t seem unruffled and always put together. There’s definitely something going on with her. Alarm bells blare in my head.
Moments ago, I wanted to flee. Now, I want to poke into my sister’s brain to discover what she’s hiding.
Her phone lights up on the vanity, stealing my attention. A name flashes across the screen, accompanied by a message. Tyler.
Wait.
My Tyler?
I frown as I register another message from him. And another. Why is my fiancé rapid-fire texting with my sister who’s acting oddly suspicious?
You know.
Of course you do.
Anxiety swells up inside me like a tidal wave. My brain works overtime as pieces start clicking into place.
Oh my God. How could I not have seen this before now?
The way she laughs at all his stupid jokes. His annoying way of taking her side whenever I complain about her drama. And that one time I swear they came out of the bathroom together.
A text flashes across the screen that stops my heart altogether.
Tyler: I don’t want to do this. I miss you already.
No.
She’s selfish, but she’s not evil. At the end of the day, she’s my sister. Surely, she wouldn’t do this to me.
Belladonna grabs her phone so fast she fumbles it and drops it. It skips across the countertop and stops inches from my hand. Without hesitation, I snatch it up. Another message comes across the screen.
Tyler: Just tell me you love me, and I won’t go through with this.
It’s not just her. It’s the man I’m supposed to marry, too.
I feel a roar between my ears and a ringing sound. Everything in the room feels like it stops and fades away around me. For me, everything narrows down to that single line of text glowing on the phone that’s now in my hand.
Tyler: I won’t go through with this.
Belladonna is hissing at me, but I twist in my chair to avoid her, a death grip on the phone in my hand. I click on the message, grateful there’s no lock on her phone. I pull up their text history and skim through them as quickly as I can.
“Silvie...give that back,” she pleads, but there’s no bite to her words. I think she wants me to read these and seems relieved.
The messages unfold before me, intimate and unmistakable. Nausea washes over me. Inside jokes that Tyler had with me for years that he’s now sharing with her. A nickname he swore was for me. A photo of her naked on top of him. More photos that I can’t unsee. They sure do like their naked photos.
I don’t recall Tyler ever wanting to take an intimate photo of us, not that I would have wanted him to. Because I know those could be leaked. Belladonna apparently doesn’t care. Hell, she’d probably sell them to the paparazzi herself.
There are people all around us preparing for my wedding and they have no idea of the bomb that just detonated in my hand. I bore my eyes into Belladonna’s, imploring her to say something.
She makes a bored, smug sound. Then, she examines her nails as if waiting for me to say something. I’m sure my drama-loving sister’s anticipating a freak-out.
A terrifying calm settles over me and camps out in my bones. I wait for tears to form, but nothing happens. I feel nothing.
“How long?” I ask, no emotion in my voice.
She opens her mouth and lets out an exaggerated sigh.
“Belladonna, how long?” I repeat, my voice so calm it scares me.
“I didn’t want you to find out this way,” she says, watching me like she’s still waiting for the impending meltdown. “Tyler and I are meant to be, Silvie. We’re in love.”
Love? I didn’t know Belladonna could love anyone but herself.
And that’s not what I asked. This is almost laughable. She wanted me to find out. That’s the only explanation. And minutes before we’re supposed to get married.
What I thought was guilt was nothing more than another cruel trick in my sister’s arsenal.
“How long?” I grit out.
“Five months.” She smirks as if she’s the victor in a battle I had no idea we were in.
Five months.
I nod slowly, blinking and taking in every piece of new information.
For five months, my fiancé has been fucking my sister.
The whole time I was planning this asinine wedding and running my company.
Building a future for us. And while I was working eighty to ninety-hour weeks, this is what he was doing. Her.
I let out a cold laugh. It surprises both of us. She flinches, and confusion flashes across her face.
“We’re in love.” That’s funny.
“Get him in here,” I demand icily.
The room is still chaotic with voices and activity. They have no idea the destruction my sister and Tyler have caused.
“What?” she asks, her eyes wide.
“Get. Him,” I repeat. “Now.”
Belladonna shakes her head and glares at me like I’m the problem.
I stare at her, anger burning up my spine. I hope it’s hot enough to set fire to this stupid dress.
She hesitates, then snatches her phone out of my hand to type out a text.
I stare at my reflection again. At least my eyes aren’t empty anymore. Glimmers of my former self blaze back at me. I hate who I’ve become. This is not me. And I’m done pretending.
Tyler arrives quickly, breathless, tie crooked, and a fake smile plastered on his face. Several women chide him for “seeing the bride” before the wedding, but he easily charms his way past them. He stops short when he sees my expression.
“What’s wrong, baby?” he asks, searching my face for clues. “I’m not supposed to see you in your dress yet.”
I flick my perfectly manicured fingers toward Belladonna’s phone, which still has his text messages open. She holds it up like a badge of dishonor.
His face drains of color, and he quickly looks away. The man says nothing in defense.
Coward.
The room around us has grown silent, everyone sensing something bad has happened. I hear the wedding coordinator murmur, “Let’s give them a minute.” People leave the room until it’s just the three of us.
The silence between all of us stretches on for what feels like forever. It’s thick and suffocating. I watch both squirm and say nothing.
“Well?” I say casually. “I hear you’re in love with each other.”
Tyler swallows nervously and lets out a big sigh. “This isn’t what it looks like, baby.”
Just hearing him call me baby makes me want to gag. My sister bristles as if that’s her pet name and I stole it from her. She can have it.
Belladonna scoffs and whines. “Tyler. She knows.”
I tilt my head and say, “Yes. I know. You’ve been sleeping with my sister for five months. She’s your ‘baby.’”
Tyler winces. “Silvie, don’t be absurd. At least let me explain.”
And the gaslighting begins. I shake my head and laugh at being called absurd. As if I’m the one who did this.
Belladonna lets out an exasperated sigh. “Just admit it, Tyler.”
“Please do. Tell me,” I say as I drag my gaze over him, trying to understand what I ever saw in this man.
He runs a hand through his perfectly styled hair, messing it up. “It wasn’t our fault. It just...happened.”
Accidents happen. Like spilling milk or backing into another car. Their affair was premeditated, sneaky, and well thought out. Anger burns hot in my veins, chasing away the panicky feeling from earlier.
My gut tried to tell me…
“It just happened,” I mutter, mimicking his words. “And whose fault was it?”
I want to scream at the both of them. I’m so freaking mad.
“You’ve been working so much,” he explains, looking at Belladonna for help. “And, with the wedding planning, you were so distant. I got lonely.”
Distant. Wow. I was working and planning our wedding. Doing all of it by myself, I might add. He played golf, worked meager hours, and obviously was busy screwing my sister. I see where his priorities were.
I glance down at my expensive dress that now feels completely ridiculous. There were thousands of tiny buttons that required a special hook to button them, and it took over an hour to get them on. I can’t even imagine how long it’s going to take to get off.
“So, you repeatedly slept with my sister, and it’s my fault? Is that what I’m hearing?”
Clarity matters.
Belladonna huffs. “Whatever, Silvie. It’s not like that.”
I look at her. “It isn’t?”
“He loves me,” she bites out. “Not you. Me.”
Her words, shot out at me like arrows, don’t penetrate. Belladonna makes everything about her, so this response is expected.
Tyler’s mouth opens and closes. He sighs and then looks down. He shakes his head, but he doesn’t deny it.
Something in me finally cracks. Like a snap, as if a taut wire is being cut. I’m vibrating with fury and it takes everything in me to remain seated, seeing this betrayal to the end.
“You were going to marry me today,” I say quietly.
He nods. “Yes.”
Unbelievable.
“And after today?” I ask, trying to understand. “Were you planning to stop sleeping with my sister?”
He hesitates. I knew it. I just wanted confirmation for closure.
I smooth my veil and straighten my shoulders.
I’m done.
And then my father appears in the doorway. “Everything okay in here?” He glances between the three of us and his eyes land back on me, searching for a clue as to why the tension is so thick in this room right now.
“I’m not getting married,” I say resolutely.
My father frowns, confusion marring his classically handsome face. “I don’t understand.”
“You do.” I lift my chin. “I’m not getting married.”
“Silvie, there are hundreds of people out there,” he hisses, shock mixed with panic transforming his features. He glances at the hallway and back at us. “We don’t have time for this nonsense.”
That’s exactly what this is.
Nonsense.
Our mother joins us. Her dress is almost as fancy as mine. In fact, as if coming out of a fog, I realize it’s awfully close to white in color. Well, it’s her day after all, I laugh to myself.
I can’t believe I let it all get this far.
There was something inside me screaming to make it stop and I let it go on.
No more.
She shakes her head disapprovingly. “It is almost time. What are you all doing in here? Why are they saying that you’re all arguing? We need to get ready.”
I meet her gaze and say calmly, “Tyler’s been sleeping with Belladonna.”
The room explodes at my words. Voices rise. My dad looks livid. My mother’s face tightens with calculation rather than concern. I watch her closely, and it dawns on me that she possibly might’ve have already known, judging by her reaction.
She’s not outraged. She’s doing damage control.
The betrayal cuts deeper.
Belladonna collapses into a chair, making a shrill, dramatic sound, reminding me of when she was a toddler. Tyler reaches for me, and I jerk my hand back.
“Don’t touch me,” I hiss and shudder, repulsed by him.
“Silvie,” my mother says sharply. “We can handle this later. The guests are all seated. We’re about to begin.”
I stare at her and can’t believe she has nothing else to say or to worry about besides the guests. That is her reaction to my sister and my fiancé having an affair. And the fact that she thinks we can ‘handle’ this later after we’re married is insane. Literally insane.
This is the moment. The one I’ll think about for years to come.
The one where I decide whether I stay exactly where I am and who I am, or change.
And I’m choosing me this time. I won’t live like this, with these people.
I realize everything I was working toward is no longer happening.
The fog has lifted and I can finally see it for what it is.
“No.” I shake my head.
Silence fills the room as if they can’t believe I’m making this an issue. As if on cue, the music starts playing outside, soft and romantic. The opening notes of the procession drift through the building’s open windows.
“Don’t embarrass us,” my mother hisses. “Just get ready to go out there. We’re about to begin.”
“Me?” I laugh. “I’m the one embarrassing us? Are you for real right now, Mom?”
She swats at my father. “Get them out there. They’re inflaming the situation. I’ll deal with her.”
Good luck with that.
“Silvie, be the bigger person here,” my mom urges, holding up her hands as if she’s asking me to surrender. “Please.”
The laugh that escapes me is bordering on hysterical. “I literally never want to be the bigger person ever again. In fact, we can all go to hell. I’ll drive the bus.”
Her jaw practically unhinges. It takes her a full twenty seconds to gather herself. Then, she scoffs angrily at me. “Stop it. You will marry Tyler. You know what you need to do for the family.”
There’s a twinge of guilt that threatens to yank me back into submission. I know my responsibility to my family and what’s at stake here. But I refuse to be so utterly disrespected.
I smile, and not the practiced, forced one. The real one. At least it feels real. “I’m leaving.”
Her nostrils flare and she stares at me with hatred.
It takes some effort getting me and my over-the-top dress out of the chair, but I eventually manage without help.
My legs are a bit shaky, but my heart is racing wildly.
My escape is so close I can taste it. I swipe an open bottle of chilled champagne from the bucket on a nearby table, take a swig, and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.
Mom quietly barks out orders, but I’m done.
I pick up my purse and overnight bag and sling them over my shoulder. Then, I turn and walk out of the room, past the open doors and stunned wedding coordinator, chugging from the bottle as I go.
“Don’t embarrass us.”
Too late, Mom.
I don’t look back as I make my way down to the pathway to the road. Cabs line the streets, and I lift the bottle to signal I need a ride.
A cab pulls up almost instantly. I open the door, throw in my bag, hike up my dress, and slide in as best I can. I don’t know where I’m going. I just know I’m finally choosing myself. And for the first time in my life, that feels like freedom.