Chapter 1
Sienna
Today was absolute hell.
Our cook called out sick, the dishwasher was an hour late, and our cashier was MIA which meant I needed to step in.
I never thought this was what I'd be doing with my life. But there aren't any opportunities for a woman with a Bachelor's degree in Anthropology here. This town is too small to have anything sophisticated like that.
I rest my head back against my car seat and sigh. With the unemployment rate being sky high everywhere, I'm lucky to even have a job. I try to remind myself of that, but today it feels hollow.
A couple exits the diner's front door, laughing about something as they head to their car. They were like that inside too, huddled together, whispering about whoever walked past. Because that's what everyone does in this town.
With nothing else going on, they cling to whatever juicy bit of gossip will allow them to escape their miserable lives for a moment. It doesn't matter if you're hurting or if you've made a mistake. Your every move is scrutinized, every decision judged. And no one cares about how painful that is.
I've lived here my whole life, and I've hated every second of it because I've always been the talk of the town.
It started innocently enough, side eyes and whispers about my clothes wondering why I was, "always in those baggy outfits," or if my family just doesn't, "have enough money to buy me something that fits?"
When my mother would hear them, she'd take my hand and all but drag me to another aisle, business, sidewalk, anything to get away.
I didn't understand why.
She always made sure there were no stains on my clothes, that I looked neat and clean. And no one ever spoke about Aubrey that way. No, my sister was perfect—sweet, kind, adorable—what every parent wished their child would be.
But in middle school I finally understood what made me so different. I was a fat, red-head and that made me a target.
"She's just so big."
"Doesn't she know how to control herself?"
"Her family must be so ashamed."
It was as if I, who was simply existing in my own body, was a walking advertisement begging to be ridiculed. And when I began dating James in high school it only grew more cruel, more destructive.
"She's so lucky James is with her. I mean, look at her. She's not exactly a supermodel, is she?"
To them, he was the golden boy with a bright future. The star quarterback everyone loved and cherished. While I was nothing but a fat slob—a burden. Someone who was taking up too much space in a world that preferred me to be small and silent.
I learned to navigate the world with my head down, trying to make myself as insignificant as possible. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't escape the constant reminder that I didn't fit.
And even after six years, I was still surrounded by them. Having to run the register today and be in the dining area where I could hear everything… It was a curse I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy.
I close my eyes, but that only makes it worse. Their voices flood back—crystal clear—as if I'm still standing behind that register.
"She must be great in bed," a man snickered.
"He must be blind to be with her," his partner said.
"He could have had anyone," Beth said, shaking her head. "Why her?"
We weren't in high school anymore. James was no longer the town's pride and joy. He'd injured his Achilles, had to stop playing, and worked at the local car wash. And Beth was a bitch that no one in town could stand—oh how the head cheerleader had fallen.
I wanted to say that. To fight back. Tell them to shut up. Kick them out. Anything. But I couldn't.
This was my place of work, and it wasn't like we could afford our apartment on James's salary alone. And the few spare dollars we had went into savings for our wedding. But that didn't stop me from imagining it.
If I could, I’d climb on top of the dated pink counter and rain hell down upon every single person in that diner. Because I knew their secrets too, and the picture of their faces shifting into absolute horror as I spilled them all, made a small grin slip onto my face.
One day soon, hopefully.
James promised once we'd married, we could look into moving—maybe even finally go to New York like I'd always wanted. But even though I believe him, I don’t know how much longer I can take.
My exhaustion isn’t just bone deep, it’s in my heart, mind, and soul.
But what can I do?
“Wallowing won’t get you anywhere.” My mother’s words flash in my mind. And as much as I wish that wasn’t true, she’s right.
Squaring my shoulders—a habit I developed as a child—I adjust myself in my seat, thinking about what I can do.
Tonight is our anniversary, and despite everything weighing on me, I can make sure it's special for James. That will at least make today worth it.
With a sure nod, I put on one of my playlists that inspires confidence, put the car in drive, and pull out of the lot.
I pull the groceries from the car with a small groan—everything I need to make James’s favorite meal. My feet are killing me but the thought of seeing his face light up when he sees dinner brings a small smile to my lips.
But as I enter our home, something feels… off. The house is quiet. The air, heavy, a strange sense of darkness hanging in our home regardless of the sunlight streaming in.
Setting my keys and groceries down on the entry table carefully, I peer around the room.
There are a few dishes in the sink and some on the coffee table. James’s jacket is on the couch, shoes askew in the entryway.
James never remembers to clean up before he leaves for work. But there's nothing I can see that explains what I'm feeling. Everything seems normal.
I try to shake it off, but something keeps gnawing at me.
I’m probably just still tense from work, that’s all.
I straighten up his shoes with a sigh. But as I move toward the coffee table to grab the dirty plates, I hear something.
It's muffled, soft.
I follow the noise to our bedroom, and it isn't until I'm in front of the closed door that I finally hear it with crystal clear clarity—a moan.
Time stops. I can't move, can't breathe as the sounds fill my ears.
A woman's moan.
A grunt I know oh so well.
The mattress creaking. Headboard bumping against the wall.
Hips smacking.
"Oh! James!"
That voice snaps me out of it. I know it. Know who that is. But that can't be. It can't be.
I throw the door open and there they are, so engrossed in each other they don't even register my presence.
James is thrusting in and out of her like a madman, in a way he's never been with me.
My world disintegrates. My heart shatters, it hurts, it aches, it's killing me, because the person he's fucking is someone I loved. Trusted. Someone I never thought would ever do this to me. But there’s no denying it. That's Aubrey, my baby sister.
Devastation claws through me, ripping me apart, and then I'm falling deeper and deeper into an unfathomable darkness. The pain rushing through me is so intense I double over, bile rising to my throat. But then something else takes its place.
Cold.
Dark.
Rage.
I don't realize I'm screaming until James whips around, his dick still half-hard and glistening with my sister's juices while Aubrey scrambles to cover herself with my favorite lavender blanket.
My hands are shaking so violently I have to squeeze them tight, press my nails into my palms so I don't wrap them around their scrawny necks and break them. "Get out. Both of you. Now." I say through clenched teeth, nearly growling the words.
"Sienna, baby—" James's voice trembles as he reaches for his pants.
"Don't." My vision swims with tears I refuse to shed. "You don't get to call me that ever again. You don't get to look at me." I step closer, getting in his face. "You don't get to breathe the same fucking air as me."
Aubrey reaches out to me. "Sis, please—"
I turn on her so fast she falls back. "Shut up! I'm not your sister, not anymore. You lost that right when you spread your legs for my fiancé." I gulp, swallowing back the fury and anguish threatening to choke me. "How long? How many times did you fuck him in our bed? In my sheets?"
James tries to interject, his hands raised in a placating gesture—the pathetic little piece of shit. “It just happened—”
"Bullshit!" My body reacts with the force of my shout, and I throw my hand back hitting the dresser with such force that the picture frames, seashells, and mementos of our life together, crash onto the floor.
"You planned this. You looked me in the eye this morning and kissed me goodbye.
You told me you were at work, that you loved me not even thirty minutes ago! "
Aubrey starts to cry, big loud sobs, sending mascara running down her cheeks.
"No! No." I say, shaking my finger at her then pointing my thumb at myself.
"I'm not going to let you try to play the victim here.
I'm not mom and dad. For once, you're going to take responsibility for your actions.
" I throw my hands up in the air, palms facing her.
"You wanted to act like a spoiled brat? Take whatever you want?
Well, there you go. You wanted James? You can have him.
But you've lost me." I step back away from her, away from us, away from everything we used to be.
"No!" Aubrey wails, shifting onto her knees. "Please no, Sienna! Please! I-I'm pregnant."
I open my mouth and close it multiple times, but the words won't come out.
James moves to her side, clasping her hands in his own. "She's eight weeks pregnant, Si. We were going to tell you after—"
"After what? The rehearsal dinner?" I shout. "After I spent my life savings on a dress to marry the man who knocked up my sister?"
James reaches for me. "Sienna, I know you're angry, but please—"
I recoil. "Get. Out. Take your whore and get the fuck out of my house!"
Aubrey whimpers, then something flickers in her eyes.
She crawls to the end of my bed, crossing the distance between us, then drops to her knees on the floor and clasps my hands.
"Please, please. I'm so sorry. I'm so so so sorry.
Please, just give me a chance to fix this.
I know we can fix this. I know we can be a family, just like we were before. "
Family? I snatch my hands back, and she jumps. I look at her, truly look at her, as if I'm seeing her for the first time. And the realization cuts me even more.
"You don't want to fix this for me. You just don't want me to tell mom and dad."
Her shoulders shake harder as she curls in on herself. "Si—"
I snicker. "Oh, I'm going to tell them. I'm going to tell them just how much their beloved, golden child, who has no job, no degree, no prospects of ever amounting to anything in her life, is now pregnant, with her sister's ex-fiancé's child."
I bend forward until I'm right in front of her face. My eyes narrow as I stare into her green eyes, nearly identical to my own.
"Let me be very clear. I hope they kick you out. I hope you have nowhere to go. I hope you suffer. If I find out you’re rotting in a ditch tomorrow?
I won’t care. I no longer care about you at all.
You're dead to me and I hope you burn in hell.
And if you don't leave here in the next five minutes, I'll put you there myself. "
James and Aubrey scramble to dress, tripping over each other in their haste.
I don't move. Don't blink.
Aubrey pauses at the door, turning around to look at me as if she's about to beg me for another chance, but when I meet her eyes, my expression is blank.
She's no longer my flesh and blood, the sister I looked out for, watched over, protected and stood by, even raised like a daughter. The pedestal I put her on? Demolished. And now? She's nothing to me.
James drags her out of the bedroom.
The front door slams shut, and the seething rage boiling in my blood erupts.
I fly forward, ripping off the sheets and blankets, shredding the pages of James's books and hurling them against the wall, throwing lamps, jewelry, everything and anything I can get my hands on. But it's no use.
Nothing soothes the ache. Nothing makes the pain go away and finally, I sink to the floor and cry.