I check my phone to make sure my flight hasn’t been delayed. That’d be my luck, to get stuck in an airport with Victoria Miller, waiting for her to rub it in my face that Caroline’s not by my side.
“Why do you hate me so much?” Victoria’s words make me yank my head forward, my mouth slightly agape. “You literally ruined Ivy college opportunities for me with that billboard.”
Please be serious.Rage floods through me. “You bullied mysisterfor being queer. It’s not some type of common cold you just get over, Victoria. Her coming-out experience was atrocious. She got depressed…” My words trail off into nothing.
I’ll never forget the day Hazel left her journal open on her bed. There were notes that she had received from other students. Some from parents. No one should ever have to go through that type of hatred—not my twin. Myheart. We’d shared nearly everything with one another up until that point. She had been getting them for weeks, and when I’d hinted, she’d refused to tell me. Deep down, I knew she hadn’t shared them out of shame. Even though there should have beennothingfor her to hide from in the first place. Our parents weren't paying attention like I was. They were too preoccupied with their marital problems.
My gaze drifts toward a family with two young girls sharing a tablet and giggling. Although we have identical DNA, Hazel and I aren't the same in a lot of ways, but I couldn’t imagine a life without her in it. Witnessing the suffering she went through and knowing the heaviness she was forced to carry—how she battled alone, no matter how reassuring my words were—was unbearable. My heart broke into a million pieces when I flipped the page in her journal and read what she wrote. She just wanted to fade away.
“Hazel almost—” I choke back tears and face Victoria. “I had to do something.” I clear my throat and attempt to regain composure. “Then after all you put her through, here you are, out and proud.” I huff. “I was so fucking angry when I saw you in the lobby.”
She exhales. It’s the first time I’ve seen vulnerability in her eyes. “I know, and I’m sosorry. I didn’t know she—” She pauses. “I was sixteen and terrified of what other people would think of me—the poster child. Everything happened so fast and only got worse when I tried to explain my story. The disappointment in my parents' eyes that day haunted me for years. They changed the narrative with the school, even though I was the author of my own story. I let them.”
I can tell she’s struggling to hold back tears.
“Have you ever felt that way?” Through her trembling chin, she whispers, “Stuck.”
My eyes withdraw from hers. She seems sincere, and although these are not the same situations, I understand the pressure of someone creating a life for you. I'd been striving to be in my mother’s footsteps for so long, I didn’t stop to think about what I wanted. Do I truly want to run the family business one day? Sometimes, I’m afraid of the answer.
I nod. “Yeah. I have.”
“I had no clue how to voice what bisexuality was—nevermind the fact I didn’t know what pansexuality was back then and it wouldn't have mattered. My parents were already so homophobic.” Her gaze casts downward, then she slowly lifts her head to face me. “I liked Hazela lot. I think more than she liked me, and maybe that scared me into being something I wasn't. I’m sorry; I know it’s not an excuse.”
“It’snot.”My tone hardens. “You have no idea the type of ridicule she went through.” I sure as hell didn’t come out until years later to anyone other than Hazel because of that situation.
“What do you want me to say?” She runs her fingers through her hair. Defeat is written all over her face. “I am truly sorry…” She exhales. “And I suffered too. I think having a living, breathing nonprofit literally named after your biggest mistake is payback enough. It’s not exactly something I can avoid. Besides that, I couldn’t forgive myself for hurting Hazel, someone I cared deeply about.”
Creating that program seems like one of the few times I’ve acted on what rests in my heart, not what anyone else expects. The last time I remember being myself and not worrying about my blueprint until I was with Caroline.
Victoria continues, “I loved Laurenlight-yearsbefore I learned to love myself. When I told her about what happened, she insisted that I forgive myself because, in her words, ‘you deserve peace too.’” A weak laugh escapes her mouth. “I don’t deserve Lauren. She showed me that love isn’t found, because it exists in everything. We just need to realize that it’s been inside of us all along. One thing is for certain: I’ll never let someone else control me like society did again. Life’s too short.”
We drift into a long silence. She’s right. Isn’t ten years worth of hatred and guilt enough? Hazel only held onto her grudge for half a decade, and here I've been nurturing mine for twice that.
“Look.” Victoria interrupts my train of thought. “The Blakemans talk highly of Elixir Wines, and I enjoy working with them, which means you and I have to coexist. Can we call a truce?”
I stare at her outstretched hand lingering in front of me. Hazel said she moved on. Maybe I should too. A moment passes, and I take her hand and shake it. “Truce.”
“Thank you,” she says, letting go. It’s as if I can feel a decade of guilt melting from her shoulders. “Do you think you could help me reach out to Hazel? To apologize. Unless you think that would open up old wounds.”
I nod. “Of course. I think she’d really appreciate that. The anti-bullying organization stays, of course, but I can make some phone calls to get your name removed from the website. The only way you’ll be associated with it moving forward is with your consent.”
“Thank you. That means a lot.”
The air between us finally clears.
I stretch my stiff neck, until the tension clears. I guess she wasn’t the only one holding onto a weight of emotions. Although I feel lighter after our talk, I’m still weary of Victoria. I don’t exactly trust her but maybe one day I can.
For the next thirty minutes, we talk shop. Victoria tells me how she and Lauren got started in PR and how they connected with the Blakemans. I’m impressed to hear how she rejected her family’s help and built her business from the ground up. She seems to genuinely enjoy her career, and I’m coming to respect her work ethic.
Our conversation continues as we exit and stand by the café entrance.
“I can’t believe we lost to that emu woman and her fiancée,” I say with a laugh. It’s a shame that I let a free trip back to Sapphire Isle slip away because of my feud with Victoria.
“Right? Good for them, I guess, I heard they’re having their wedding on the island now.” She shakes her head. “What evenisa hobby farmer?”
I shrug and check my phone for the time. “I’ll buy you a quick drink for flipping your kayak.”
“Only if you let me buy you one for calling you a pesto-mistic bitch. Although I was kind of proud of myself for that one.” A nervous chuckle escapes when she meets my raised brow.
