“The dress. The shoes. The best man.” She looks over my shoulder and nods to where I assume Reid is standing. “Coming in here like you’re trying to walk off the runway and going straight to him of all people? Tacky, Jane.”
“Literally none of this is your business.”
She shrugs a delicate shoulder. “It’s Kate’s business, so it’s mine now too. One of us has to look out for her.”
“That’s all I do is look out for her!”
“Yeah? Like you looked out for her by bailing on dinner last night to do God knows what with Reid Matthews? Such a great sister.”
“You know, Jessica, this jealousy game is already getting incredibly old.”
She scoffs. “You think I’m jealous of Reid?”
“I do, yes.”
“Oh, Jane. Don’t come running to me when he breaks your heart. We’ve all warned you plenty of times.”
I don’t even have words left for this fight with her or with anyone else. They don’t know Reid like I do, and I’m getting incredibly tired of trying to defendsomething special between us, especially to Jessica of all damn people.
I snatch the crumpled, useless little napkin from her fingers and try dabbing at the stain simply for something else to do, something to look at besides all the eyes I can feel burning on me.
After what feels like an eternity but can likely only be a few seconds, I give up completely. On the stain, on defending myself, on figuring out who Jessica thinks she is and what battle she thinks she’s fighting. I clench my jaw and storm off, mentally calculating how to get Merlot out of the dress without leaving a water spot. When I burst into the bathroom, I gripped the edges of the sink to collect my breath.
Water? Does water remove wine? I doubt it. Hand soap? I grab the bottle and push the nozzle. White foam scented like pears pumps out. I mutter to myself, glaring at the aerated pile of uselessness in my hand. I glance from it to my ruined dress. I mean, it’s not getting any worse, right? What do I have to lose at this point, really?
I slather the soap onto my abdomen, desperately doing my best to rub it in. It only took my four seconds to realize this would not do the trick, but I already committed. It’s far too late now.
As I’m in the midst of this realization, the door opens. I freeze, my hand still splayed across my stomach.
Kate stands there hovering over the threshold, hand frozen on the open door as she takes me in. Her eyes slowly travel down my ruined dress, her lip curling in disgust the longer she stares.
“What the hell, Jane?”
“Do you not think it adds to the look?”
She gapes at me. “Are you serious?”
“Do you think I did this intentionally?” My anger is starting to bubble to the surface. I’m doing my best to push it down, but it’s getting harder and harder to keep doing that.
She crosses her arms over her chest. “I wouldn’t put it past you, honestly.”
I shake the soap off my hands over the sink, grinding my teeth together so hard I may very well crack a molar. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Tears well in my eyes as I look at my sister. I don’t even recognize her anymore. She’s spent so much time with Jessica that she has started to become her. It breaks my heart, and it makes me incredibly angry, because this isn’t the sister I would do anything and everything for. This is a clone of the girl who caused an unnecessary fight and spilled red wine on my dress five minutes into the rehearsal dinner.
I hear slow footfalls down the hall, echos getting louder as they make it closer to us. Now I’m determined to get out of here before anyone else has to see me like this.
She shakes her head, her eyes still locked on the soap-smothered stain. “You cannot go out there in this. It’s all anyone will talk about.”
“What am I supposed to do? Stay in there all night?”
“That or find a new outfit.”
“And where do you expect me to do that? The garbage cans?”
She lifts a shoulder and shrugs. “Beats me.” And with that, she turns on her pearl stilettos and stomps out.
I lean against the sink and sigh. This is why I didn’t want her to know about Reid until the wedding was over. More than over. I wanted her back from her honeymoon, wedding photos in her inbox, coming down from the high of being married before I even mentioned the idea.
