Is it bad of me to want this protest here? So that we’d have to cancel the wedding? So that I’d be free?
The door opens, slower this time. My sister Amelia stands in the doorway, one hand braced against the frame.
Her face is pale, almost translucent, with dark brown circles like bruises beneath her eyes, matching her hair color. The silk dress she wears as my maid of honor hangs from her thin frame, emphasizing how much weight she’s lost in the past month.
“Meli!” I stand, nearly knocking over the makeup chair. “What are you doing here? You should be resting.”
“And miss seeing the beautiful bride?” She smiles, and for a moment, I see the Amelia from before. Who am I to complain? I should be as strong as her. “I wanted to see you before everyone else.”
I’m disgusting.
My sister is dying, and here I am wanting something she might never have?
“You’ve already seen me in the dress.” I cross the room and take her arm, guiding her to the small sofa in the corner. “The final fitting, remember?”
“Not the same.” She eases herself onto the cushions, breathing slightly labored. “Today you’re really a bride.”
Tammy glances between us. “I’ll give you two a moment. Need to check on the mother of the bride’s makeup anyway.” She slips out, closing the door softly behind her.
I sit beside Amelia, careful not to wrinkle my dress. We sit in silence for a moment, the kind of silence that’s only comfortable with someone who knows all your secrets. At least almost all of them, anyway.
“You look beautiful,” she says.
“So do you.” It’s not a lie. Even gaunt and exhausted, Amelia has a grace about her that makes people stop and stare.
“Dakota.” She takes my hand, her fingers cool against mine. “Are you really in love with Cameron?”
Of all the things I’ve prepared for today, this wasn’t one of them.
How can I tell her the truth?
She thinks Cameron and I fell in love last year. Childhood friends to lovers. A fairy tale romance to distract her from the sterile hospital rooms, endless medications, and keep her from worrying about the bills piling up on Father’s desk.
“I—” I’ve lied so easily to everyone else. Even myself, sometimes. But lying to my sister. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be? He’s… everything I could want.”
She studies my face, and for a terrifying moment, I think she sees through me. But then her expression softens. “I’m glad. I was worried about how quickly it all happened.”
“When you know, you know.” I parrot the line I’ve rehearsed for nosy relatives and Father’s business associates.
“He’s a good man,” she whispers.
“I’m lucky.” I am. Cameron is not a bad man. He is just not the man I love, but he could be.
“I remember when we were kids playing in their garden or sneaking to the arcade. Julien and I—” A shadow passes across her face, and her eyes get distant. “We were going to—Doesn’t matter now.”
She and Julien were friends once, before his parents died. Before everything changed. She cried herself to sleep for weeks. Maybe even were in love?
There it is again.
Love.
Hate is more familiar to me. Especially when it comes to Julien.
The few times I’ve been in the same room as Cameron’s older brother since the fallout between our families, his cold assessment made me feel like a counterfeit bill being examined for authenticity and found lacking.
She opens her mouth, but the door flies open. My mother bursts in, a vision in pale blue silk and carefully controlled fury.
“Amelia, sweetie. You okay?” Her eyes linger on my sister, who nods, softening slightly before hardening again as they land on me. “Everyone’s waiting. The Moras are already seated.”
