The next day, she somehow convinced every girl in the class that Tommy would cut offtheirhair if he got too close to them. He was ostracised immediately. He apologised within a week.
My sister is pissed. And when she’s this angry, she’s a force to be reckoned with.
“I mean, so much, but in this case, to what are you specifically referring?”
Stop it, Rowan. Don’t poke the bear. But when it comes to Sophie, sometimes I can’t help but prod. She’s always so calm, so perfect, always the together one, the in control one, and I find it almost impossible not to provoke her when she isn’t. To get a glimpse of the woman under the façade. To see my actual sister, who used to sleep in the bunkbed above mine and listen to my deepest secrets, who would reach her hand down so I had something to hold while I cried.
“Angus? The owner of my wedding venue? That’s why you bailed on me? And not only do you not have the decency to tell me, but instead I catch you fucking in my bloody reception?”
“To clarify, we weren’t having sex. He was barely touching me. I mean, I wish we’d been having sex, but we weren’t. And it’s not actually your reception until tomorrow. Right now it’s just a barn. A really nice barn, with some stunning decoration – really, superb, but—”
“That’s not the point, Rowan.”
“Well, I think it kind of is—”
“What happened to you?”
I shut my mouth. This is more than Sophie being Sophie, more than her needing every little detail weighed and under control. There is hurt in her voice. And I put it there.
“You shut me out, and then you bailed on me, and you wouldn’t even tell me why! Then Ethan shows up looking like a lost dog, and now he’s gone again, and you’re making eyes at Angus in the barn? I needed you this week, Rowan. I needed someone to talk to about— There were things I—” She shakes her head. “You were supposed to be my maid of honour, and whathave you done? Did you organise my hen do? No. You didn’t even show up for it! Too busy screwing the laird, were you?”
“I—”
“I told Mum. I told her I didn't want you in the bridal party. That you would find a way to mess it up, that you would quit, or run away, and somehow it would end up being all about you. But she insisted. Said it would be a good way for us to bond, help us feel closer. That it wouldn’t be kind to you to choose Jess or Stef, or someone Iactuallywanted.” Sophie laughs. “Well, guess what? Looks like I was right!”
I don’t know what to say. I fucked up. I should have been there for her: that’s why I’ve ignored her. Because I’d already committed the cardinal sin of running away, right when she most needed me, and I was too ashamed to own it.
Tears prick at my eyes. I try to swallow them down, but they well up anyway, a couple escaping and streaming down my cheeks.
“No!” Sophie advances on me. “Don’t you dare cry! Don’t you dare act like you’re the hurt one. This is supposed to bemyday. For once, it’s supposed to be aboutme. Yet here we are, and Mum’s spent the entire week worrying about you, and talking about you, and trying to call you, and I’m the one who is getting married tomorrow and somehow,somehow, you’re still the centre of attention! God. This is so like you. Why do you have to ruin everything?”
Her words feel like a dozen javelins pinning me to a board. Each one rips a new hole through me, targeting every single one of my insecurities, my failures, with pin-point precision. First Ethan, now Sophie. How many people have I failed with my selfishness?
Sophie’s right. I do ruin everything. I do always give up. I do make it about me.
I hate myself for it.
I hate her more for making me face it.
My hands shake. My head feels like a pressure cooker. I can’t bear it.
“Well, I’m sorry I can’t be little-miss-toes-the-line all the time, that I’m not little-miss-does-everything-right. Not all of us get to be a fancy lawyer, with a fancy fucking house, and a fancy fucking fiancé, and a fancy fucking wedding, do we?”
“And whose fault is that?”
I stop in my tracks.
We stare at each other, out of breath, cheeks blazing. Angrily, I wipe away the tears that keep spilling down my cheeks, that I can’t seem to stop. The fight goes out of Sophie in the silence her words have left. Her arms fall to her side. Her shoulders slump.
“I need to go and get ready.”
She brushes past me, back towards the main house.
“Sophie…”
“Leave me alone, Rowan. Stay for the rest of the wedding because I can’t deal with the absolute conniption Mum will have if she thinks there’s anything wrong between us, but leave me the fuck alone.”
* * *
