“No.”
It’s eerie how calm she is. She’s getting married today. On my wedding day, I was a bundle of nerves. Nothing could calm me down. Maybe I should have taken that as a sign I shouldn’t have gotten married.
“You and Simon were faking this whole time?”
“Yes, but—”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she explodes. I’ve never seen my sister this angry with me. “I deserved to know!”
“It was your wedding. I wasn’t going to do anything to take the focus off you.”
“And yet, here we are, Layla.”
“Damn it.” Standing, I approach my sister like a baby deer. I don’t want to spook her—or piss her off even more. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t want this to happen.”
She waves me off. “I don’t care about the focus not being on me. I care that you didn’t feel like you could tell me any of this was going on. You know I’ve always got your back, Layla.”
The pain in my heart grows. No matter what I seem to do lately, I keep disappointing everyone around me.
Erica.
Simon.
Gemma.
The entire fucking town.
“What was I supposed to say? ‘Hey, Gem. The town things I’m a harlot because I’m single and design my own lingerie, and to get them off my back Simon is going to pretend to date me because it looks better? Oh, but wait, I accidentally said we were getting married because the old bats couldn’t handle a single woman being successful in her own right.’”
My breath leaves me in a rush. When I brave the courage to look at Gemma, she’s smiling.
“Since when do you care what everyone in town thinks?”
“Since it could ruin my business.” Theduhis implied.
“Are they really going to shut you down?” she asks.
“Yup.” The p pops off my tongue. I toss the notice at her. “It’s official.”
“And you’re going to let this be the end of Pinstripes & Push-Ups?” She crumples up the paper and tosses it into the overflowing trash.
It’s a never-ending cycle. First with Erica and now with Gemma. “What am I supposed to do? I need a store to sell my clothes.”
She waves me off. “This isn’t the Layla I know.”
“Oh yeah? Who is the Layla you know?” Crossing my arms, I sink back into my chair.
Gemma comes up and grabs my hands. “The Layla I know is a badass. She wouldn’t let someone like that douchebag, Brad, and Mrs. Bush stop you from going after what you really want. So you lost the store? Big deal. There’s other ways to sell things these days. The Layla I know wouldn’t go down without a fight.”
Tears well in my eyes at her words.
“And what about the other…situation?”
I don’t know how else to word it.
“Simon? It’s all fake, right?” Her question is leading.
Did it start out as fake? Yes.
