I can breathe again. It’s safe to be…me.
She turns and beams at me. “Morning, sunshine.”
She wipes her hands, and we meet in the middle of the kitchen for the biggest hug.
I swallow back emotion and say, “Morning, Birdie.”
“There’s my beautiful girl,” she says as she pulls back. “Too skinny. But beautiful all the same.”
I lost so much weight to fit into my wedding dress that my mother insisted could not be resized. I know she did that on purpose, and it’s another reason to add to the long list of why my mom sucks. There was nothing wrong with my body size. She just insisted I be smaller.
I will never do that again.Shrink to fit someone’s needs.
Birdie slides biscuits onto a plate and sets it at the table. “Are you hungry?”
I smile and nod. She ushers me to her little breakfast table with mismatched chairs. It’s already set for two. She waited for me and set up a beautiful breakfast for us. It’s the little things that I cherish about Birdie. The way she makes you feel seen and so loved.
She pours me a coffee without asking. But, of course, she does. She always knows.
We sit at the kitchen table together, eggs, bacon, and honey biscuits. Tea for her and coffee for me. It’s a comfortable silence between us for a while, enjoying the open windows and breeze from the beach.
But I know it won’t be for long. I can see it etched on Birdie’s concerned face.
“You ready to talk?” she asks softly.
I know she’s worried about me and how everything went down, and I know I would be too if the roles were reversed. It doesn’t make talking about it any easier, though.
I focus on my food. “It was pretty bad.”
Understatement of the year.
My eyes begin to water, and I hate that I’m about to cry for the millionth time. I’m usually so good at locking down my emotions.
She sips her mug and waits patiently. Birdie’s always had a way of bringing out whatever I need to talk about.
“Belladonna,” I say, voice hoarse and lip trembling. “Sorry.” I sniffle and bat at a rogue tear. “I’m a mess.”
Birdie reaches over and pats my arm, encouraging me to continue. “You’re not a mess, Silvie. You’re in pain.”
I swallow hard and nod. “I wish I weren’t. They’re not worth it.”
She nods as if she agrees.
“She’d been sleeping with Tyler for the past five months, Birdie,” I choke out. “They admitted it right before the wedding. Who does that to their own sister?”
“Oh, honey,” she says, frowning. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe that girl. What was she even thinking?”
“I know. I can’t believe I didn’t see the signs. I was so busy planning the wedding,” I mutter. “What a joke.”
She takes a bite of her food and chews as if she’s thinking. Mymom never liked Birdie, and Belladonna was awful. Birdie was always my kindred spirit. Dad knew that and never allowed Mom to let her go. No matter how many lies my sister made up or what she put Birdie through. Birdie tolerated a lot for me. I always hated that they treated her that way. In some ways, I think my mom was jealous of Birdie and me. And Belladonna was just plain mean.
“You’re not the one in the wrong here,” Birdie assures me. “You were planning a life while your sister was stealing it behind your back.”
“Mom actually wanted me to go through with the wedding,” I say through more tears. “Even after she learned what happened.”
“That’s plain insanity if you ask me,” she huffs. “What a terrible thing to want for your child.”
My mom and Belladonna are cut from the same cloth whereas Dad and I are similar. That’s probably why my dad and I are so close. We work together, and we share the same drive in business. I don’t have anything in common with my mother other than our shared DNA. Sometimes I still can’t believe my sister and I came from the same gene pool.
