I feel a roar between my ears and a ringing sound. Everything in the room feels like it stops and fades away around me. For me, everything narrows down to that single line of text glowing on the phone that’s now in my hand.
Tyler: I won’t go through with this.
Belladonna is hissing at me, but I twist in my chair to avoid her, a death grip on the phone in my hand. I click on the message, grateful there’s no lock on her phone. I pull up their text history and skim through them as quickly as I can.
“Silvie...give that back,” she pleads, but there’s no bite to her words. I think she wants me to read these and seems relieved.
The messages unfold before me, intimate and unmistakable. Nausea washes over me. Inside jokes that Tyler had with me for years that he’s now sharing with her. A nickname he swore was for me. A photo of her naked on top of him. More photos that I can’t unsee. They sure do like their naked photos.
I don’t recall Tyler ever wanting to take an intimate photo of us, not that I would have wanted him to. Because I know those could be leaked. Belladonna apparently doesn’t care. Hell, she’d probably sell them to the paparazzi herself.
There are people all around us preparing for my wedding and they have no idea of the bomb that just detonated in my hand. I bore my eyes into Belladonna’s, imploring her to say something.
She makes a bored, smug sound. Then, she examines her nails as if waiting for me to say something. I’m sure my drama-loving sister’s anticipating a freak-out.
A terrifying calm settles over me and camps out in my bones. I wait for tears to form, but nothing happens. I feel nothing.
“How long?” I ask, no emotion in my voice.
She opens her mouth and lets out an exaggerated sigh.
“Belladonna, how long?” I repeat, my voice so calm it scares me.
“I didn’t want you to find out this way,” she says, watching me likeshe’s still waiting for the impending meltdown. “Tyler and I are meant to be, Silvie. We’re in love.”
Love? I didn’t know Belladonna could love anyone but herself.
And that’s not what I asked. This is almost laughable. She wanted me to find out. That’s the only explanation. And minutes before we’re supposed to get married.
What I thought was guilt was nothing more than another cruel trick in my sister’s arsenal.
“How long?” I grit out.
“Five months.” She smirks as if she’s the victor in a battle I had no idea we were in.
Five months.
I nod slowly, blinking and taking in every piece of new information. Forfivemonths, my fiancé has been fucking my sister. The whole time I was planning this asinine wedding and running my company. Building a future for us. And while I was working eighty to ninety-hour weeks, this is what he was doing.Her.
I let out a cold laugh. It surprises both of us. She flinches, and confusion flashes across her face.
“We’re in love.”That’s funny.
“Get him in here,” I demand icily.
The room is still chaotic with voices and activity. They have no idea the destruction my sister and Tyler have caused.
“What?” she asks, her eyes wide.
“Get. Him,” I repeat. “Now.”
Belladonna shakes her head and glares at me likeI’mthe problem.
I stare at her, anger burning up my spine. I hope it’s hot enough to set fire to this stupid dress.
She hesitates, then snatches her phone out of my hand to type out a text.
I stare at my reflection again. At least my eyes aren’t empty anymore. Glimmers of my former self blaze back at me. I hate who I’ve become. This is not me. And I’m done pretending.
