For a second I’d really thought that Liam was going to put me first.
I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes until I saw stars.
Just getting out that last “okay” had taken everything I had. It was only one word, but it felt like swallowing glass.Because what else was I supposed to say?No, actually, I’m not okay with this. I’m tired of waiting. I’m tired of coming second. For once in my life, I want to be someone’s priority.
I couldn’t say any of that. So I’d said okay, and I’d let him go, and now I was sitting in my car staring out my windshield with nowhere to be. I drove home in a daze and went straight to my room, lying on my childhood bed and staring at the ceiling, wondering why I’d ever let myself hope for anything different.
I’d spent so many nights lying here, dreaming about a life where I wasn’t just Drew’s twin sister. Where I was the main character of my own story.
Funny how some things never changed.
The thing about being a twin—especially being Drew’s twin—was that comparison was inevitable. He was louder, more competitive, moreeverything. People gravitated toward him like he had his own magnetic field, and I learned early that fighting for attention was exhausting and ultimately pointless.
So I stopped fighting. I became the easygoing one. The low-maintenance sister who never complained, never demanded, never asked for more than she was given.
It was safer that way. If you didn’t ask for much, you couldn’t be disappointed when you didn’t get it.
But somewhere along the line, easygoing had turned into invisible. And I was starting to wonder if I’d made myself so small that no one could see me anymore.
Chris certainly hadn’t seen me. He’d looked right through me to someone more exciting, more adventurous, more worth the effort.
And now here I was, being understanding and supportive while the man I had fallen in love with chose my brother over me. Again.
I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes.
Stop, I told myself.You’re being unfair. Drew is genuinely hurting, and Liam is being a good friend. This isn’t about you.
But that was the problem, wasn’t it? It was never about me.
The week that followed was an exercise in being fine.
Liam stayed with Drew, and I understood why.
I did.
Harper leaving had wrecked my brother, and Rory needed stability, and Liam was the kind of loyal friend who showed up when it mattered.
I just wished, for once, that I was the person who mattered.
I’d texted Drew to check in regularly—because it wasn’t his fault I was the second twin.
Liam had also texted me updates that I responded to with supportive words and heart emojis and told myself this was what a good partner did. She understood. She didn’t make demands. She waited.
I was so fucking good at waiting.
Because that’s what I did. I waited for other people and I made things easy. I didn’t burden people with my feelings or my needs. I swallowed the disappointment and carried on, and everyone got to believe I was the easygoing one who never asked for too much.
A part of me was itching to go check on my brother and see him for myself, but if I went to Drew’s while Liam was there, I’d have to pretend. I’d have to stand in the same room as himand act like we were nothing more than friends, like the last few months hadn’t happened, like my heart wasn’t quietly breaking every time I thought about how easily he’d put me on hold.
And I wasn’t sure I could maintain theeverything’s fineact in person. Not when I was barely holding it together over text.
So I stayed in Meadowbrook. I taught little girls their pliés. I had dinner with my parents. I smiled and nodded and pretended everything was fine.
I’d had a lifetime of practice.
By Friday, I was exhausted. Not physically—my body could handle the dance classes, the long days, the restless nights. But emotionally, I felt hollowed out. Like someone had scooped out everything inside me and left only the shell behind.
Liam called that afternoon to say he was heading back to Meadowbrook. His mom needed help with something, and Drew seemed stable enough to manage alone.
