Page 143

Lizzie leaned around Charlotte to peer out the window.

“Okay that’s what you’ve been staring at. Thank god. I thought you were disassociating for a minute.”

“No…” Charlotte sighed, watching as the three of them leapt off the swings and landed in a tangle of laughter. “I just… everything still feels unresolved. And I feel like I failed.”

Lizzie’s voice softened. “I know. Me too. But she’s not a little girl anymore. She’s going to get herself into situations that we might not hear about until after. What matters is when we did know, we protected her.”

Charlotte swallowed. “I’m sorry, Lizzie.”

“For what?”

“For making a scene on your wedding weekend.”

Lizzie snorted. “Oh. Yeah, no. That was epic.” She slipped an arm around Charlotte’s waist. “I wish I’d recorded the look on her face when you dumped wine over her head.”

“You aren’t mad?”

“I was, for about five minutes when it happened. But mild justice was served. I’ve imagined doing much worse to Victoria, that bitch.”

Charlotte hesitated. “I heard you and Sasha got into a fight… after?”

Lizzie followed her gaze to where the others were heading back toward the lodge. Her expression held no anger. Just understanding.

“I won’t lie and say it wasn’t intense,” Lizzie said. “You aren’t the only one who says dumb, hurtful things when emotions are running hot.”

“What’d she say?” Charlotte asked, tone biting, fists tightening around her biceps.

Lizzie softened, shaking her head. “I love that I’m apparently incapable of wrongdoing in your eyes.” Then she sighed. “It was me. I insinuated none of this would’ve happened if she listened to me when I said Victoria was bad news bears.”

She ran a hand through her hair. Charlotte couldn’t quite make sense of it. Lizzie, with her surgeon’s patience and steady calm, losing her temper. It shouldn’t have shocked her… and yet, it did. Maybe because it was overshadowed by the sheer hurricane-like force of Charlotte’s destructive temper. By comparison…

Stop.

Why did she feel the need to compare herself to Lizzie? It was so easy. They were twins for fuck’s sake. But perhaps Lilah wasn’t the only one who grew up measuring herself against her sisters. Maybe Charlotte had been doing it too, always seeing Lizzie as the perfect one, and herself as the volatile liability.

An unfair box to put either of them in. One she was tired of trying to squeeze into. Maybe it was time to stop trying…

Lizzie’s shoulders lifted with a slow breath. “She did that thing where she just lets you talk yourself out and then calmly asks if you’re done. The fucking nerve.” She released an affectionate laugh. “Sometimes, I wish she’d yell back.”

“I’m glad she doesn’t.” Charlotte stepped away, toward her bag.

“Me too.” Lizzie looked up at her. “Ultimately, it ended up being a conversation we needed to have before the wedding. So you don’t have to be mad.”

Charlotte nodded, grateful not to have a new reason not to like Sasha after their morning talk. “I, um… I had something made for us.”

Lizzie blinked. “You did?”

Charlotte pulled out a small, velvet box and carried it back. Lizzie hesitated, then opened it.

Inside were two small charms, crafted from their father’s old cufflinks. One meant to be attached to Lizzie’s bouquet. The other… saved for Charlotte’s own someday. A quiet hope that didn’t feel so feeble anymore.

Moisture welled in both their eyes in sync.

“Twinnie,” Lizzie breathed. “Are these?”

Charlotte nodded. “Papa’s wedding cufflinks.”

Her fingers ran over round faces, the old etched pattern curling inward. They were heavier than they appeared. Their mother kept them safe all these years. Seeing them now, remade and waiting for Lizzie, loosened something deep and aching in both of them.