Chapter 1

Death isn’t the worst thing that can happen. I rip two flowers from my bouquet, tossing one at the base of each headstone. Being left behind is the worst thing that can happen.

I glance at the meticulously arranged flowers in my hand, sorry that I’ve ruined the florist’s hard work.

What does it matter? I don’t need it anymore.

I slump down on the grass under the shade of a large elm tree as my anger subsides, hardly noticing if I get green stains on my white dress. I brush the veil falling over my face to wipe the tears from my cheeks.

I sit in solitude, enjoying the reprieve from the chaos, staring at the engraved words. I reach out, tracing the letters on Chris’s headstone with a trembling finger.

“I almost got married today, sweetheart.” I concentrate on my breathing to get some semblance of control. “I think you would like him.”

I hate feeling this way. I’ve tried to move on—I really have, but Chris and I were meant to be. High school sweethearts. Perfectly matched. I had the ideal, fairy-tale life that most young girls dream of. A house in the suburbs. A perfect job. Perfect friends.

Until the realities of life crushed those dreams.

Until Morgan…

That’s when everything changed.

I glance at my daughter’s grave. The daughter that I didn’t get to know or raise. After experiencing thirty-nine weeks of carrying, nourishing, and loving the wonderful soul within me, I couldn’t process when my daughter was taken away. Whisked off the second she was born to the isolating warmth of the hospital incubator. Something unfeeling and…not me, protecting my baby. The machine succeeding where I failed, and all I could do was cry on the other side of the glass. My whole soul still craves to satiate the need to hold her and fill that void, even after all this time.

A person could go crazy pondering all of the what-ifs of life. I should know. I’ve spent the last five years doing so. It took years to compartmentalize the grief, and now just when I thought I could finally leave the past behind and move forward with my life…could actually be happy again…

I allow another of an endless array of tears to run down my cheeks unimpeded. No one is around to see my mascara run. I wouldn’t care anyway.

I pluck some grass and toss the blades in the breeze. I watch as they float across the lush, emerald lawn. The vast cemetery spreads in every direction, gray markers and shade trees orderly scattered throughout the expansive blanket of green. I have visited so often in the past five years. I know every nameless blade of grass surrounding my family’s graves. I can recite every word etched into the nearby headstones.

“Ashley?”

I smile. I don’t have to turn around to know who it is. Josselyn. My best friend since elementary school and my maid of honor.

“Hey, Josie. I should have known I couldn’t hide from you.”

Though I’m not looking at her, I can tell that she’s trying to be sensitive, something that doesn’t come naturally to her, prone to always speak her mind, much to her husband’s chagrin. She shuffles behind me, drawing closer.

“I know this might sound like a stupid question, but are you okay?”

I snort an embarrassing sound, but it doesn’t matter since she knows me better than anyone and loves me for who I am. It’s a welcome respite of laughter through tears, but all too soon the tears win out and come rushing back. I can’t stop them from flowing. My hands cover my face as I resume sobbing again.

“Oh, honey.”

She plops down, putting her arm around me. She holds me for a few minutes, allowing me a much needed release of emotions that I’ve been holding in for far too long. She’s always been good in that way. Always knowing exactly what I need in the moment.

Most people might wonder how two complete opposites could be best friends, but we have been for as long as I can remember. She has been such an important part of my life. I wouldn’t be who I am without her. She is a relief to have around because she is so friendly and outgoing. I don’t have to make much conversation to feel comfortable when we are around other people. We are opposites in almost every way possible, yet we understand each other so well.

I sniffle, struggling to stifle the sobs. “Oh Josie, I just couldn’t.”

She hugs me tighter. “What happened?”

I pull away to look at her, wanting to gauge her reaction. “I was standing there with Collin in front of the priest, all ready to get married, when I looked out over the congregation and…”

She waits for me to respond, but when I avoid her gaze, her curiosity gets the best of her.

“And what, Ash?”

“I saw Chris at the back of the room.”

Her eyebrows raise momentarily, then narrow as she processes what I said. I look back down at my hands, fumbling with the grass.

“I know it sounds crazy, Josie, but I really thought that I saw him.”

I look back up at her. Her eyes gloss over and her head tilts to the side in thought.

“It must have been his twin,” she finally determines. “What’s his name again?”

“Kyle.” I hadn’t thought about Chris’s twin in years. I consider this. Her suggestion doesn’t make sense to me. “But why? Kyle doesn’t even like me. Why would he come to my wedding?”

Josie shrugs. “Who knows. But that’s got to be it. Who else could it have been?”

The more I think about it, the more sense it makes. I chide myself for not thinking of Kyle before. I thought that it might have been simply someone that looked similar to Chris, but the individual slipped out the door when I caught his eye before I could get a good look. It had put me in such a befuddled state, that I left Collin at the altar to chase the ghost of my deceased husband. Does one desire to see someone so much that they start having hallucinations in seeing that loved one around them?

As the cool air outside of the chapel hit me, everything became more clear, like wipers on a windshield during a rainstorm. I would never be as happy with Collin as I was with Chris. Two people could not have been better suited for each other. He was my better half in every way. We were the perfect match. I knew in that moment that I couldn’t go through with the marriage with Collin. I would never be truly happy with him.

I was settling.

So I ran.

I ran to the first place I could think of. A place where I thought nobody would find me. I shake my head. I should have known better. Josie knows me too well.

I huff in frustration. My best friend is right. It had to have been Kyle at the wedding. I feel as if Chris’s twin had always blamed me for taking his brother and best friend away. I always got the impression that my husband tended to get Kyle out of many uncomfortable predicaments, until he didn’t have that escape valve anymore…because of me.

Then to have Chris unexpectedly die because of our daughter. I felt as if Kyle had always blamed me for that. If Chris hadn’t met me, he would still be alive. That’s why it didn’t make sense to me why Kyle would want to be at my wedding. I would like to ask him but I haven’t seen him in years.

That would be a horribly awkward conversation.

That should be the last thing on my mind. What I need to do is handle all the repercussions that I am sure to face from my family, friends, and fiancé’s family. It was inexcusable for me to just walk out on him.

“Collin must hate me,” I mutter.

Josie shakes her head, her dark curls bobbing. “I think he’s more confused than anything else. I don’t believe he could ever hate you. He adores you.”

“I don’t know how I can ever make this up to him.”

My best friend doesn’t have an answer to that and knows that I’m not expecting a response. We sit a while longer until Josie breaks the silence.

“My ebony legs are getting cramped.” She straightens her dark legs from beneath her beige dress. “They sure look great in this bridesmaid dress though, don’t they?”

I smile at my friend’s attempt to lighten the mood. She’s testing me to see how I’m doing. I wipe the smirk from my face and look at her with as serious a demeanor as I can muster.

“Wait a minute. You’re black? In all the years we’ve known each other, you never told me that. When were you going to let me know?”

Her eyes narrow and her mouth puckers, trying not to smile. “Girl, if you weren’t in such a state, I’d slap you upside that pretty blond head.”

I laugh, the release helping to relieve my anxiety and stress. I close my eyes, taking in a few deep breaths to strengthen my resolve. I turn to my best friend for whom I am profoundly grateful.

“I’m going to have to face everyone, but I don’t want to do it today. I’m going to leave my phone off.” I look at her with pleading eyes, attempting to be puppy-doggish. “I don’t want to go back home with everyone looking for me. May I hide out at your house for a while?”

“Of course.” She looks at her watch. “We might have to drive around for a bit until Terence goes to work. He was able to get time off for the wedding but not the reception.” She glances at me to make certain she hasn’t offended me now that there will be no reception. She breaks eye contact, brushing grass from her dress. “The kids will be sleeping at my parents’ house. It will be just us and some chicken soup.” Her eyebrows scrunch in confusion, then she breaks into a smile. “Is that what it will take to make you feel better?”

“Sounds perfect.”

Her wide smile helps me to relax and makes me feel like I will eventually be able to confront the mess of a wedding that I made. I hug her tighter than I have hugged anyone in a while. She hugs me back even more fiercely.

***

Later that evening, I’m lounging in my best friend’s sweats, flipping through the TV stations to distract myself, when Josie gets a call from her husband. She has been deflecting calls from people inquiring about me all day, not revealing that I’m hiding out at her place, keeping the calls brief. She proceeds to have a much longer conversation when Terence calls. She speaks in a hushed tone. I wonder if it’s something private between them, which causes me to start contemplating giving them some space.

I sigh.

I need to go home eventually and face the consequences. I look up as Josie enters the room.

“Hey, Ash. Terence says that we need to come down to the station right away.”

Did I hear her correctly?

“Both of us? To the police station? Why?”

“He didn’t want to discuss it over the phone. He said that he needs you there in person.”

What in the world for?

“Does he ask that of you a lot? Why would he need me there?”

She shrugs. “In all the years that he’s been on the force, he’s never asked me to come down to the station, but he’s also never sounded so serious. I told him that you weren’t up to it, but he wouldn’t have any of it. He didn’t want to discuss it over the phone, no matter how much I insisted. He said that it’s urgent and that it’s imperative that we get down there now.”

“You’re taking orders from him?” I can’t help asking.

I’m a bit surprised that she didn’t give Terence any pushback. That doesn’t sound like her. She doesn’t get defensive with me, though, either.

“Something’s wrong, Ash.”

“Okay. If it will help him.” I collect a pair of Josie’s shoes and socks. “Maybe this will help get my mind off having to face Collin.”

We drive to the police station, the radio on, each of us lost in our own thoughts and the beat of the music. I can’t comprehend any reason why Terence would possibly want me at the station.

Did I pay my last parking ticket? I wonder in momentary panic.

I smirk at my simple-mindedness. He wouldn’t ask me to come down to the station for something like that. I have to admit that I am more than a bit curious. A beneficial side effect of this distraction being that I haven’t thought about my disaster of a wedding for almost thirty minutes. When Beyonce insists on putting a ring on it, I have to turn the music down. I don’t want to dwell on what happened earlier in the day, but turning down the volume doesn’t help. Now that my mind is back on the subject, I wonder if the staff at the wedding venue cleaned up or removed all of the decorations for the reception, or if they left everything up in hopes that a wedding might still happen.

I’m still pondering this when we arrive at the station. We both give a questioning look to each other before getting out of the car and entering the building.

Terence is waiting and walks directly to us. He kisses his wife on the cheek, but doesn’t smile. Which is odd for him. His face always lights up when he sees his wife. I believe they toned down their displays of affection when around me after Chris died. Both are thoughtful in that way.

Josie’s husband leads us through a few sets of doors to the connecting building. I read Coroner’s Office etched in the glass as we pass through the open entry to a back room where a body lays under a sheet on a gurney. I wrap my arms around myself as the frigid air penetrates my clothing. Well, technically I guess it would be Josie’s clothing.

Terence turns to me. “Ashley, I’m not sure what’s going on here.” His face looks as stern as I’ve ever seen it. “I was hoping that you could help me figure it out.”

“Figure what out?”

Terence sighs. “I’m sorry, Ash.”

He lifts the sheet.

I bring a hand to my mouth to stifle a gasp, my eyes welling up with tears. Just when I thought I had cried myself out and had no more sobs to give, the weeping starts anew.

For the second time today, I feel as if am staring at my long dead husband.

Chapter 2

 The last memory that I have of Chris is the serene look on his face as his casket closed. He appears the same now as he did then.

This can’t be him.

I relive that horribly cruel sunny day in the procession to the cemetery. My family trying to console me in a limo directly behind the hearse. At the gravesite I said my last goodbyes hours after everyone else left, finally placing a rose on the casket.

Josie’s arm around my shoulders brings me back to the present. After the initial shock, I pry my attention away from the body to address Terence. I collect myself enough to mutter coherent words.

“Have you called Naomi?” I question.

“Who is Naomi?” Josie asks.

“Kyle’s wife,” I answer in a hushed tone.

Terence nods. “That was the first thing I did. Kyle was the one that answered the phone. I asked a few questions until he wondered about the reason for my call. I told him that I couldn’t give answers at the present time but that I would be in touch. That’s when I called Josie to find out if she knew where you were.”

“It can’t be Chris,” Josie says.

I nod. “He would never do this to me.”

Terence assesses my fortitude, probably wondering how careful he needs to be with his words. “Is there a way that you can be certain?” He finally asks.

I consider his request. It certainly looks like Chris…only paler. After being with him for so many years, I have every line on his face memorized. As I study him more closely, I notice a few more wrinkles at the corner of his eyes than in the past. Kyle couldn’t have answered the phone. This has to be Chris’s twin.

Before my husband’s funeral, it was easy for me to distinguish the brothers apart by their demeanor, but I was even starting to be able to tell them apart by appearance when they were together. And then my husband died, eliminating the need.

“Chris has a mole low on the right side of his neck that Kyle doesn’t have.”

Terence puts on a rubber glove, the snap sharp in the cold, quiet room. He tugs the collar of the shirt down.

The mole stands out.

This isn’t possible.

The gravity of the moment crushes me. I feel myself getting light-headed. It can’t be. My legs get wobbly. I can’t believe that I am reliving this nightmare. I grab hold of the gurney rail to steady myself.

I spent the last five years mourning my husband. To find out that Chris might have been alive all this time is too much for me to handle.

Why? Why would he do this to me?

The tears start anew. Why would Chris make me go through this all over again? Why would he not let me know that he was alive? Why would he fake a suicide? Did he not love me as much as I believed?

So many questions flood through me. Past questions that were never answered rise again. Answers that I so desperately need to know.

Josie and Terence are close friends, but I still don’t like to cry in front of others. It makes me feel conscientious. Chris always said that I always worried too much about what others thought.

I try to stifle the tears, wiping my cheeks with my sleeve. I’m glad that nobody else is around to witness me making a spectacle of myself, though this office is probably used to witnessing such emotions.

I study the corpse. My heart still aches for my husband, even after so many years. Will I never get over him? Will I never heal? We knew each other better than anyone could know another.

Or did we?

Had it all been a lie?

It had been real to me. I had given him my whole heart. I truly believed that he had done the same. There had to be a logical explanation.

Chris would never hurt me.

Yet here I am, standing in an icy room, never hurting more than I am in this moment. The unexpected deception pounding away at my soul.

Something is being hidden from me.

I waffle back and forth, believing that Chris wouldn’t hurt me and then wondering if he would. Hating myself for thinking that he might. The contradictions tearing my heart apart a piece at a time.

“How did he die?” I bring myself to ask.

Terence frowns. “I’m not supposed to comment on a current investigation.”

Josie bristles. “Terence Archibald Wilson. This isn’t just anyone. This is our best friend. This,” she waves her hand over the sheet, “was her husband. Our friend. She has a right to know.”

Terence scowls, then covers his mouth with his ungloved hand, pondering the best course of action. He stares at us, studying our resolve. I can see it in his face. He knows that he can’t win this battle. He arrives at a decision.

“Fine, but you can’t repeat what I’m about to tell you.”

We both nod.

He walks to the door to verify that nobody is listening. He closes it, then strolls back next to Josie. His voice is almost a whisper.

“He was found earlier tonight in a rental car in the parking lot of Bethesda Research Institute. The cause of death is still being determined. That’s all that I know so far.”

“Bethesda Research Institute? Wait, isn’t that where Chris worked?” Josie turns to me for an answer.

“Yes, it was,” I confirm. “My understanding is that he was top in his field, heading up a new study of ground-breaking research, or so I was told. He wasn’t allowed to discuss his work.”

“Maybe he still worked there,” Josie says.

I dwell on this. “Then why the rental car?”

Terence stays silent as the two of us try to make sense of what is happening. Too much is coming at me at once.

Terence interrupts our confusion. “Would he have gone there because he was sick?”

I shake my head. “It wasn’t that kind of facility. Wouldn’t matter anyway. Chris never got sick. He took amazing care of himself.”

“He was the healthiest person I knew,” Josie agreed.

Terence questions this, “But even a healthy person can have a heart attack or come down with something.”

“I doubt that would happen to Chris as young as he was,” I say. “Even in high school, I never remember him getting a cold. Not once.” I shake my head at the memories. “He just never got sick. I don’t remember him ever taking a sick day off of work.”

“Then why would he go there?” Terence prods.

I consider this. “Maybe he was speaking to his old boss. They were close. He was a father figure to Chris. He thought the world of him and loved working for him.”

“What’s his name? I’ll need to question him?” Terence takes a pad and pencil from his pocket.

“Nick.” I reflect back on the corporate retreats when I would be introduced to many of Chris’s co-workers, searching for Nick’s last name until I remember. “I’m not sure if he still works there. If he does, his name is Nick Caputo.”

I run my fingers over the sheet covering Chris’s arm as Terence makes notes in his pad. Some people might have issues touching a dead body, but I so long to feel close to my husband again. Craving to fill a void that seemingly can’t be filled.

My hand creeps under the sheet to take his hand. It’s cold to the touch as expected. Rigor mortis has set in but not completely stiff as of yet, confirming that the death was recent. I work to unclench his hand to hold it in mine when I feel something metal in his grip.

I pry open his hand to take what feels like a small chain.

I glance over to find Terence and Josie whispering to each other. I take the item, keeping it hidden in my closed fist. I consider the fact that I might be tampering with evidence, but this is—was, I correct myself—my husband and I need answers. I rationalize by telling myself that I will give whatever it is over to Terence later, but I also know that the police will not disclose everything to me until possibly a much later time, if at all.

I meander as nonchalantly as possible to the other side of the room, turning away from my friends. I look down as I open my hand to find my favorite necklace that I thought I had lost.

Why would Chris have this?

How did he get it?

I had scoured the house for my most treasured piece of jewelry a few weeks ago, believing that I lost it forever. My intention of having a picture of Chris in the locket on a necklace was linked to my desire to always keep my husband close to my heart. I open the attached locket to view my favorite picture of him.

But when I open it, the miniature photo isn’t a picture of Chris.

It’s a picture of me.

Chapter 3

 What would this picture be doing in the locket? The photo depicting my eyes staring up at me should be in our photo album at home. Someone would have had to cut this picture up to fit it in the locket. Did Chris take this out of our house? Why would he do that? Why wouldn’t he have just spoken to me? And where is my favorite picture of Chris?

I grow anxious and unsettled due to compounding unanswered questions. What is happening? Is this Chris trying to tell me something? Or maybe he simply desired to remember me, like I did him? Maybe he did still love me? I did find the necklace on his person. But then why wouldn’t he just buy himself a necklace?

Because he never wore necklaces.

Then why would he have taken something that he knew I treasured so much?

I need to get home to look through our pictures. I turn to face my friends, determined to convince them that I can’t stay here any longer.

“Is there any way I can go home? It’s been a rough day.”

Josie and Terence stop their conversation. Terence’s face remains expressionless. My best friend’s face softens.

“Of course, Ash. I’ll take you home.” She turns to her husband. “Is that all right? Did you get everything you need?”

Terence nods, never taking his eyes off of me. “Thank you, Ashley. I know this was difficult, but I really appreciate it. Please let me know if you think of anything that might help. And don’t hesitate to let me and Josie know if you need anything.”

I smile the sincerest smile that I can muster. My hand closes tighter around the necklace in my hand.

Should I say something? Should I let him know what I found?

I determine that I will do it later and apologize then, but only after I quell the unrest stirring within me.

“Thank you,” I manage to say.

Josie and I begin to walk out the door when Terence stops us.

“One other thing, Ashley.”

I wonder what more he could possibly have to say. Is he also hiding things from me?

“I haven’t told Chris’s family yet. I would very much appreciate it if you didn’t say anything to anyone until we make more sense of what is happening.”

I nod. I don’t see any reason not to agree. I haven’t really stayed in contact with Chris’s family.

I follow Josie back to her car. We sit in silence as she drives me home. I catch her glancing at me in the reflection of my window but I don’t say anything. I don’t want to talk right now. She pulls into my driveway and turns off the ignition to turn and stare at me. I don’t return her gaze but I don’t exit the car either.

“Are you okay, really?” she finally asks.

I force a smile. “I am.” I turn to face her with as brave a face as I can muster. “Letting me hide out at your house helped so much. Thank you. I just need some time.” I start to open the door when I look down at what I’m wearing. “I’ll return your sweats and stop by to get my wedding dress.”

“No worries. Whenever.”

I reach over and squeeze her arm, then get out of the car and walk to my front door. I turn and wave as she starts the ignition. She blows me a kiss which I blow back. I watch the taillights fade down the dark street into the night.

I turn to unlock the door and realize that I don’t have my keys. I left more than just my dress, veil, and shoes at Josie’s. I enter the access code on the electronic keypad, enter my lonely house, and walk straight to the closet where my memories are hidden away. After I had taken down the pictures of Chris around the house, I stored them in this closet to keep them from reminding me of the past.

I haven’t been in this closet for years, avoiding any risk of opening my heart again. I kept everything reminding me of my husband safely tucked away with the lone exception of the necklace which I kept in my jewelry box in the bedroom. I wore it only once a year in remembrance of him on his birthday. I recall practically tearing the house apart looking for it on his last birthday, not understanding how I could have possibly misplaced it.

Now I understood why. At least why I couldn’t find it, but not understanding why it had been taken in the first place. It hurt to know that Chris might have been in the house and not held me, or kissed me, or at the very least spoken to me. I wore the necklace on his previous birthday, so it would have had to have been removed within the last year.

Had he been alive all this time?

I fight back the tears as I pull out our oldest photo album, knowing right where the photo in the locket should be. As I turn the pages, I notice a number of pictures missing. Why? Why would he take them? If indeed it was Chris that had taken them. But who else could it have been?

I arrive at the pages displaying the pictures of our honeymoon to find that the photo in question is missing. Chris, or someone, had taken it and cut it up. These pictures are priceless to me and Chris knew that. Why would he do such a thing?

I search the rest of the closet and find that our wedding DVD is also missing. I have a digital copy backed up on my laptop, but still the question rises again, why? I find myself believing that it was Chris who did this. He would be the only one who would know where to look. I refuse to believe anything else because the idea of an unwelcomed stranger in my house creeps me out.

I take the necklace from my pocket to open the locket. I see myself smiling back at me as if hiding a secret from myself. I know the location in the photo to be a Bed and Breakfast in Maine where we stayed on our honeymoon. Nobody else would know the location of the picture, but I can tell because of the hearth of the fireplace in the background. It was the backdrop of the dining area where we would eat breakfast in the morning, prepared by the nice couple that owned the place.

Nobody else would know.

Nobody else but me. I stare at the photo. Is Chris trying to tell me something? Why else would he change the picture? Why else would he cut up a priceless photo? At least priceless to me. I thought to him also. The memory forever captured in time, but now irreparably damaged.

Why take my necklace? Chris had to have known I would be franticly searching for it. But he also knew that I would open it when found. Was he desperate to convey a message to me, or is that just my own wishful thinking?

I shake my head. Am I being ridiculous? Hoping so badly for something to be true. Why wouldn’t he just tell me?

My concentration is broken by the sound of my doorbell. I sigh. I know I need to face the inevitable. I walk to the foyer to confront my latest, pressing concern—which angry person is at my door?

I open it, surprised to find my older sister, Katelyn, glaring at me. Of all the people I expected to show up at my house, she would be near the last on my list. She absolutely loathes me. I believe it’s because she’s been jealous of me for years, but I don’t know for certain since she won’t talk to me. My own sister. I was shocked that she had agreed to be one of my bridesmaids. I think our mother must have guilted her into it.

“Do you know how selfish you are being right now?”

My sister was never one for tact.

“No, Katelyn, I don’t, but I’m sure you’re here to enlighten me.”

“Don’t get snippy and all high and mighty with me. You have no idea what you are putting everyone through right now.”

I don’t want to fight with my sister. I know that I’m guilty of what she is accusing me and that I have some owning up to do. I take a deep breath and struggle to address her with a civility that should exist between siblings.

“I think I do have some idea, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the mess I’ve caused.” I avoid her eyes, staring absently past her at the dark, tree-lined street. “And the hurt that I’ve caused.”

“Seriously, Ashley. You’ve really done it this time.” Her voice lowers a little but is still cutting. “Go get changed. Mom and dad are frantic since you’re not answering your phone. I came to get you to bring you to their house so you can explain everything.”

“What?” My eyes focus back to meet hers. “No. I don’t want to see anyone tonight.”

“Well, what you want to do and what you need to do can’t always be the same.”

“I don’t need to do anything.”

“Of course not. Not Ashley. The spoiled one.” She stops her mocking tone, staring at me, unblinking. “Do you know how worried mom and dad are?”

“Of course you wouldn’t be worried.”

Her mouth tightens. “Don’t change the subject. You can’t get out of this one. No one is going to save you this time.”

“No one ever had to save me before.”

“Oh, please.” She rolls her eyes in disgust. “Chris was constantly bailing you out of your nonsense.”

The anger towards my sister and the stress of the day finally get to me. “And you never got over it, did you?”

She stops what she’s about to say. Her fists clench up as her breathing increases. Her eyes narrow as they pierce through me.

“How dare you.”

It’s too late for me to take it back. I press forward to verify my suspicions.

“He chose me over you, Katelyn, and you’ve hated me for it ever since.”

Her eyes widen as her entire body stiffens. It feels good to finally confront her, to verify what I had always suspected, but I see the hurt in her eyes and I immediately feel remorseful. I attempt to diffuse the tension.

“Do you realize this is the most that you’ve said to me in years? You are my sister. We are supposed to love each other no matter what. We were teenagers back then. Shouldn’t you be over this by now?”

“Over somebody stealing my boyfriend?”

“I didn’t steal him. I wasn’t looking to date him or to hurt you. We just hit it off. We were always destined to be and there was nothing that any of us could do about it.”

I am surprised to see tears starting to form in my sister’s eyes. She never cries. She is the toughest person I know. I can see a deep pain there. One that I don’t know how to fix.

She turns her back on me, marching towards her car.

“Where are you going?” I shout.

“I can’t deal with you right now.”

A sadness wells up in me as I watch my sister storm away. She can’t stand to be near me and it hurts.

“Tell mom and dad I’m sorry and that I’ll call them,” I yell after her.

She opens her car door, turning her head in my direction. Her glare burns through me, making me feel like the little sister I am.

“Tell them yourself.”

Her hair flips as she turns away from me. She slams the door. The tires squeal, leaving marks on my driveway. I watch as she speeds off into the night.

We used to be so close. What sisters should be. Until a boy came between us. Not just any boy, but my future husband. She hates me for something that I couldn’t control. I never meant to hurt her. I did my best to stay away from Chris, but destiny always finds a way. She blames me for something that wasn’t my fault.

Or was it? Am I to blame in some way? Surely I could have prevented it if I really wanted to.

I stand in my doorway. The loneliness of the night bearing down on me long after my sister’s car disappears. My breathing steadies as I glance up at the night sky and take in the neighbors’ quiet houses. The stars and street lamps seem darker than normal. I eventually close the door and go to the kitchen to fix something to eat. I’m tired and ready to go to bed. It has been a long day.

One that I would like to forget but know that I won’t ever be able to erase from my mind.