Snow Falls, But You Never Came

Between the two of us sisters, I never measured up.

Camille Simmons was the golden child—an Ivy League graduate who'd made a name for herself in the investment world. I was just the receptionist at our family's company.

When Camille got married, the wedding was held at the Burj Al Arab in Dubai. The guest list read like a who's who of high society. When I married Rod Pruitt, he was still writing code in a rented studio apartment.

But I didn't mind.

Because he'd once looked me in the eyes and told me, with all the sincerity in the world: