Chapter 2

At three in the morning, noise from the living room woke me up.

I cracked my door open and saw Blair curled up on the couch in nothing but a white button-down shirt, her bare legs tucked under her, sipping milk.

Sterling crouched in front of her, massaging her feet.

"My sweetie, how many times do I have to tell you not to walk barefoot on these tiles?"

"You call me at this ungodly hour saying your feet hurt, so I rush over here like a madman. Don't you know I have important business tomorrow?"

Blair giggled and whined, "Well, tomorrow you will be my husband instead of my brother. I'm nervous."

He flicked her forehead. "I can be whoever you want. Just go to sleep. I need to get ready."

She tilted her head, batting her eyes at him. "You came all this way. Aren't you going to see Harper?"

"She spent forever throwing up in the bathroom today. She's obviously still upset about all this."

Sterling paused mid-step.

"She's fine." His tone was flat. "She's not as delicate as you. She'll be fine once she gets it out of her system."

"Besides, I need her help tomorrow. She planned the entire ceremony. She knows every detail. Let her sleep."

He reached out and tapped her nose. "You worry too much. You're the bride tomorrow. Get some rest."

Blair giggled and swatted his hand. "Okay, okay. Go back and get ready."

I stood behind the door, caught between pathetic and absurd.

Six months ago, my parents demanded Sterling give them fifty thousand dollars upfront for "family expenses."

They weren't satisfied with the amount we'd agreed on and kept calling, threatening to cause a scene at his office.

I refused to ask him for more money and got into a screaming match with my father.

He grabbed his belt and beat me until I couldn't stand up anymore.

That night was late too and I couldn't take the pain anymore and called Sterling.

All he said was, "That's just how your parents are. I'll give them whatever they want. Don't fight them on it. I'll come get you tomorrow."

That night, I was in agony. But he never came.

Because the person who could make him rush over at three in the morning was never me.

I was about to turn back to bed when Blair brought up something else, laughing.

"By the way, I really have to thank my sister for planning this whole ceremony for us."

I froze.

"She originally chose champagne gold as the color scheme, but you fought for pink instead. This is literally my dream wedding."

Sterling's voice was indulgent. "As long as you're happy."

My heart, which I thought had gone numb, twisted sharply.

For this wedding, I spent three months visiting every event planner in the city.

In the end, just because he said "pink suits a wedding better," I stayed up all night redoing the entire plan.

Back then, I thought he had a romantic side and wanted to make him happy.

Turns out, even the wedding was someone else's stage.

I wasn't the bride. I wasn't even a guest. Just a tool.

A tool who would show up tomorrow to greet guests, oversee the program, and make sure everything ran smoothly.

I walked back to bed in a daze.

Blair's laughter filtered through the door, muffled and grating.

It echoed in my head like a curse.