Chapter 2

I call the landlord first thing in the morning and tell him I'm moving out today.

"You sure, Elena? You've been here, what, four years?"

Four years. When Julian and I first started dating, he wanted me to move in with him. Sasha was the one who said couples shouldn't live together before the wedding, that it "killed the magic." I agreed. So I rented this little place near his office, hoping I'd see him more often. He stopped by once in a while. Crashed for a night. Left before I woke up.

The walls in this apartment have seen us kiss, fight, go silent, and every version of his back walking out the door.

"Yeah," I say. "Today."

He sighs and tells me to leave the keys in the mailbox.

I'm taping up a box of books when the front door swings open.

Julian walks in first. Sasha skips in behind him.

She turns to him with a sparkle in her eye. "So it's settled, right? The bedroom with the bay window in the new house, that one's mine. But I want the curtains changed to pink."

I freeze in the middle of the living room. I think I've misheard.

She says it so casually. Like moving into our marital home, the home Julian and I picked out together, is the most natural thing in the world.

Julian doesn't push back. He just laughs, fond and indulgent. "As long as your sister's okay with it."

"My sister loves me. Of course she's okay with it."

Something inside me snaps. Quietly. Like a thread I didn't know was holding me up.

"And what if I'm not?"

Two seconds of dead silence.

Sasha's lips part. She blinks like a kicked puppy. Right on cue, her eyes well up.

Julian's voice drops, hard. "Elena. What's gotten into you? You usually can't wait to give her whatever she wants. Now you're going to fight over a bedroom?"

"I'm not fighting."

"Then what are you doing?" He frowns. "She's your sister, not a stranger off the street. The house is huge. The room is empty. What's the problem?"

"It's our marital home," I say. "Is she marrying you?"

Julian's mouth opens. Closes.

Sasha sniffles, eyes shimmering. "Sis, I just wanted to be close to you. Forget it. I won't move in."

Julian shoots me a look. "See what you just did? She's a girl. She's your little sister. Can't you think about her for once?"

"Can anyone think about me for once?" The words come out before I can stop them. "You got her that cushy job at your company. She's set for life. And what do I have? I only have⁠—"

"Enough!"

His face changes. He steps toward me. "Be reasonable. She's your baby sister. The only reason I look out for her is because of you. Do you really have to be this petty?"

Petty.

I laugh. A small, dry sound. Then I shut my mouth.

Sasha tugs his sleeve. "Julian, don't. Maybe she's just in a mood."

He pats her hand. His voice softens. For her. "Elena. The decision's made. Sasha moving in is a good thing. You sisters won't have to be apart anymore."

I nod.

Sure. Whatever.

It's your house. Your family. I won't be living in it anyway.

Julian exhales, relieved. Sasha dabs at her eyes and gives him a watery smile.

I turn back to my boxes.

Behind me, Sasha's voice, bright again. "So I really can do pink curtains?"

Julian, laughing: "Whatever you want."

That afternoon, I drive to Julian's office.

In my bag: his apartment fob, his office key, and a client file he'd asked me to organize weeks ago.

The receptionist beams at me. "Ms. Carter! Want me to ring Mr. Hayes?"

"No need." I set the bag on her desk. "Just give him this."

I turn and walk out.

I'm halfway down the stairwell when I hear his voice through a cracked door.

"Saturday? Mani-pedi appointment with you?"

My fingers go stiff on the railing.

Then his laugh, warm and easy: "Yeah, yeah, I know. You want to look perfect for the wedding. I'll go. I'll tell your sister."

I press my forehead against the cold concrete wall.

Saturday was supposed to be ours. He promised me last winter we'd watch the sunrise together before the wedding. He kept pushing it. To spring. To the week of. Finally we settled on this Saturday.

Now he's "handling" me. Like I'm a chore.

I don't wait to hear the rest. I walk down the stairs, get in my car, and drive straight to my hometown upstate.