by Cecilia Lyra
“I’m going to hug you now,” she says, tears streaming down her face.
“Be gentle, OK?” My entire body aches.
She leans over and whispers in my ear, “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
“Jul?” I say, breaking away from her embrace.
She wipes her face, meeting my gaze.
“I’m not upset. I was shocked, yes. And I thought I was angry with you. But I’m not. I had this dream. I couldn’t find you. I knew you had sent the pictures and you were gone, and I kept running down this long hallway because I couldn’t let you go. I’m not making any sense, I’m sorry. Jul, I know you didn’t mean to hurt my mom.”
Her sobs come in waves. “I’ve caused you so much pain, Cassie.” She covers her face with her hands. “I’m so sorry.”
I think of my mother as I hear that word: pain. Living was so very difficult for her, maybe because my father never loved her like she loved him, or maybe because it’s who she was. I wish she’d gotten help when she was still with us. I wish I could go back in time and find a way to get her into intensive therapy. I wish I could’ve saved her.
For her sake—and for mine.
Maybe then I wouldn’t be this way: hardened, anxious. Terrified of being vulnerable.
“She caused me pain,” I say. “It’s all she knew. She’d been in pain her whole life. She didn’t know what do to with herself, Jul. She was sick. She decided to go. But it wasn’t because of you or those pictures. It’s never one thing. If it hadn’t been for the pictures, something else would have triggered that. Maybe even us going to the same school after graduation.”
“I should have told you sooner. I was such a coward.”
“I get it now, Jul,” I say, thinking of how long it took for me to sort through my emotions. The years I spent hurting myself on purpose. “It took a major accident for me to fully grasp all of it, but I get it now. It doesn’t matter how my mom died. She died. I can’t hold on to anger or pain or guilt because it’s pointless. And it’s not who I want to be.”
She’s still crying. I use my good arm to reach out to her.
“Stop crying, OK? You’re my sister. You’re my family. You and Nana were the two constants in my life, my two rocks. We only just lost her. I can’t lose you, too. I love you. And I’m not mad. I wouldn’t have the right to be, but that’s never stopped me before.” I shoot her a sad smile. “I love you and I want to put all of this behind us.”
“Oh, thank God!” she says and leans in to hug me again.
“Thank Nana,” I whisper to her. “I know I do.”
Epilogue
Cassie
One year later
We did it: Nana’s dining table is finally full.
Craig walks in the front door holding two large bags. He spots Julie standing by the stove, her back turned to him. Then he looks at me, his face a question.
I nod quickly, quietly. All good, my eyes say. Julie doesn’t suspect a thing.
“Four orders of garlic bread, six mini crème brûlées, and six mini apple pies,” he says. He glances at the table I’m setting, using Nana’s special-occasions china. “Why aren’t we eating outside?”
“Do we really need twelve desserts?” I ask.
“Yes,” Julie says, from the kitchen. “We won’t fit outside.”
“Bertie’s porch is huge,” Craig says, placing the takeout bags on the island.
“When are you going to start calling it our porch?” I say.
“Never,” Julie says. “This is Nana’s house. It will always be Nana’s house.”
“All right, but you should know that Sam and Angie are outside calling it their house,” Daniel says with a grin.
“And of course we need twelve desserts,” Craig says. “There’s eleven of us.”
Julie nods. “The twelfth can be in Nana’s honor.”
“And I can eat it,” Craig says. “You know, in her honor.”
“Nice try.” Julie gives his arm a squeeze. He wraps his hand around her waist, pulling her in for a kiss.
“Go,” she says, swatting him with a tea towel. “Or I’ll ruin the pasta.”
Craig lifts his hand in surrender and steps away from the kitchen. On the way out, he winks at me. How can he be so calm? I’m nervous—and I’m not the one getting down on one knee.
I lift my left hand, admiring the plain gold band Daniel and I exchanged on our wedding day, less than six months ago, at City Hall. I keep waiting for this giddy I’m-actually-married-to-Daniel feeling to go away—but I don’t think it will. I suspect Julie will feel the same way when she says yes to Craig’s proposal. And she will say yes. For a while, Craig had been worried there. I don’t blame him—he knows about her first marriage, after all. But that’s all in the past. Julie’s in a good place. She has been for some time now.
I feel a glow of pride thinking of how far she’s come. There are things I expected: she and Craig continue to be in love, she’s happy in her new career. But there are the things I didn’t, too: Julie confronted Sophie, shamed her for asking her to spy on me, for threatening to expose me. For sharing her suspicions with our father. I wasn’t there for it, but I can imagine her delivering her speech with her special blend of strength and sensibility. She made it clear to Sophie that our father wasn’t welcome in her life anymore. I still expected Sophie to get back together with him, but according to Julie that hasn’t happened. In fact, Sophie is seeing someone else. Some big shot at Posh.
It’s been a little over a year since Julie and I were compelled to come to Montauk. I’d been broken when I arrived. I see that now. But this place healed me—Nana healed me. The very things that I’d shunned are now paramount to my happiness. I’m married to the love of my life. I’m a stepmother to two brilliant, witty kids. And the biggest one of them all: I have my sister again. My life feels whole, complete.
“Where are you?” Julie asks. The two of us are alone in the kitchen now. “It’s like you’re doing my fairy tale thing.”
“I was thinking about last year. About how much things have changed.”
“It’s pretty trippy, isn’t it?” She shoots me a smile. “Pass me the garlic bread? A lot may have changed, but you still can’t cook. Or even heat up bread.”
I open up the bags, eyeing the Holly’s logo. I remember how surprised we both were when we found out Craig actually owned Holly’s. He assumed we knew—or at least that Julie did. But for some reason, Nana never told her. The pub is named after Ann—her name was Holly Ann. I don’t know how I’d feel if Daniel owned a business named after the woman he once loved, but Julie doesn’t seem to mind it at all. It’s a delightfully odd thing, witnessing her newfound confidence.
I sneak a peek at the pasta Julie is cooking. The kitchen smells like Nana again.
“Did you find the missing ingredient?” I ask.
“I did.”
“Aren’t you going to tell me what it is?”
“Maybe,” Julie says. But she leaves it at that.
At seven, all of us are sitting around the table. Julie and Craig, along with Ben and Kiki. Daniel and me, with Angie and Sam. And Bella and Jackson, their newborn in his arms. Our family, together.
“OK, I’ll admit,” Bella says, her mouth half-full of spaghetti. “At first I thought it was a little weird, pasta in the summer. But this is better than barbequing.” She turns to Julie. “This is amazing.”
“Thank you,” Julie says. “It’s Nana’s recipe.”
“It includes a secret ingredient she won’t tell us.” I look at Bella. “And we’ll barbeque tomorrow. We have the whole weekend to celebrate.”
“Cheers to that,” Jackson says, lifting his bottle of beer. Sadly, his taste buds are a lost cause—like Julie’s.
“Aunt Julie, when is your next book going to come out?” Angie asks.
“Cassie says it’s soon,” Sam says.
“I had to,” I lean in and whisper to Julie. “She wouldn’t stop asking.”
Julie gig
gles. “It’s in the works, sweetie.”
“We can tell you what the story is about,” Kiki says.
“Julie reads them to us first and we give our ideas and stuff,” Ben says. “She calls us cauthors.”
“Co-authors, honey,” Julie says.
“Wow!” Angie’s eyes go wide.
“That’s so cool!” Sam says.
Julie’s children’s books are a monumental success. She started out small, writing kid-friendly fairy tales on Instagram. Her following began to grow, until one day it exploded. I showed it to my agent, who passed it on to Stacey, the kid lit agent at Bees. After that, everything moved quickly: Stacey signed Julie, submitted her work to a few houses, and got Julie a two-book deal with an impressive advance. The Twin Princesses: The Curse of the Fire Princess was an instant bestseller. Julie is turning it into a series, with the two princesses tackling a different adventure in every book. Hurricane Elle is going to be included in the next one. Now, Julie is the famous sister—I quit the show about six months ago. I’ve been focusing on my private practice ever since, which is a much better fit for me.
“You can help us if you want,” Ben offers Sam.
“Awesome!” Sam’s mouth is half full, so it sounds more like awjum.
They’re cute together, the kids. Maybe that’s what Julie’s next series could be about: four cousins. Although by then they might be five. I quietly touch my belly, giddy with the possibility. Julie is the only one who knows so far. I don’t want to tell Daniel until I’m sure—he’s been wanting a baby ever since we got married. Maybe I’ll get Angie and Sam to tell him. That would be sweet. I’m sure Tatiana wouldn’t mind. She’s off in Ibiza or wherever else with what’s-his-name.
I chuckle, thinking back to the day when Bella went to Daniel’s old house to pack up his things and caught Tatiana in bed with none other than Ava’s husband. Bella had been shocked (Tatiana was supposed to be in Nantucket) but not too shocked to take a picture of the two of them naked and contorted like pretzels (I admit it: I peeked at the picture). After that, everything made sense to me: Tatiana didn’t want Daniel to leave her before the Labor Day party because she didn’t want Ava’s husband to think she’d been dumped. They were planning on running away together. And they did. She seems happy—at least that’s the impression I get when I see her pictures on Facebook. She’s even sort of nice to me now. Civil, anyway.
I steal a glance at Bella, who’s talking to Julie, the two of them tilting their heads back and laughing. I owe my family’s peace of mind to her good judgment. Thanks to the picture she took, Tatiana has agreed not to say anything to Angie about Daniel not being her biological father. Daniel and I will talk to her when the time is right. I’m thinking that might happen soon. She’s still young, but she’s sensitive and extraordinarily smart. She understands, for example, that Julie is my half-sister, and that I’m her stepmom. But she also understands that the prefixes are silly—Nana would be proud of her.
“You look happy,” Daniel says, putting an arm around me.
“I am.” I give him a peck on the lips.
I look around the table again, glad to be together like this.
At sunset, Julie and I go outside. Just the two of us.
We make our way down the beach, holding hands, until we feel the waves brushing against our feet.
“I think she would’ve wanted this,” Julie says.
“It is her ocean.”
“The Atlantic Ocean?”
“This spot right here, anyway. She would’ve been happy we kept the house.”
“And that it’s full of kids.”
“Especially since two of them are Craig’s kids.”
“Maybe three,” she touches her stomach, a sheepish smile on her face. If we were on the other side of the island, we’d be able to see the sun lowering itself into the azure water. But I like the sky better like this: endlessly tinted in magenta and yellow and orange, without a central player.
“You, too?” I feel a rush of excitement. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was going to wait until after Craig’s proposal tonight to tell you.”
I feel my face fall. “You know about the proposal?”
“Oh, please. You two are the worst secret keepers. Also, I found the ring on his nightstand.” She giggles as a gust of wind catches her hair. “I still snoop sometimes. Just kidding.”
“He’ll be crushed. The kids are helping, they wrote a song.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll still act surprised. Promise.”
“Can you imagine if they’re two girls?” My voice is a squeak.
“Summer sisters like us.”
“Sisters,” I say. “Lucky them.”
“Lucky us.”
“Yeah, all thanks to this lady.” I pat the urn gently.
“Ready?” she asks me.
I nod. “Let’s do this.”
I open the urn, slowly removing the plastic bag with her ashes. We recite the poem together, Nana’s favorite, as we spread her remains in the water.
Lucky us, I think again.
Want more gripping emotional fiction from Cecilia Lyra?Order the next compelling novel in the Sisterhood Series, The Faithfuls, now!
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The Faithfuls
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Family always comes first.
Alma, New York is the perfect town, right down to the coordinated shopfront decorations on Main Street, and Gina Dewar is the perfect wife, mother, daughter-in-law. She understands the responsibility that comes with marrying into America’s golden family, and she tries not to burden her husband Bobby with drama from her own small-town past.
But a summer house in the Hamptons doesn’t always buy happiness, and the Dewars aren’t quite as apple pie as they seem. When Bobby is publicly accused of having an affair cracks start to appear in the Dewar clan, and when he denies any knowledge, Gina faces an impossible dilemma. Should she stand by her husband, or listen to her sister-in-law, telling her that there is more to this story?
As the town explodes with speculation, Gina tries to keep the gossips out of her marriage. After all, no one knows better than her that secrets should stay in the family. But then she hears the rumor that Bobby’s supposed mistress is pregnant and she is shaken to the core. With the future of her family so uncertain, Gina is about to find out what she’s willing to do to protect those she loves…
A moving, emotionally gripping novel about family secrets and the space between loyalty and trust. A stunning new read for fans of Elin Hilderbrand, Emily Giffin and Jennifer Weiner.
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Books by Cecilia Lyra
The Sunset Sisters
The Faithfuls
A Letter from Cecilia
Dear reader,
I am so grateful that you have chosen to read The Sunset Sisters. If you enjoyed it and want to keep up to date with all my latest releases, just sign up at the following link. Your email address will never be shared and you can unsubscribe at any time.
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I want you to know how much I appreciate having you as a reader. If reading a novel is visiting, perhaps even inhabiting, another’s world, then surely writing one is creating that world. While readers are guests, authors are hosts. All my life, I’ve been a guest. And now, here I am, hosting. What this means, in practical terms, is that I’m a ball of nerves. Even as a write this letter, I am eager to know if you’ve identified with Cassie or Julie—or maybe both. I am curious about what you thought of Nana’s efforts to bring them together. I am speculating as to your first impressions of Daniel and Craig. As it turns out, being the host of a make-believe world is quite anxiety-inducing! But it is also the highest of honors. Because while thi
s story is fiction, the emotions in it are real, which means that, as you made your way through The Sunset Sisters, you were making your way through my heart. And so, to you, my guest, I say this: Thank you for coming. I am so very lucky to have spent this time with you. I do hope you have enjoyed your stay.
And if you’d like to leave a review, please know that you will be making my day. Finally, if you’d like to share your thoughts with me or ask me any questions, I’m always happy to chat via my Goodreads page, Twitter account, Facebook author page, and Instagram.
Thank you again.
Cecilia Lyra
Acknowledgments
My infinite, heartfelt thanks to:
My agent, Sam Hiyate, for your continuous faith and encouragement, and to the entire TRF family for welcoming me with open arms. Special thanks to Emily Bozik and Terri Brunsting for notes, and to Michaela Stephen for audio work.
Rich Green, for taking a chance on me even though I was rendered speechless during our first meeting. It’s not every day I meet a god-maker.
The entire team at Bookouture for treating me like a bestselling author before I’d sold a single book, especially my brilliant editor, Emily Gowers, for your fresh perspective, genius ideas, and thoughtful, detailed feedback on every line in this novel; Kim Nash for being a publicity rock star; Jade Craddock for copyediting; Shirley Khan for proofreading; Alex Crow and Hannah Deuce for all things marketing; Mumtaz Mustafa for design; Alexandra Holmes, Kelsie Marsden, and Ramesh Kumar for production; and Chris Lucraft and Marina Valles for distribution. I am very grateful to the talented Elsie Roth for giving voice to Cassie and Julie in the audiobook version of this novel under the expert guidance of Alexandra Holmes and Leodora Darlington, as well as everyone at The Audiobook Producers. Thank you, also, to my fellow Bookouture authors. I am so lucky to be a part of such a supportive community.