by Dani Rene
“What?” No. She can’t want this.
“Please, Colton, respect my wishes. I can’t go through this every time I see you with her, even if it’s on-screen, and I know for a fact it’s fake.” Her words do more than pierce my mind. They attack my heart with violent agony that makes it difficult to breathe.
“Violet—”
“Please.” Her plea is clear. She’s adamant about this. How can I make her see that I care about her and her only? When I lock my gaze on hers, I see the determination in her expression. I can’t change her mind, not yet.
Slowly, I nod. “Okay.” And that’s the end of it. Violet scoots off my lap, leaving me cold. Barren. Once again, I’ve lost someone who’s become so much more than just passing phase.
I leave her apartment with a heavy heart. And I realize there’s only one thing I can do. Pulling out my phone, I hit dial on Simon’s number. It’s time to visit my best friend.
26
Violet
I haven’t needed Ida in a while. And if I had to be honest, I didn’t even read her reply from my message weeks ago. When I was still unsure about Colton. I’d been so wrapped up in being with him I figured it was all going smoothly.
Now that I’ve sent him off to do his thing, I open the message she sent in response to my plea.
Dear Frustrated in Brooklyn,
There’s never been a sentence that angered me more than I don’t feel good enough. No woman should ever feel like that. Do you understand me? If someone doesn’t see you for how special you are, they need to walk out and have the door hit their ass on the way out.
No man is worth your doubt. And you are worth more than any person’s ridicule. When others put us down, it’s on them. They’re the ones who feel inferior, but if you put yourself down, that’s on you, and it’s not a good look to wear.
From your message, you’ve told me the date went well. Even though it was only a friendly dinner, it’s a step in the right direction. Learn about him before you go falling over yourself to please him.
Don’t change who you are to make him want you. That’s not how this love game works, Frustrated. It’s true the saying, there are many fish in the sea, and if this isn’t your cod, you’ll find bigger and better one down the line.
But before you can do that, you need to look inside yourself and see where that self-doubt is coming from. I believe, from your messages, you’ve been hurt before. Perhaps not by a man but by someone telling you that you’re not good enough.
Here’s my advice: you need to face that person, whoever they are, and tell them just how much you will no longer crave their validation. You need to release their power over you, or I have to say, you’ll forever be stuck in this cycle of not feeling good enough.
You are a strong, independent woman — act like it.
Yours in honesty,
Ida
She’s right. As always, Ida has gotten it right. It’s not Colton who’s made me feel inferior — it’s my sister. My chest aches when I re-read Ida’s message. I walked away from Colton because of my own fears, not because he did anything wrong. It’s the anxiety that comes from my past, not from what Colton and I shared.
I can’t be with him if I’m still holding on to the pain my sister inflicted on me. That’s my own battle to fight. Pushing up from my chair, I march into Clarissa’s office, causing her to stop tapping on her keyboard and look at me.
“Violet.”
“Clarissa, I need a couple of days off,” I request with confidence, settling into the wingback chair facing her desk. “I need to go home, see my sister. It’s a personal matter.”
Her gaze narrows. Then she turns to face me fully. Her hands clasped on her desk, Clarissa leans forward ever so slightly. There’s a hint of a smile on her lips as she regards me for a long while.
“That’s fine, but,” she counters, and my heart thuds against my ribs. “When you get back, I’d like to talk to you about the journalist position. I don’t want you doing stupid interviews and such. I want you to start thinking about your first article. I’m giving you something I think you’ll enjoy. Tell us about women in general. Give me a bird’s-eye view of life as a working woman, stepping up the ladder to a career of her dreams.”
“You want an autobiographical piece from me?” Shock rings in my words, lacing them, holding them hostage. Clarissa nods, a smile that’s been absent in her expression since I first walked into her office for my interview appears. “Thank you. Yes, I can do it.” I don’t know how, but I’ll figure out a way. Nothing is going to stand in my way of finally having the career I’ve worked so hard for.
“Good. Then let me know when you’re leaving on your mini vacation and when you’re likely to return, and I’ll make plans for when you’re back.” She turns to her laptop, indicating my time in her office is over, and for the first time, I don’t feel as if she’s being rude or dismissive. I feel like I’ve just been given a gift.
An opportunity to have my dream come true.
As soon as I step into my childhood home, the pain that forced me to leave seems to swirl around me from every corner of the house. The living room and kitchen are separated by a thick wall, and the upstairs leads to three bedrooms and a family bathroom. It’s not big; it’s what real estate agents would call cozy.
“Mom? Dad?” The moment I call out to them, I want to cringe. For some reason, I’ve always felt like nothing more than a hindrance to them. Their focus had always been on Victoria.
“Vi?” Mom’s voice filters through the kitchen, so I make my way toward it. I find her at the stove. It’s early, and I realize Dad must still be upstairs getting ready for work. His car is probably parked in the garage.
“Hi, Mom,” I greet when she turns to look at me, her eyes wide with surprise.
“What are you doing here?” she gasps, leaving the pan of fried eggs on the stovetop to hug me. The action jars me. She’s never been an affectionate woman, and this is completely new territory for us. Yes, she was attentive, making sure I was properly dressed, that my hair had been styled, and I didn’t make a spectacle of myself with dirty shoes, but hugs weren’t something she ever gave.
“I wanted to see Vicki,” I reply, and she stiffens, stepping back to regard me. Her eyes narrow as she takes me in.
“Why? You’re not canceling on her wedding? Are you?” The accusation in her tone is cold, biting, and I can’t help but shiver. The emotion from seconds ago is gone. The reason? Because I might upset my sister.
“No, Mom,” I answer. “I’m just here to talk to her. I’m planning on attending her wedding, and the reception, and I’ll be the dutiful sister.”
“There’s no need for sarcasm, Vi,” my mother chastises as usual. I’m always in trouble with the way I word things. Apparently, I have a natural flair for being a sarcastic bitch, but that’s okay. I no longer allow it to bother me.
“There’s my little girl.” Dad’s voice is filled with happiness when he enters the kitchen, pulling me in for a bear hug, and I’m confused at who these people are suddenly hugging.
“Hi, Dad.” Even though I’m an adult, he still calls me his little girl. When my mother calls to talk to me, he’ll always shout in the background, "Say hello to my little girl." “I’ve come to see Vickie,” I inform him, knowing he won’t have as much issue with it as my mother.
“That’s good you’re seeing her. She’s at the apartment. Do you have the address?” He pulls out his phone when I shake my head and taps something into the screen. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I find my father has sent me the details.
“Thanks, Dad. I wanted to see you both before heading to her.” I want to run out of the house and make a beeline for Victoria’s place, but I would feel bad just racing in and out without sitting down with my parents.
“Why don’t you have breakfast and a coffee before bothering her?” Mom asks, so I nod. Instead of fighting this, I should just play the good daughter before they both disown me for telling my sister what
a bitch she’s been all our lives.
27
Colton
Providence. Not a bad place. My best friend, Simon, struck it lucky. With his wife, Bridget, and the loving home they have, he’s definitely settled into the suburban life with the twins and Bridget’s son.
“So, are you going to tell me what you did to the woman who has thrown you out on your arse?” he questions, watching me over the rim of the beer bottle he’s holding. We’re sitting on the porch looking out over the garden where the kids are playing under the cover of a large tent. Even though it’s freezing, they love being outdoors.
“My job got in the way of things. She wanted us to put space between us because she’s scared of falling for someone who has to live a fake life,” I respond, but my focus is on the kids instead of Simon’s questioning gaze. I knew coming here would clear my head. He’s my best friend, the only person I can trust with the bollocks going on in my life.
“And you walked out?”
“She told me to leave,” I retort, gritting my teeth in frustration, but it’s not at him. It’s at myself. I should’ve fought harder, but the resolute look in Violet’s eyes confirmed she wasn’t going to let me stay. She’s stubborn.
“Fair enough,” Simon mumbles. “But you have to remember, if you were in the same position, you’d be going mental,” he counsels, which is true. I would’ve definitely lost my shit with the fact that she would have to play happy homes with someone else.
“Fuck sake,” I grumble under my breath. “I don’t know what to do. If I go back to see her, she’s only going to send me packing again.”
“You have to find a way to prove to her that she’s the only one for you. How much do you need this show?” Simon asks the question I’ve been pondering since I walked out of Violet’s apartment. Since she told me to leave, to finish the show and then maybe she’ll think about giving me a second chance, I’ve been in two minds, struggling with the decision I should’ve made easily.
“I don’t necessarily need it,” I remark. “It’s some extra money, but I have savings, and my shoots are skyrocketing. I have three next week alone.”
“Then you need to decide if this girl is worth it. If she is, step away from the show, let them sign on someone new, someone else, and you focus on your relationship. If you don’t, you could lose her for good, mate.”
“When did you get so fucking wise?” I chuckle, looking over at Simon, who has grown up over the years we haven’t seen each other.
Simon shakes his head. “When I met Bridget, and those little ones came along,” he explains. “I didn’t think I’d be great at being a dad.” There’s a faraway look in his eyes, and I’m sure there are memories of his past that linger. “But they taught me how to love unconditionally, and also, they showed me just how important family is. If you find something good in your life, don’t let it go.”
“God, you sound just like my ma,” I jest. “She used to say the exact same thing.” I swig my beer, the bubbles bursting on my tongue as I watch the kids squealing as they play. “It must be nice not having a care in the world. No fucking responsibilities, no heartache,” I mumble, but I can feel Simon’s stare on me.
“You’re strong,” he insists. “You’ve been through some shit that will always be with you, so have I, but we make it out the other side, mate.” He’s right. “So, tell me about this girl that’s got your boxers in a knot.”
“Fuck off.” Swinging my eyes toward his, I see him chuckle. Arsehole. “She’s perfect, Si,” I describe. “Everything about her is ace.”
There’s an expression on his face I haven’t seen before. It makes me think about him as a big brother, stern, and commanding. “Then go to her. Make sure she knows you mean business. But if you don’t want to, you have to let her go and move on.”
“I can’t move on. We’ve only been seeing each other for about a month. A few weeks at best, and yet, she’s the only thing I think about when I wake up, and the only person who plays in my fucking wet dreams at night.”
“Mate, way too much information for me. I can’t be dealing knowing you’re fantasizing about her in my guest bedroom.”
“You’ve seen worse,” I throw back, knowing my best friend has walked in on me fucking one of the college girls on our couch while we were away at school. He came home early and found her riding me into euphoria. Arsehole threw a pillow at us, scaring the girl off and leaving me with a raging stiffy.
“Yeah, that was then. Now, I don’t need to know about your activities outside of drinking a lager with me,” he counters, causing us both to laugh out loud. I needed this. Simon has always been one to help me screw my head on right, and this time it’s no different.
I’ll stay for another couple of days, give Violet some time on her own, but in the meanwhile, I’ll be canceling my contract, and they can find themselves a new bachelor because this one has just retired.
28
Violet
My sister’s apartment is modern, expensive. An immaculate two-bedroom place furnished in the highest quality. The Italian marble tiles shine so brightly I can just about see my reflection in them.
“I didn’t think you’d come all this way just to see me,” she greets with a smile, but her voice is devoid of emotion, betraying the friendliness she’s portraying.
I turn to her, leaning against the heavy granite countertop, which cuts the kitchen off from the living area. “I needed to talk to you, to sort out some of the past that has been plaguing me.”
Victoria rolls her eyes, a smile dancing on her lips. “Look, if you’re here to talk about the prom mishap, it was all in the name of fun. A practical joke. Now that we’re both adults, I thought you’d have gotten over it.”
“No, Vickie, that’s not something you get over. You insulted me my whole life. You ensured I felt like trash each time I stood beside you.” My voice cracks with emotion, and I silently chastise myself for being so broken and weak around my sister.
She pins me with a shocked stare. I don’t think she was expecting me to speak out about it. Especially now that she’s pregnant, but she doesn’t seem upset about our conversation.
“I didn’t mean to make you feel like that, Vi,” she states, settling on one of the stools at the counter. “I struggled so much. I was angry with you for so long because you had it so easy.”
“Easy?” I grit out as rage burns through my veins. “What do you mean, easy?” She stares at me for a long while, but she doesn’t answer me. I fist my hands, trying to keep calm because I’m slowly losing my cool, which I didn’t want to do.
Vicki stands again. “Stay here, I’ll show you.” She disappears down a long hallway, and I’m guessing she’s headed to a bedroom. When my sister returns, she’s carrying a book. Once she sets it down, I see it’s her photo album. This is the one place my sister kept memories from our childhood years, but it was one of those items she hid from me. I never understood why, but I guess now I’m about to learn more.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
She flicks it open to the second page. There are two photos stuck there along with a few flowers and stickers she included to spruce up the space. “This,” she replies, twisting it around. “Look through these and tell me what you see.”
I slowly move from page to page. Scanning each image, I feel the tears sting my eyes when I realize what she’s trying to show me. With every turn, there are always two photos—one of me separate from the photo of Victoria.
But there are glaring differences. In each one, my sister is dolled up, makeup, hair, even her clothes. None of them are natural. They’re all fake. Even her as a ten-year-old, where I’m playing with neighborhood kids, my sister is posing on the porch with a yellow soda and a huge smile on her face. But I know my sister. The smile isn’t real. It’s pasted on her pretty face.
“You got a childhood, Vi,” she whispers as I reach the end. The day she graduated. “I never did, because Mom and Dad wanted to parade me in those stupid bea
uty pageants. I was nothing more than a dress-up doll for her, and you, you were the lucky one, getting all the fun while I had to suffer through hours of primping for no reason. It’s not who I am, but that’s how people saw me.”
“So, you ended up basking in that life rather than fight Mom on it.”
“How would I have fought her? You knew what she was like,” Vickie tells me. “Nothing I could have said would’ve made her change her mind. She wanted to make me a princess, while all I ever wanted was to spend time with my sister.”
When I blink, the tears trickle down my cheeks. I sweep my gaze up to hers, finding my sister crying as well. I’ve never seen her break down, so this is entirely new territory for me.
“I hated you all my life,” I admit with raw honesty scraping my throat.
Victoria smiles sadly. “And I hated you.” I round the counter, going to my sister, and pulling her into my arms. All these years, we both had so much animosity toward each other when all we needed to do was be honest.
“I’m so sorry, Vickie.”
“Me too,” she whispers as we stand. I never looked at her. I mean truly looked to see what was under the perfect exterior. Just a broken girl wanting what I had.
It’s funny how life works. We always think others have it better than we do, but when we dig a little deeper, we find the ugly truth under a varnished exterior.
“Vi,” Vickie starts. “Are you coming to my wedding?”
“Of course.” I nod honestly before stepping back to look her in the eye. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” But now I need a new dress. Shit.
“Good, because I need a maid of honor,“ she confides with a shy smile I’ve never seen on my sister’s face. She’s always been so confident, but right now, I see my real sister.