3: A NOBODY

LOLETTE.

The ground seemed to vanish beneath me.

She was marrying Adrian?

I desperately wanted to call her a liar.

But there were bridal magazines splayed all over the table in front of her.

She was looking at wedding dresses.

Her mother had been making calls all morning.

Adrian didn’t call last night.

A burn built at the backs of my eyes, and I tightened my lips like I’d tasted something raw. My hands trembled, but I forced myself to stand a little straighter, to hide the shake. Mabel caught it anyway and her grin widened, triumphantly.

As I turned to walk away, her vicious laughter chased me down the hallway.

Upstairs, a dozen questions flooded my mind... And the more I thought about it, the less sense it made.

Adrian couldn’t marry Mabel.

He didn’t like her.

He didn’t like her, because he knew what she did to me. What her family did to me. He would never betray me like that.

Especially not after... not after what happened between us just days ago.

I fought back the tremble in my hands as I slipped on my coat. There was no reason to cry, because all I had to do was see Adrian and all the nonsense would cease to exist.

He would tell me the truth, that he wasn’t marrying her. That this was some stupid attempt to demean me.

The morning air was cold against my skin, biting at my cheeks like a cruel reminder that this was no dream as I pulled the window closed behind me.

After hailing down a cab, the entire ride to his place left me a frazzled mess as the city woke up around me.

Once I arrived, I scaled the back gate he’d shown me years ago for the easiest access to his bedroom without anyone noticing, before entering the empty space through the window.

It was empty.

Where was he so early?

Then the door creaked open, and like he was walking right out of my thoughts, Adrian stepped into the room.

He looked exhausted—his blonde curls were a mess, eyes heavy and lined with dark circles. The moment he saw me, he froze.

Pushing all the pain into my voice, I asked, “Is it true?”

He stared at me with wide blue eyes, like I’d appeared from some nightmare.

And he was saying nothing.

Until his face fell, and all traces of softness drained away as something hard settled in his eyes. He closed the door behind him and walked in fully, shutting me inside the room with him.

“You stood me up last night. You didn’t return my calls. You didn’t...” my voice cracked, remembering how I’d sat by my phone every second waiting for something from him. “You didn’t text, Adrian.”

There was a vein pulsing in his neck, his gaze was toward the ground, and I needed him to look up at me.

“And now,” I breathed, “What’s going on? Why is... Mabel...” I had to pause, “She’s saying things, Adrian.”

I couldn’t have imagined the sight of the slight tremble in his lower lip.

“Adrian.” Panic clawed at me. I stepped closer to him, grabbing his arms, “Talk to me. What’s going on with you?”

He turned his head away, but I kept steady, “We’ll figure things out together. You can tell me any––”

Before I could say more, he snapped at me, growling, “Enough!”

I blinked, drawing back, shocked at the edge in his voice.

His jaw clenched tight, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

He shook his head slowly, “I wish you’d taken the hints I was giving.”

I pulled away. “What––”

“The night of the gala,” he cut me off bitterly, “you were sad—literally in my fucking lap. What did you expect?”

What did I expect?

I swallowed, heart pounding.

“We’re adults, Lol. We fucked. That’s pretty normal for me.”

Jesus.

I took a step back, hurt circling my chest like a predator trapping its prey.

There was no escaping it.

His eyes bored into mine. “If you came all this way to find out, then the answer you’re looking for is yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yeah,” he echoed darkly, “I’m getting married. I’m marrying your sister.”

The words hit me like a fist. On delicate glass.

He called her my sister.

I shook my head as a tear slipped down my cheek, “You didn’t just say that to me.”

“I did. And I’ll say it again. I’m marrying Mabel, your sister. She and I are going to be husband and wife, and you’re going to be my sister-in-law.”

I reached out and slapped him.

His head whipped to the side with the force of it, and I watched his jaw tighten.

“You had sex with me three days ago and you’re standing in front of me and saying you’re marrying that wretch? That bully?”

“It was consensual.”

“Fuck you, Adrian.”

He rubbed his face, “I think it’s best if we don’t see each other anymore.”

My heart shattered all over again.

“That night means more to you than it did to me,” he said quietly. “It’s putting stupid ideas in your head. My marriage to Mabel… it just makes more sense. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and you and I could never work out even if I’d consider it. You need to understand that. You’re not––” he cut himself off, inhaling deeply. “You’re a nobody, Lolette. It would be a disgrace to my family if I chose you, the adopted one, over her.”

I stood there.

Numb and broken.

My voice shook, “You didn’t know that before you slept with me?”

He was my first.

He was my first everything.

Adrian shook his head, “I can barely even remember that night, so you should forget about it too.” He turned away. “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea. But now, you need to leave.”

This couldn’t be happening.

Adrian couldn’t possibly mean any of this.

“Something’s wrong,” I whispered, “Tell me what it is.” A tear slipped down my cheek again, “Please don’t do this to m––”

He lost his temper, “We will never fucking work. Stay the fuck away from me!” He growled, turning to face me, “Don’t come to the fucking wedding, don’t send your regards. Forget about me. Because that’s exactly what I’m going to do regarding you. I wasted my time these last four years befriending you. Sev warned me, so did Sasha, but I never fucking listened.” He stepped toward me, “Whatever we had is over. Friendship, fun, a one night stand. All of it.”

The best night of my life was a one night stand to him?

My hands fell weakly to my sides.

“I have a wedding to plan.” He said, “Be gone by the time I’m back or I’ll notify security and have them throw you out.”

And then he walked away, leaving me alone to mourn everything I once believed we genuinely shared.

––*––

It took nearly an hour to reach the cemetery, breathless and dirty, my cheek burning from the altercation that took place once I went back home.

Mabel came to shove her victory in my face and I wasn't having any of it. But slamming the door shut in her face didn’t sit well with her father.

My stinging cheek could attest to it.

I sank to my mother’s tombstone and let the grief consume me. I bawled brokenly.

She wasn’t here to help with the pain, but she was the only one I wanted to confide in.

Up until this morning, it was her and someone else.

But now she was all I had left.

And she was gone.

An accident five years ago killed her. My father was gone years before that. The man my mother had remarried had fucked odd to God knew where.

I’d never felt so alone.

I was drowning in grief when a car pulled up nearby.

My attention was drawn as an older woman stepped out, grey streaking through her hair. When she saw me, something flickered in her eyes.

Shock.

And then disbelief.

The emotions contoured the old woman’s face.

“It can’t be,” she whispered.

I wiped my tears and stared at her.

She took a cautious step closer. “You look just like her…”

I said nothing.

“Do you remember me?” she asked gently.

I took her in, my eyes trailing over her form, then darting back to the car as a younger man in a suit stepped out from the driver’s side.

Turning my gaze back to her, I asked, “I look so much like who?”

She came closer, and that’s when I noticed the tears in her eyes, “Oh sweetheart,” she cooed, touching her hands to her chest, “It’s me, Lol. Fanny,” she sniffled. “Fanny Miller.”

Recognition struck me like lightning.

“Fanny,” I breathed, addressing my grandmother for the first time in years.

I was barely ten the last time I saw her.

She reached out and gently urged me up. “Come. Get off the ground. Let’s get you warm.”

She led me to a sleek, black Range Rover.

I wanted to protest, to hesitate, but the pain pushed me inside, desperate for shelter from everything I was drowning in.