Chapter 2

Julie was in disbelief.

In her eyes, I had always been the good daughter. I was the obedient one—the one who never complained or fought back.

Running away from my wedding was the last thing anyone would've expected from me.

But if I stopped being obedient, would anyone still love me?

Growing up, Abigail had always been in the spotlight. Everyone was drawn to her.

I tried desperately to reach her. The only way I could get Xavier or my parents to notice me was by doing exactly what I was told.

But I didn't want to be obedient anymore.

…

The next day, Xavier took me to see the house we were going to renovate for our wedding.

I headed toward the passenger seat, but he held me back. "Silly girl. That's Abigail's seat."

Abigail appeared at that moment. Xavier opened the passenger door for her.

"Abigail's thinking about buying a house too. She's coming with us to take a look."

I silently sat in the back. "Sure."

Our house was a small detached villa. Abigail's eyes lit up the moment she saw our bedroom.

"The lighting is perfect. It's just the right humidity. It would be a great place to grow the experimental strains I've developed."

Xavier stood beside her. "You can stay here whenever you want since you like this room. I'll have the company's best designer redo it for you."

I stood at the doorway.

When we bought the house, Xavier never got involved in anything. He didn't care where we bought it or how it was decorated.

"A house is a house," he would say. "As long as it's livable."

Now, however, he was standing beside Abigail while planning the room's design with her. They looked like a real newlywed couple.

Abigail looked over her shoulder at me. "Wanda, do you mind if I take this room?"

I turned to Xavier. "You do know this was supposed to be our bedroom, right?"

His expression remained calm. "It's just a bedroom. The cultures aren't going to adapt to a different room on their own. You can have the other rooms."

I slowly unclenched my hand.

"You're my sister. Take whichever room you want," I told Abigail.

Xavier patted my head. "That's a good girl."

By the time we finished touring the house, the bridal boutique had called Xavier. All three of my wedding dresses were ready.

Abigail slipped her arm through mine. "Come on, Wanda. I'll help you with your dresses."

She really did look like the perfect older sister.

While I was halfway through trying them on, her phone rang. She let out a troubled frown.

"The gown I was supposed to wear to an important dinner fell through. I can't find another one in time."

"You can get one here," Xavier said.

He glanced around the boutique, but none of the dresses seemed good enough for him. In the end, his eyes settled on the reception dress I was wearing.

"This color looked good on Abigail. She should have it."

"Mr. Shepherd, Ms. Wanda has been back here more than 30 times for this dress. She even revised the design herself," the sales assistant spoke up. "Besides, no bride wants to wear a secondhand dress."

Xavier looked at me as if the answer were obvious.

He didn't think there was anything wrong with his request. If Abigail wanted something, she would get it.

I pressed a hand to my chest. It didn't hurt as much as it did before.

I changed out of the dress and handed it to Abigail. "It's fine. The dress will look even better on you."

Surprise crossed Xavier's face. Then, his expression softened. "You're such a good girl, Wanda. I'll help you find something even better."

But once Abigail had changed into the dress, he couldn't take his eyes off her. He crouched down and carefully smoothed out every wrinkle on her skirt.

I used to imagine him doing that for me.

I'd been here more than 30 times, yet he had only come with me once.

The sales assistant smiled and said it would be romantic if Xavier helped me with my dress.

"That's so pretentious. We've paid for the service. Isn't that what the staff are for?" he replied without even looking up.

The sight of him kneeling at Abigail's feet finally made me realize the price of that fantasy.

Ever since we were kids, everyone had always preferred Abigail. My parents did. And so did Xavier.

Yet I still couldn't stop loving him.

He was the only one who secretly slipped me a piece of candy when my parents would scold me for being stupid and say, "You're still cute, even if you're a little dumb."

I hid my feelings deep inside.

One day, he confessed his feelings to Abigail. She had told him that she only cared about her career.

Devastated, he confessed to me instead.

I knew he was only acting out of hurt, but I said yes anyway.

I stayed by his side and became his assistant even though I loved art more. I studied the complicated data and confusing documents he cared about in an attempt to become more like Abigail.

But no matter how hard I tried, I could never be like her. Xavier would never love me.

My phone buzzed. "The pottery studio's ready. When are you coming over?"

By then, Abigail had already changed out of her dress.

Xavier casually picked up a black dress and handed it to me.

"Hurry up and pick one. Abigail has something else to attend to. Don't keep her waiting. I think this dress works. It's simple and elegant. It suits you."

Black again. The color I hated the most.

I lowered my head and replied to Julie's message, "On my wedding day. I told you that's when I was going to run away."