Chapter 2

I left the Sinclair house alone.

Derek didn't call until that evening.

"What were you trying to say this afternoon?"

"Nothing."

I paused, then asked anyway. "Derek, don't you think Natalie's been crossing the line?"

"Our trip, the wedding, the apartment after the wedding. She has to be involved in everything. She's my friend, not a third person in our relationship."

Two seconds of silence, then he laughed.

"So that's what this is about."

"Natalie says the same thing every day: 'You two are perfect together.' If she had ulterior motives, would she really push us together this hard?"

"You're not great with my parents, and she happens to be charming. She keeps them happy for you. Isn't that doing you a favor?"

I stared at the shop window across the street.

He'd never once asked whether I wanted Natalie speaking on my behalf.

Every time I tried to express something honestly, the Sinclairs found me unlikable.

Natalie would wrap the same words in a smile and a sweet voice, and they'd call her considerate.

The more she "performed" for me, the more they felt I fell short of her in every way.

Derek was still talking. "After the wedding, I'll have her move out of the apartment. Stop making a fuss over your own best friend."

When the apartment was finished, Natalie had said she wanted to test the layout for us, just two nights.

Two nights turned into a week.

She put her skincare in my bathroom, hung her clothes in my closet, and told Elaine, "I'm keeping an eye on things so Derek doesn't push Audrey around after the wedding."

She'd also created a wedding planning group chat.

The group was called "Audrey and Derek's Happily-Ever-After Squad."

When the planner asked what flowers I liked, Natalie answered first, saying I didn't go for anything showy, and picked white roses, her own favorite.

When the hotel sent the menu, she said I was too busy and told everyone to just go with her choices.

I deleted the changes she'd made. She joked in the group chat:

“The bride is taking this way too seriously! I just wanted to lighten her load. Don't hold it against her for not humoring her best friend.”

Everyone sent smiley faces, as if I were the one ruining the mood.

Eventually, Elaine started dropping by the apartment every other day to see Natalie.

I was the one who was supposed to live there. Instead, I'd become the unwelcome one.

"Oh, and," Derek continued, "Natalie wants to be the maid of honor and hold your bouquet during the ceremony. I already said yes."

"Derek, let's break up."

Two seconds of silence on the other end.

"Over a maid of honor?"

"If you don't want that, I'll talk to Natalie. Stop using a breakup to scare me."

"The wedding's in three days. Cool down, and then we'll talk."

He hung up.

The next day, a set of photos appeared in the family group chat.

Natalie was wearing my wedding dress, standing beside Derek in a tailored suit.

She had her arm linked through his, smiling like the real bride.

“It's such a shame Audrey couldn't make it to LA. This gorgeous dress was just sitting there, so as their number one supporter, I had to try it on and see how it looked on camera.”

Then she tagged me directly:

“Audrey won't mind, right? Everything I've done is to make your wedding even better.

The group chat erupted with compliments.”

Elaine wrote: “Natalie looks so elegant in it.”

Derek replied: “It really does fit her well.”

I messaged him privately, asking why he'd let Natalie wear my wedding dress.

He replied: “You two used to swap clothes all the time in college, didn't you? She's your best friend, not a stranger.”

I stared at those words for a long time.

In college, she'd borrowed an ordinary jacket.

Now she was wearing my one and only wedding dress, her arm linked through my fiancé's.

And he still used "you're best friends" to demand I give up my boundaries.

I stared at that message, my stomach turning.

She used our friendship as an excuse to wear my wedding dress and link arms with my fiancé.

And everyone was waiting for me to praise how dedicated she was.

If I minded, I'd be betraying her "good intentions."

My phone lit up.

My friend and colleague Rachel Torres texted:

“Got the Blue Waves tickets for the game in three days. If you want to go, Logan and I will come with you.”

I replied with one word:

“Okay.”