Chapter 2

In the hotel lobby, the manager hurried over and handed me a glass of water.

"Mr. Whitman called a car for you. Please have a seat while you wait."

My heart softened a little. Arthur had always been thoughtful.

From the day he started pursuing me, he made sure I got home safely after every date. He always held the umbrella over me, even if it meant getting wet himself. He set reminders for my period and kept painkillers and heating pads ready.

I'd thought that was love.

Now I understood. He'd been using me to make up for losing Clara.

My phone kept buzzing. A video appeared in the family group chat. Dad held up his phone and shouted, "Welcome home, our princess!"

Mom joined in. "Our family's finally together again."

Clara sat on the living room couch wearing a crown and holding a cake that read "The One and Only Princess."

I stared at the words "One and Only." My eyes stung.

So I'd always been an outsider in this family.

I wiped away my tears, left the group chat, and made a call.

"Ryan, is it too late to apply to run the New York branch?"

The line went quiet for three seconds. "Aren't you getting married tomorrow?"

"Not anymore," I said, my voice thick.

He didn't ask anything else. "Okay," he said quietly. "I'll have the office book your flight and send you the details."

Arthur and I had talked about the transfer more than once.

Every time, he'd wave it off impatiently. "You're about to get married. Long distance would be a hassle.

"Besides, your parents are getting older, and you're their only daughter. You should think about them, too."

My coworkers urged me not to pass up such a good opportunity. They knew how hard I'd worked to build a career.

But I'd given it up for my parents and Arthur. Now I was going to start living my own life.

When I got home, my things were piled in the living room. My room had been cleared out.

From the doorway, I saw Clara lying on my bed, with Arthur beside her holding her hand.

Mom froze when she saw me, then acted as if nothing was wrong.

"Clara's sleeping here tonight. I packed up your things. You can manage on the couch for one night. You're getting married tomorrow anyway."

Clara coughed twice. "Mom, why don't I stay at a hotel? I'm used to being alone after all these years."

Mom hurried over and rubbed her back. "Don't be silly. This room was meant for you all along. Now that you're home, of course you'll stay here.

"Wendy's getting married anyway. One night on the couch won't hurt her."

I backed out of the room, stood in the middle of the living room, and looked around the house I'd grown up in.

A row of photos sat on the TV stand. Every one showed Clara at a different age.

Even the family portrait was just Mom, Dad, and Clara.

I'd lived here for 28 years, but I might as well have been invisible.

I crouched down, dug my ID out of the pile, and left.