04: Always Second Place

→ Agatha ←

My car rolled to a stop outside the Sinclair Estate just before noon, and I sat behind the wheel for a few moments, watching the house through the windshield. It was Sunday, which meant it was time for our family's monthly gathering.

Ever since my twin sister Naomi and I had married and moved into our husbands' homes, my parents had insisted that the last Sunday of every month would remain reserved for family.

They called it a way to keep the family together. There was something comforting about returning to the estate. I had spent most of my childhood within those walls, and it still carried most of my life memories.

Even after marriage had taken us into different homes, coming back here still felt like returning to a part of myself.

I stepped out of the car, adjusted my dress, and made my way through the front entrance.

The house was quiet, but I could hear voices and the faint clinking of cutlery coming from the poolside terrace. I followed the sound through the glass doors and found my parents already seated at the outdoor dining table.

“Good day, Dad. Good day, Mom.”

Mom gave me a brief smile. Dad nodded without looking up from his plate.

I took my seat.

Dad was dressed as though he had come for an official meeting rather than a family lunch. He had always been like that. Even on Sundays, he carried himself with the same firm authority that had made him one of the most respected lawyers in Oceania.

Mom was no different. She had built her own reputation as a formidable lawyer, and together they were considered one of the most successful legal couples in the country.

Their names appeared regularly in newspapers whenever they won another high-profile case, and young lawyers spoke about them with the kind of admiration reserved for people who had spent decades at the top of their profession.

Mom turned to Dad almost immediately. “Has Naomi texted you yet?”

“She just did,” Dad answered. “She’ll be here soon.”

He set his phone down and leaned back slightly. “She’s been doing well with the foundation work. I heard the last charity event she organized raised more than they expected, and that new expansion they announced last month… she’s been right in the middle of it.”

I kept my eyes on my water glass and chose not to say anything. It was easier that way. I didn’t want to pry, and I didn’t want to hear the comparison that always seemed to sit just under the surface of these conversations.

A few minutes later Naomi walked through the glass doors, bright and put-together as always.

“Mom, Dad,” she said, leaning down to kiss both their cheeks before taking the seat across from me.

“What took you so long, dear?” Mom asked.

“Traffic was hectic and today’s supposed to be Sunday. Why’s it so busy? I should have left earlier. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. What matters is that you’re here.” Dad waved it off.

We started eating and for some reason , it was silent for a while until Mom turned to me.

“How is Oscar?”

“He’s fine,” I said. “Been busy managing the company.”

“He’s a hardworking man. Being a Devereaux came with high responsibilities and expectations and he’s clearly taking it seriously.” Mom said, impressed.

By Oscar, not me.

“And you? You don’t intend on working?” Dad looked at me over his glass.

I would be lying if I say that I didn't expect that question.

“I’m focusing on my marriage for now.” I answered. That was simply the truth and the only reasonable answer to give.

Dad frowned slightly at my response. “You were one of the best students in your class. Why do you intend on wasting that degree?”

I felt the familiar tightness in my chest.

“I intended to start working, but maybe this isn’t the right time.”

Inside, I told myself the same thing I always did. One day I would work at Devereaux Vines. It was the top-selling wine company in Oceania, but right now wasn’t the time. Oscar had to give the green light first. Until then, I would wait.

“Don’t pressure her if she doesn't want to work, Dad. She's married to a wealthy man and it's not like she has any reason to work herself to the bone.” Naomi said, looking straight at me.

What is she trying to do this time?

“Besides, being a little submissive housewife really suits her, don't you think?” She slowly took a bite of her food and smirked at me.

Ouch. That hurt more than I wanted to admit.

I had spent my whole life watching this exact thing happen. Naomi was more socially confident, more admired, more of everything they seemed to want.

I didn’t hate her for it. If anything, I had spent years making sure she was happy, stepping back so she could step forward, watching her become the best version of herself while all my focus was on being perfect for Oscar.

But sitting here again, listening to them light up for her while my own answers got the polite version of interest, still stung me in the chest.

I set my fork down carefully.

“Excuse me. I need to use the restroom.” I stood and walked inside before anyone could interrupt me.

The bathroom door closed behind me and I leaned against it for a second, staring at my reflection. My face looked calm enough and that was the problem.

I had gotten too good at looking fine while everything underneath felt uneven. Naomi had always been the one they compared me to and they didn't even have to say it for me to know they do.

She's the one who always made them proud and lived up to their expectations. I told myself that it didn’t matter. I told myself I was happy for her.

I turned on the tap and let the cold water run over my hands, giving myself another minute before I had to go back out there and smile again.

I opened the door and Naomi was standing right there. I jumped.

“Jesus, you scared me.”

“You were taking forever in there so I came to check on you.” She said,

I tried to walk past but she didn’t move out of the way.

“How’s Oscar treating you these days?” She suddenly asked.

“We’re fine, Naomi. He’s busy with work these days because the company demands his full attention, but we’re good.” I said it fast because I already knew where this was going.

Naomi rolled her eyes. She did that every single time she asked about my marriage. It was like she kept waiting for me to say something was wrong and every time I told her we were fine, she looked disappointed.

“Hope you’re not mad that Mom and Dad still acknowledge me more than you. I mean can you really blame them? They spent all that money and time giving us the best education so of course they’re going to favor the one who actually does something with it.” She said,

There she said it out loud. She wasn’t even trying to hide that our parents treated us differently and the messed up part was she was right. I couldn’t even argue with her.

“I’m not bothered. It’s fine.” I said.

Naomi frowned like she didn’t believe me.

Don’t let her get to you. She’s just trying to push your buttons. Don’t give her what she wants.

“Doesn’t matter if you care or not, Agatha.” She took a step closer to me. “And just so you know, I really wish we weren’t identical twins sometimes. Don’t think being married to Oscar Devereaux gives you any advantage. You're nothing next to him, and without him you’re still nothing.” She said,

She looked me up and down.

“Fix yourself properly sister and come join us back at the table, dear sister.”

Then she walked off.

I stood there in the hallway with my hands in fists and my eyes burning with rage. I swallowed hard and forced everything down because I was not about to let her get to me today.