"Sienna, baby—" James's voice trembles as he reaches for his pants.
"Don't." My vision swims with tears I refuse to shed. "You don't get to call me that ever again. You don't get to look at me." I step closer, getting in his face. "You don't get to breathe the same fucking air as me."
Aubrey reaches out to me. "Sis, please?—"
I turn on her so fast she falls back. "Shut up! I'm not your sister, not anymore. You lost that right when you spread your legs for my fiancé." I gulp, swallowing back the fury and anguish threatening to choke me. "How long? How many times did you fuck him in our bed? In my sheets?"
James tries to interject, his hands raised in a placating gesture—the pathetic little piece of shit. “It just happened?—”
"Bullshit!" My body reacts with the force of my shout, and I throw my hand back hitting the dresser with such force that the picture frames, seashells, and mementos of our life together, crash onto the floor. "You planned this. You looked me in the eye this morning and kissed me goodbye. You told me you were at work, that you loved me not even thirty minutes ago!"
Aubrey starts to cry, big loud sobs, sending mascara running down her cheeks.
"No! No." I say, shaking my finger at her then pointing my thumb at myself. "I'm not going to let you try to play the victim here. I'm not mom and dad. For once, you're going to take responsibility for your actions." I throw my hands up in the air, palms facing her. "You wanted to act like a spoiled brat? Take whatever you want? Well, there you go. You wanted James? You can have him. But you've lost me." I step back away from her, away from us, away from everything we used to be.
"No!" Aubrey wails, shifting onto her knees. "Please no, Sienna! Please! I-I'm pregnant."
I open my mouth and close it multiple times, but the words won't come out.
James moves to her side, clasping her hands in his own. "She's eight weeks pregnant, Si. We were going to tell you after?—"
"After what? The rehearsal dinner?" I shout. "After I spent my life savings on a dress to marry the man who knocked up my sister?"
James reaches for me. "Sienna, I know you're angry, but please?—"
I recoil. "Get. Out. Take your whore and get the fuck out of my house!"
Aubrey whimpers, then something flickers in her eyes. She crawls to the end of my bed, crossing the distance between us, then drops to her knees on the floor and clasps my hands. "Please, please. I'm so sorry. I'm so so so sorry. Please, just give me a chance to fix this. I know we can fix this. I know we can be a family, just like we were before."
Family? I snatch my hands back, and she jumps. I look at her, truly look at her, as if I'm seeing her for the first time. And the realization cuts me even more.
"You don't want to fix this for me. You just don't want me to tell mom and dad."
Her shoulders shake harder as she curls in on herself. "Si?—"
I snicker. "Oh, I'm going to tell them. I'm going to tell them just how much their beloved, golden child, who has no job, no degree, no prospects of ever amounting to anything in her life, is now pregnant, with her sister's ex-fiancé's child."
I bend forward until I'm right in front of her face. My eyes narrow as I stare into her green eyes, nearly identical to my own.
"Let me be very clear. I hope they kick you out. I hope you have nowhere to go. I hope you suffer. If I find out you’re rotting in a ditch tomorrow? I won’t care. I no longer care about you at all. You're dead to me and I hope you burn in hell. And if you don't leave here in the next five minutes, I'll put you there myself."
James and Aubrey scramble to dress, tripping over each other in their haste.
I don't move. Don't blink.
Aubrey pauses at the door, turning around to look at me as if she's about to beg me for another chance, but when I meet her eyes, my expression is blank.
She's no longer my flesh and blood, the sister I looked out for, watched over, protected and stood by, even raised like a daughter. The pedestal I put her on? Demolished. And now? She's nothing to me.
James drags her out of the bedroom.
The front door slams shut, and the seething rage boiling in my blood erupts.
I fly forward, ripping off the sheets and blankets, shredding the pages of James's books and hurling them against the wall, throwing lamps, jewelry, everything and anything I can get my hands on. But it's no use.
Nothing soothes the ache. Nothing makes the pain go away and finally, I sink to the floor and cry.
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