Page 55 of Claimed By The Other Brother

They hug me from both sides, and I let myself sink into their warmth. These women. I don't know what I'd do without them.

"Alright," Sarah says, pulling back.

"Let's unpack and then hit the city. We've got sightseeing to do."

***

We spend the afternoon exploring. First stop isCentral Park, walking the paths, watching street performers, sitting on a bench near the lake. The October air is crisp, leaves starting to turn orange and red.

Jane insists on taking a million photos. Sarah buys us hot dogs from a vendor. I try to be present, to enjoy the moment instead of getting lost in my head.

From Central Park, we head downtown to SoHo. The streets are crowded with people, the boutiques and galleries packed. We wander in and out of shops, Sarah trying on ridiculous hats, Jane browsing art prints she'll never buy.

I find myself relaxing. Laughing at Sarah's commentary on overpriced vintage jeans. Stopping to admire street art on a brick wall.

We grab coffee in the West Village, sitting outside at a tiny café, watching the city move around us.

"How are you doing?" Jane asks quietly while Sarah is inside ordering another round.

"I'm okay," I tell her. And I mean it.

"This was a good idea. Thank you."

"You're going to get through this," Jane says.

"I know it doesn't feel like it right now, but you will."

I want to believe her.

By evening, we're exhausted and starving. We find a small Italian place and eat pasta and drink wine and laugh more than I have in days. When we finally make it back to the hotel, the sun is setting, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange.

"We're going out tonight," Sarah announces as we enter our suite.

"There's a lounge downtown that's supposed to be amazing. Get ready to look hot."

I groan. "I'm exhausted."

"Too bad," Jane says, already pulling clothes out of her suitcase.

"We didn't come to New York to stay in the hotel room. We came to have fun."

I can't argue with that logic.

An hour later, we're scattered around the suite getting ready. Music plays from Sarah's phone, something upbeat and danceable. Jane has commandeered the bathroom mirror for her makeup.

I stand in front of the closet, staring at the clothes Jane and Sarah packed for me. The black dress catches my eye—the one Sarah insisted I bring. Sleeveless, fitted, hitting just above the knee. Sexy without trying too hard.

I slip it on, zipping it up the side. It fits perfectly, hugging my curves in all the right places.

"That's the one," Sarah says, appearing behind me.

"You look incredible."

Jane emerges from the bathroom, makeup flawless.

"Sit. Let me do your hair."

I sit on the edge of the bed while Jane works her magic, curling sections of my blonde hair and tousling it in a loose, effortless style. Sarah handles my makeup—smoky eyes, soft pink lips, just enough to make me feel put together.