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I close my eyes. Brace for impact. In three, two, one…
“… Is not even knowing who the other woman is.”
I don’t know whether to breathe, laugh, cry, scream, run, pray, or just find the nearest hardwood floor and curl up into a little ball again.
The world inside my snow globe makes sense.
The world outside of it is a complete and utter mystery.
34
TAYLOR
The Oval Room turns out to be a lavish lakefront resort, with an invite-only membership that includes heads of state, minor royalty, rock stars, and a border collie who is somehow a YouTube influencer.
Of course, as a Zakharov, Celine sails in without lifting a finger. Doors are held open for her, heads bowed in reverence; the staff wait on her hand and foot.
She introduces me to the coordinators for her upcoming event, a pair of immaculately dressed, stunning blond Swedes whose names I immediately forget. The three of them embark on a dizzying conversation about canapes and seating arrangements that makes my head spin.
I just watch Celine. It’s strange to watch the sister who used to consider pizza rolls a delicacy talk about shrimp ceviche hors d’oeuvres and her preferred vintages of champagne. She throws out sums of money with a shocking number of commas like it’s nothing. Fifty grand for this, three hundred for that.
I want to shake these Swedes and scream in their faces,Who is this woman? What have you done with my sister?
“Sorry, Tay,” Celine says suddenly. “I’ll only be another minute or so.”
“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’ll just go look around.”
I leave them to it and go wandering through the ballroom doors. They open out onto a patio with white iron tables and chairs carved from a dense white stone. The flower arrangements are exquisite.
This is the world Celine has spent half a decade in.
It couldn’t be any more different from mine.
My world has been filled with sleepless nights and colic. With soiled diapers and temper tantrums. With endless tears and constant regrets.
Although I’m starting to wonder if Celine and I didn’t have that last part in common. One thing’s for sure: I’ve seen enough of her life to know that it’s not perfect.
Sometime later, she finds me leaning against the balcony looking over at the lake. “Sorry that took so long,” she says, taking up a position next to me.
“Nothing to apologize for. I liked watching you. You’re impressive.”
Celine laughs. “I’ve had years of practice. Throwing myself into the work has kept me from thinking too much.”
I glance at her, wondering if I’m being selfish by asking the question that’s burning in my head.
Just when I’ve decided not to let sleeping dogs lie, though, Celine calls me out. “Go ahead and ask.”
“Ask what?”
“Don’t play coy, Tay. I can see the question on your face.”
I grimace. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“It takes a lot more than a mere question to upset me these days.”
“Well…fine. I guess I was thinking about what you said in the car. I was just wondering why you assume that Ilarion is in love with someone else?”
She’s quiet for a while, looking out as ducks slice across the mirrored surface of the lake below us.
