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Evan scrambles away, his ears red, while Sasha wipes off the smudged lipstick from the corners of her mouth.
Sasha stands up, concern etched on her face. "What are you doing here, Emily?"
I slam the door behind me and toss my bag on the kitchen counter.
“It’s a busy night. First, I find my husband making out with a French woman, now I find my brother making out with my best friend, how did you get here so fast, anyway?”
Evan, looking awkward and out of place, gives me a small, sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry, Em. I called Sasha because you weren’t answering mom’s texts, and you were leaving so I got a ticket and thought I’d meet you back at the apartment. When I got there, you were gone, then Sasha said you got married and…wait. Did you just say your husband made out with a French woman?”
Sasha gasps, and her hands fly to her open mouth.
Part of me wonders if the exaggerated reaction is her attempt to move my focus away from the fact she’s been playing tonsil tennis with my brother.
Gross.
“Em. Talk to us,” Sasha says, rising to her feet. “What happened?”
She walks over, opening her arms, and despite being irritated with her, I crumble and sob into her shoulder. “It was Madeline Lonnelle.”
There’s another gasp and Sasha stiffens. She mutters to Evan. “Put on a pot of coffee. It’s going to be a long night.”
Then she walks me to the couch and covers me with a blanket. “Okay, sweetie. Tell us everything.”
As I finish recounting the events of the dinner to Sasha and Evan, the reality of the situation sinks in deeper. "So, William is apparently supposed to marry Madeline. It’s all part of some business deal between their families," I say, the words tasting bitter.
"And to think, just after we... I really thought I was falling for him," I confess, a lump forming in my throat. “Why are the best guys in bed always the biggest jerks?”
Evan, always the protective type, jumps up, his face a mix of anger and determination. "That's it, I'm going over there. I'll give him a piece of my mind."
Sasha quickly grabs his arm, pulling him back down. "No, Evan. That's not going to help. I have a better idea."
A mischievous glint appears in her eyes. "We're going shopping in the morning, Emily. It's time for a revenge makeover. You're going to that charity event, and you're going to show William exactly what he's missing."
I can't help but feel a twinge of excitement at the idea.
A revenge makeover. I like the sound of that.
But then doubt creeps in, and I shake my head. "I can't face everyone there. You should go instead, Sasha."
Sasha looks at me, horror-stricken. "Emily, I know things have gotten really complicated, and it's awkward, but you need to see this through. For my grandmother's sake. She's counting on you."
I sit there, torn between the desire to hide away and the need to face this head-on.
I let out a sigh, feeling the weight of responsibility. "Okay, I'll go to the charity event."
After a moment of silence, I add firmly, "But after tomorrow night, we are never mentioning William Willoughby ever again."
WILLIAM
After a sleepless night, I finally give up trying to block out the world and try to figure out what to do.
One thing is certain: there’s no way I’m breaking things off with Emily.
And after that little stunt, Madeline’s dead to me.
Emily’s phone is either switched off, or she’s blocked my number.
I sincerely hope it’s the former.
