CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Abby

I wake to the insistent buzzing of my phone. Groaning, I fumble to silence it. Okay, 8:00 a.m. on a Saturday isn’t that early, but this is my sleep-in morning. Everyone who would contact me knows that. Besides, I usually get texts. The only person who calls me is…

As I groan again, I squint at the screen. Yes, Mom is calling me. I haven’t heard from her since Christmas, but it could be an emergency, and bitter-tasting guilt coats my mouth. Reluctantly, I answer.

“Hello?” I croak, my voice still thick with sleep.

“Abby. You’re awake. Listen, we need you to come to the east side right away. Rachel is trying on wedding dresses, and we want your opinion.”

I sit up, suddenly wide awake. “What? It’s barely eight. Can’t this wait until later?”

“No, we have an appointment at La Belle Bridal at nine. You need to be here. It’s important to your sister.”

I should say no. My gut agrees, but then I remember Sarah’s apology. Maybe Mom and Rachel want to apologize to me in person. Why else would they invite me, right? And I’d love it if we could be more like John’s family. “Fine. I’ll be there.”

As I hang up, my throat tightens, and the bitterness hasn’t gone away. If my family wants to apologize, why do it at a bridal salon? Then again, Rachel’s needs come first, as always. But I can’t imagine her wanting my opinion on her wedding gown, so they must want to make amends.

I drag myself out of bed, feed Powerfluff, and shower.

Two minutes to nine, I step into La Belle Bridal. Everything is pink except for the white and ivory dresses, though I glimpse a couple of blush-colored gowns. Mom and Rachel are near the back of the store, surrounded by a mountain of white tulle, satin, and a smiling salesperson.

“You made it finally,” Mom says, not seeming to notice I arrived a couple minutes early. “Isn’t that dress stunning on your sister?”

Rachel twirls in front of the mirror, beaming. The dress has appliques, poofy sleeves, and a flowing train. It’s a lot of dress. The kind of dress royalty might wear at a wedding held in Westminster Cathedral or wherever they get married these days.

“It’s nice,” I say.

Rachel’s face falls. “You hate it?”

“No, it’s lovely,” I backpedal. “But will it fit the vibe of the venue?”

Mom shoots me a disapproving look. “Rachel deserves to feel like a princess on her big day. That dress will work anywhere.”

I bite my tongue, and tension builds at my temples. Their apology had better be worth it.

As Rachel returns to the dressing room, I wander through the racks of dresses. The beautiful fabrics and sparkling embellishments fuel a daydream about my wedding to John. He would look so handsome in a tuxedo.

“Earth to Abby!” Rachel snaps me out of my fantasy. “What are you doing?”

I turn to see her eyeing me suspiciously. The mermaid style she’s wearing looks better on her than the other dress. “Just looking.”

She smirks. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking about getting married. To who? That John guy?”

“Yes,” I say defensively.

Rachel’s harsh laugh grates on my nerves. “Oh, come on. Someone like John Barrington would never marry you. He’s way out of your league.”

Ouch. But I don’t need her approval, even if some part of me still wants it for an unknown reason. “You know nothing about my relationship with him.”

“Please,” Rachel scoffs. “He’s just using you for some reason. No way is he serious about you.”

Something inside me snaps. “Let’s make a bet about who’ll be married first.”

Rachel’s eyes widen, then narrow dangerously. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Satisfaction rushes through me. “Try me.”

“Mom!” Rachel shrieks, turning to Mom. “You can’t let her do that. Tell her she can’t get married before me. She can’t.”

Mom steps between us, holding her hands up placatingly. “Now, girls, calm down. Rachel, honey, you’re the oldest. Of course you’ll get married first. Abby’s joking around.”

Her words are like a slap to my face and break me completely. Years of being second-best, of having my feelings and desires dismissed, rush to the surface. Nothing has changed. Nothing will ever change. They only want me here so Rachel can rub her upcoming wedding in my face. Neither of them will apologize to me.

“I’m not joking.” My voice is tight. “I’m done with this. All of it.”

The lines on Mom’s face deepen. “Stop being so dramatic. People are watching.”

I don’t care if someone is filming me. I need to say this—now. “I’m not being dramatic. I’m just tired of Rachel being your golden child. You always take her side, even when my boyfriend cheated on me with her. My feelings have never mattered to anyone in this family except Grandpa. That’s why I’m finished pretending that treatment is okay.”

“You can’t be serious. We’ve treated you the same as your sister,” Mom says.

Seriously? I almost hope someone is taping us. “Name one time you’ve put my needs before Rachel’s. One time you’ve stood up for me instead of her. One time you spent more than ten dollars on one of my birthday or Christmas gifts.”

Deafening silence follows. Rachel stares at the ground. Mom’s mouth opens and closes. The dress consultant slowly backs away.

“That’s what I thought.” I keep my head up. “Until you both can treat me as an equal member of this family, I’m going no contact.”

“What does no contact mean?” Mom’s voice trembles, and I don’t care. She’s facing the consequences of her own actions.

“It means I need some space. Time to focus on myself and my own happiness for once, so please don’t contact me.” A weight lifts off my shoulders. “I love you both, but it’s time to put myself first and set some boundaries.”

Rachel snorts. “Oh, please. You’ll crawl back in a week when you realize how pathetic your life is without us.”

I shake my head. “You’re wrong. John’s family treats me better than any of you, except for Grandpa. They’ve shown me what being valued and respected feels like. I deserve that and won’t settle for less any longer.”

As I leave the bridal shop, they call my name. I ignore them, and though my heart aches, I also feel good about what I said.

The drive back to my apartment is a blur. My mind replays the confrontation. It should have happened on Christmas Day when I left, but I don’t know if I was ready to go no contact then. Today, I am.

As I park, I notice John’s car. A smile tugs at my lips despite everything that just happened.

When I get to my apartment, he’s standing by the door. “I texted and got worried when you didn’t reply. Are you okay?”

I’m about to nod but shrug instead. “Can I have a hug?”

“Always.”

As he wraps his arms around me, I press myself against his chest. He smells so good and familiar like home, and that comforts me. So does the beating of his heart—so steady. I glance up at him. “I stood up to my mom and Rachel and told them I’m going no contact.”

“That’s big. How do you feel?”

“Free but sad at the same time.”

I unlock the door, and John leads me inside, closing the door behind us. We settle on the couch, and I spill the whole story—the impromptu bridal appointment, thinking they wanted to apologize to me, Rachel’s cruel words, and my decision to go no contact.

John listens attentively until I finish. “I’m proud of you, Abby. That couldn’t have been easy.”

I lean into him. “It wasn’t. But it felt right. Still feels right. Like I’m finally being true to myself.”

“What do you need from me?”

I stare at him and my pulse skitters. “You being here is all I need.”

A small smile plays on his lips. “Good. Now I have something to ask you.”

“What?”

He slides off the couch and drops onto one knee.

My breath catches in my throat. He isn’t going to…

“Abby.” Emotion fills his voice, and I have to force myself to breathe. “From the first time I saw you at work, I fell hard. When I pretended to be your boyfriend at Christmastime, I knew there was something special between us. Our fake relationship quickly became the most real thing in my life. I love you and want you in my life forever.”

Through my tears, I see him remove a small velvet box from his pocket, and my heart beats in triple time. I can’t believe this is really happening, but then he opens the lid to reveal a stunning diamond ring, simple yet elegant. I love it.

“I had an elaborate proposal planned.” John half laughs. “But then I realized this is where our story started. I wasn’t here the night the power went out, but that was the catalyst to everything happening on Christmas Eve when I called you into my office and later found you stranded in the parking lot.”

He takes a deep breath, and his gaze locks on mine. “Abigail Sinclair, I love you so much. Will you marry me?”

Laughter bubbles up through my tears. I drop to my knees and throw my arms around his neck. “Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. I love you. I want to marry you.”

Powerfluff meows.

“Just a minute,” John says to her, “I have something for you, too. But I need to finish with your mommy first.”

He slides the ring onto my finger—a perfect fit. As I hold my hand out to admire the ring, Powerfluff meows.

John shakes his head. “We’re almost finished.”

He kisses me, a kiss full of love and promises of our future together. Powerfluff rubs against our legs, meowing for attention.

After we draw apart, John reaches into his pocket again and pulls out a pink velvet collar with a small diamond charm dangling. “You two are a package deal. I wouldn’t leave Powerfluff out of our proposal.”

As John attempts to fasten the collar around our less-than-cooperative cat, I giggle. “You’re ridiculous. And I love you for it.”

“Should we start planning the wedding right away?” he asks. “There might be a sudden opening at a local bridal store today.”

I swat his arm playfully. “Honestly, I don’t care if I beat Rachel to the altar. I made that bet in the heat of the moment. What I’d really love is…”

“Whatever you want, my love, as long as I get to call you my wife at the end of it.”

An idea takes shape, and I know it’ll be perfect. “I want to get married on Christmas Eve.”

“That’ll be perfect,” he agrees. “Grandma will be so happy to have something else to do besides tell everyone it’s not Christmas yet.”

That could be a problem. “Will she mind if I want everything decorated for the holiday?”

“In our case, she won’t mind at all.”

“Wonderful, because I’m imagining a winter wonderland complete with a big Christmas tree and lots of lights.”

Powerfluff must tire of her spin as a model, because she plops onto my lap, and I pet her. “You have a daddy now.”

She doesn’t even flick her tail.

John shakes his head. “She’ll have to get used to the idea.”

My cat isn’t the only one. So much has changed in my life in only a couple weeks. I went from thinking my boss hated me, to pretending to date, to actually going out for real. Now, I’m engaged to a thoughtful man who loves and respects me. I’ve also stood up for myself against years of family dysfunction. And I’m on the brink of a whole new chapter in my professional life. We both are.

I keep wanting to repeat I love you , but I want to say something else. “Our relationship began with a lie so I could save face in front of my family, but being with you has blossomed into the most beautiful truth I’ve ever known. Thank you, Mr. Barrington.”

His smile widened. “Anything for you, Ms. Sinclair.”

I know that, because I’d do anything for him.