Eliza Completely shocked, I stared at Eugenie and she stared back at me with a kind of knowing look in her eyes that set me on edge. “What are you doing here?” She smiled, but it wasn’t warm or happy. Strangely, it seemed calculating. Ordinarily, that wouldn’t seem strange at all. Eugenie was always up to something, working some kind of angle to advance whatever goal she had in mind, but it had been so long since I’d last seen her that I couldn’t figure out what possible angle she could already have. “I came to see you, silly.” She arched an eyebrow when I didn’t st ep aside to let her in. “Well, are you going to leave me on the doorst ep all day?” I eyed her for a long moment, blinking hard as I tried to the process the fact that she was here. “No, of course not. I apologize. You’ve just caught me off guard.” I finally moved out of the way and she breezed past me in a cloud of perfume and judgment. My big sister, as always, was dressed in only the finest designer clothing, a white linen suit with a striking pink blouse underneath, her nose slightly elevated as her gaze sw ept across the interior of the townhouse. “This is where you’ve been living?” she said incredulously, almost like she couldn’t quite fathom it. “It’s rather dull, isn’t it?” I closed the door behind her, resisting the urge to check for cameras outside. Either we were on one of those reality TV programs and I was being pranked, or this was some elaborate mistake. “Compared to our house in London, I mean,” she said lightly, as though that softened her harsh opinion. “Perhaps you should speak to him about redecorating.” I sighed. “It’s Will’s house, Eugenie. Not Jesse’s. I’m not redecorating anything here.” “Oh.” She looked around again, something in her gaze sharpening. “I suppose that makes more sense. Will always has been rather dull himself. It’s only fitting that his home would reflect that.” “What are you doing here?” I r epeated, a little more impatiently this time. Her lips pressed into a delicate pout, her lashes batting as if that might make me feel bad about asking. “Is that any way to greet your sister?”
“When she arrives unannounced in another country, it feels appropriate,” I said. “Honestly, Genie. You could’ve texted me.” She laughed, apparently unbothered by her less than warm welcome now that she’d given up the act. “I’ve missed that about you, how you think everything in life has to be planned.” “I doubt that.” She hummed, st epping further into the house and letting her fingers brush over the console table as she passed, silently judging even the furniture. “It’s not every day that my little sister marries my ex-boyfriend.” Ice trickled through me. So that’s why she’s here. I knew the radio silence wouldn’t last forever. She said it casually, but there was poison lacing her tone and it set me right back on that edge I’d been on when I’d first seen her standing at our door. “I didn’t realize you cared. I’ve barely heard from you since the engagement.” “Oh, I care, but that’s not why I’m here.” She turned to face me, her expression bright again. “Mother sent me.” Well, that explains everything and nothing all at once. My eyes narrowed of their own accord, confusion and suspicion awakening in me. “Why?” “She thought that you might need a little help. Weddings take a lot of planning after all.” Eugenie strolled further into the house like she was giving herself a tour, her perfectly straightened blonde hair shining under the downlights. “You’re so famously bad at prioritizing details when it comes to your appearance.” Gosh, I’ve forgotten how much it stings, just speaking to her. “I’ve managed so far.” She glanced back at me, one eyebrow lifting like she seriously doubted that could be true. “The clock is ticking, Eliza. Have you even thought about your dress yet?” I pressed my lips together. “Well, I’ve thought about it.” “And that, sister dear, is exactly why Mom sent me,” she said. “We’ve got an appointment at a bridal boutique in an hour.” “That was quick.” Besides, why would anyone ask me what I wanted when decisions can simply be made for me? “Time is a luxury you don’t have,” she r eplied like she was doing me a favor. “Every designer hates a rushed bride and they’re already going to be under pressure, getting it done so soon.”
I let out a slow breath, already feeling the beginnings of a headache forming. I should’ve known they would pull something like this. My mother and Eugenie were cut from the same cloth, closer to one another than I’d ever been to either of them. Even as children, when Genie and I had been so much closer than we were now, she’d been our mother’s clear number one. She had never done anything wrong in Mom’s eyes. “Why isn’t she here herself if she’s so worried about what I’ll wear?” I asked, wondering if I should be hurt that apparently even my wedding could be outsourced to somebody else to help with. “Surely, she could’ve come with you.” Eugenie waved me off. “Don’t be so selfish. Mother is busy. As am I, but I made the time.” I let out a slow, quiet breath but nodded. Sadly, I wasn’t the least bit surprised that Mom was too busy to be here with me in the run-up to my wedding day. “I’ll go get ready.” Arguing with Eugenie was like trying to reason with a particularly elegant brick wall. There was no way I was getting out of this. My best option was getting through it as fast as I could. “Try not to take too long, but do make yourself presentable.” She drifted into the kitchen, still looking over every inch of the place like she was mentally redesigning. I was halfway to my bedroom when my phone rang. Reaching into my pocket, I felt tears spring to my eyes when I saw it was Jesse. I smiled, seriously not sure how he’d known that I needed him right now, but he seemed to have a real knack for it. “Hi, Jesse,” I said, trying to ke ep my voice level, but it wobbled a bit anyway. “Hey you. What’s going on?” I glanced down the staircase, where Eugenie was now inspecting something on a bookshelf. “It seems I have a guest.” “Who is it?” he asked urgently, almost like he thought I might be in danger. “It’s alright. It’s just my sister.” “Which one?” “Eugenie,” I said. “Apparently, she’s come on orders from our mother to help me find a wedding dress.” “That’s unexpected,” he said carefully, but his voice was tighter now. In fact, he sounded almost worried again. “Has she, uh, has she said anything about, uh, about us? Me? You?” “No.” I frowned. “Well, she did mention that it’s not every day that your sister marries your ex-boyfriend, but she didn’t seem too put out by it.”
“Okay. That’s good.” “I’ll call you later,” I said. “I’d better go get ready before she decides to redecorate the house entirely before our appointment at the boutique.” There was a quiet exhale on the other end. “Yeah. Call me.” Something about the way he said it made me pause on the landing, that familiar doubt cre eping into my gut. Before I could question it, he hung up and I sighed, seriously starting to question my own sanity. I’d never been paranoid or suspicious, but it was like every second thought I had these days was about how odd something was. In any event, even if I was losing my mind, I went to get ready for the boutique, knowing that Eugenie wasn’t exactly somebody I could talk to about this and she wouldn’t have patience with me if I held us up. Precisely an hour later, we walked into a bridal shop with polished white floors, soft lighting, and racks of impossibly beautiful dresses lining the walls. Eugenie strode in ahead of me, like she was the one getting married. “This is perfect,” she declared loudly as I followed her in. It looked like that was my only role today, going along for the ride. When it came to my family, this was a role I was exceedingly familiar with, but I was hoping she would at least take my opinions into consideration today. “This is lovely,” I said, reaching for the first dress that caught my eye. It was simple, elegant, and understated. “What do you think?” Eugenie glanced at it for no more than a second before she scoffed. “No.” I sighed. “Are you sure? It’s stunning.” She was already scanning the next rack, her back to me as she shook her head. “It’s not. It’s boring.” “I like boring.” “Yes, well,” she said, pulling out a dress that was significantly more elaborate. “This isn’t about what you like, is it?” “Are you sure? It is my wedding, after all. I feel like what I like should at least matter a little bit.” “What do you think of this one?” She held the dress out toward me, the sequins shimmering under the lights and feathers sticking out of the bodice. “This is the kind of look you should be going for.” “I don’t know,” I mused out loud, not wanting to be rude since a sales assistant was standing within earshot. “I’m not sure that’s quite me. It’s rather a lot, isn’t it?” “It’s a wedding dress,” she said. “It’s meant to be a lot.” “I suppose.” She handed it off to the assistant without waiting for my agreement, then finally looked at me again. “Besides,
Jesse will expect something more impactful. He is a Westwood, after all. Their name comes with certain expectations and responsibilities.” I frowned. “Do you really think he’d expect me to wear something specific, though?” “Of course,” she said. “He always has liked things that make a statement.” That doesn’t sound right. “He doesn’t seem particularly concerned with statements to me.” Eugenie paused for just for a second before smiling a smile that didn’t reach her eyes at all. There was a strange twinkle in them, though. “Well, that’s new. Although I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. That man has never been consistent. With him, things change all the time. It’s part of his allure.” Something in my chest tightened. The Jesse I knew wasn’t wishy-washy or inconsistent. “He’s different now,” I said finally. “Perhaps he’s grown out of all that.” “People don’t change that much,” she r eplied almost absently as she started flipping through another rack. “At our core, we remain the same, don’t we? Even if the little things do change.” My unease grew de eper, but she wasn’t even done yet. “Take Jesse, for example. That sarcastic sense of humor and how he always seems to be on the go. That won’t change. He doesn’t know what it means to relax or slow down. Ke eping up with him was exhausting at times. His energy is simply boundless. The same with his inconsistency. That will remain, ironically, consistent.” Aaaaand, it’s official. The version of Jesse she seemed to know didn’t match the man I was getting to know at all. I pulled out another dress I thought was rather pretty. Not perfect but not bad either. “I haven’t found him to be exhausting. Perhaps my energy simply matches his.” Eugenie arched an eyebrow at the dress again. “No. Be serious, Eliza. We don’t have time for that nonsense.” “It’s a dress. I thought that was what we came here for.” “Yes, but we came for a suitable dress, not...” She flicked a finger at the dress in my hand like it was unworthy of even the name. “Whatever that is.” “Are you going to ke ep bulldozing my choices?” I asked. “I am getting married for the sake of the family, after all. You’d think I’d get to choose the garment I do it in.” She didn’t even look up from the rack she was rifling through. “You always did have a flair for self-sacrifice.”
“That’s not what I—” The corners of her eyes tightened. “You do realize you’re making yourself sound like some kind of martyr, don’t you? It’s very noble. Very tragic. Very you, actually.” Once again, there was an ugly edge laced into her tone. I lifted my chin a little higher. “I’m not being a martyr, Eugenie. This is simply practical.” “Of course,” she said, entirely unconvinced. “If that’s what you need to call it, then feel free.” I exhaled slowly but decided not to engage any further. She and I were never going to see eye-to-eye on this, so instead, I turned back to the dresses, and moments later, I found the one. I knew it by the way my heart soared and my lips parted. I even sucked in an in voluntary breath. It wasn’t the most extravagant one in the shop and it certainly wouldn’t demand attention from across the room, but there was something about its clean lines, soft structure, and whimsical lace detailing that made it feel special. I reached for it before Eugenie could tell me not to. “This one.” She glanced over and rolled her eyes. “No, that’s not it. That one is pretty, but it’s not right.” “It feels right.” She pulled out another dress instead and handed it to the assistant. “This one is right.” I eyed the layers of lace, the volume that defied physics, and shook my head. “That dress could house a small family. It’s an event in itself.” “It’s called presence, Eliza.” “It’s called being unable to sit down.” She ignored me. “Just try it on. It’ll be breathtaking.” Finally, after a few more seconds of just standing there, I nodded. “Alright. I’ll try it on.” We moved through the shop together, with her vetoing just about everything I showed her, but once I was standing in front of the mirror, I had to admit that the physics-defying dress was impressive. In the way that a chandelier is impressive, or a particularly elaborate cake. It swallowed me whole, though. I didn’t have the appropriate amount of presence for a dress that had so much of its own. “Now that’s a bride,” Eugenie said from behind me, sounding satisfied. “I don’t even think we need to ke ep trying. We’ve already found it.” I inhaled a de ep breath. “You don’t think it makes me look like I’ve been upholstered?”
She let out a cool, almost uncaring laugh. “Don’t be dramatic, Eliza. Honestly, if it was supposed to be just another dress, it wouldn’t have been called a wedding dress.” “I’m serious. I can’t even see my own arms. There are too many layers and details. Too many things going on.” “That’s because you’re not meant to be fidgeting. You’re meant to be making an entrance.” I turned to face her slightly, careful not to knock anything over in the process. “I really liked the other one.” “Yes, well, this wedding isn’t about what you like, is it?” she said smoothly, st epping closer and adjusting something at my shoulder without asking or warning me. “You said it yourself. You’re doing this for the good of the family, ours and his, and what we need is to make a statement.” “A statement?” She suddenly met my gaze in the mirror, intensity blazing in her eyes. “We need people to know that the Rodericks are back, stronger than ever, and that we stand united with the Westwoods.” I wanted to argue, but for some reason, I couldn’t find the right words. “Of course.” We went through a few more options, but by the time we left the shop, I felt like I’d run a marathon I hadn’t trained for. In heels. Through emotional quicksand. The drive back was quiet, which I actually appreciated, but somehow, it felt more ominous than the conversation at that shop. When we pulled up outside Jesse’s house, I let out a small breath of relief, glad to be back at the closest thing I had to home in this country. “Thank you for the help,” I said, unbuckling my seatbelt. Then it dawned on me that I might not be able to simply rush inside and make myself a cup of tea. My hand was already on the door handle when I turned back to her. “Are you staying here, with us?” Her eyebrows sw ept up, but when she realized it was a serious question, she burst out laughing. As if I’d suggested something truly outrageous. “No, Eliza. I wouldn’t be caught dead staying in a townhouse like this.” I looked at the house, a gorgeous historic brownstone, then looked back at her. “No, of course not.” “Honestly, it reminds me far too much of the castle,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “All that history. All the weight.” That was not a comparison I ever thought I’d hear, but I nodded anyway, relieved to be off the proverbial hook. “Alright. Well, there’s more than enough room if you change your
mind.” “I won’t. I have somewhere else to be, and after that, I’ve already got a hotel suite with my name on it.” “You’ve got somewhere else to be? I thought you came here because Mom sent you to help with the wedding dress.” She smiled again, that same knowing expression settling into place on her features. “She did, but I’ve also got some business to attend to here in Chicago. We thought it would be two birds with one stone.” Right. Business. Eugenie. That didn’t sound quite right either, but I finally said goodbye and headed into the house, not even glancing back when I heard the tires squealing as she raced away. That same uneasy feeling from earlier cr ept back in, but it was more insistent this time. Eugenie didn’t do anything without a reason and I sincerely doubted that the real reason for her visit was to help me. I just had no idea what else it could be.