I couldn't hate her

I couldn't hate her
Ashlyn

But then, a faint sound snapped me out of my deep thoughts.

A rustle coming from outside. I lifted my gaze.

I didn’t move. Instead, I stood up slowly, gathering all the courage I could, and took a deep breath.

The door creaked open.

Silence.

No words.

But her presence chilled the entire room.

Ashley stood at the doorway, dressed in a black blouse and dark jeans. Her hair was tangled and unkempt, as if sleep had completely abandoned her. For several seconds, she simply stared at me. No greeting. No emotion on her face.

Every nerve in my body seemed to freeze. We looked exactly the same. But her eyes, sharp, cold, and brimming with disdain, felt like blades cutting through me.

“You’re early,” she said, her voice laced with venom, her eyes scanning me from head to toe. "Scared that I plotted something against you?"

I ignore her provocation. “I just wanted to revisit our memories... before we talked,” I replied, struggling to keep my voice steady, though my palms were cold and clammy.

She slowly stepped inside and sat on the old sofa, completely ignoring the dust and wear, as if she still owned everything in this place.

I watched her in heavy silence.

Until she broke it with a voice full of weight and pain.

“Did you know,” she began, her tone bitter and cracked with resentment, “that I should’ve been the one living your life? I should’ve been the one to be loved... to be chosen."

"I don't know what you are talking about," I replied, making her chuckle before she continued.

"But it was always you. Always you who people saw. You were always the one who led the way. I was just your shadow.”

I turned to her, confused and shaken. “Ashley, what are you talking about?” I asked again. I don't know where she got those ideas.

She smirked, but it wasn’t happiness I saw; it was anguish. Madness. Obsession.

“Don’t pretend to be the innocent one, Ashlyn,” she spat. “You know I’ve wanted to take what I thought should’ve been mine all along. You knew. None of this was an accident. I planned everything!”

A shiver crawled up my spine. She looks different. Far from Ashley I know.

“What... what do you mean?” I asked, even though Marco had warned me, told me there was a chance she had done something terrible. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to believe it. Not until I heard it from her lips.

She stood and began walking toward me. Every step was deliberate. Furious.

“When everyone thought you had lost your memory... I pretended to be you. I wasn’t confused. I didn’t forget anything, Ashlyn. It was all a lie. A show. So that finally, I could get what I wanted, Marco.”

I froze. Swallowed hard.

“Ashley...”

“Marco, who only ever looked at you. Who didn’t even know I existed until you were gone. So I created the accident. Yes, that accident. I gave myself the chance to be you. To feel what it’s like to be loved as you. I thought if you're gone, you'll die as Ashley. But even God favors you and gives you a second chance to live."

The pain that surged through me was beyond measure. She was my twin. I thought we loved each other. I thought we were everything to each other.

“You didn’t do this because you love Marco,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “You did this because you are selfish, making you hate me even though I've done nothing wrong to you."

“You’re right,” she hissed. “I hate you! Because no matter what I did, people always loved you more. Even at home, Mom and Dad always looked at you with pride. You were always the special one. And me? I was always lacking. The spare. The copy!”

My jaw clenched with the force of the emotions threatening to spill. “Ashley... we’re sisters. Twins. We’re family. How could you choose to hurt me like this?”

“Because I’m done begging for scraps. I’m done waiting for what’s left over. For once, I wanted to be you. To hurt you the way you’ve unknowingly hurt me my whole life.”

She stepped closer, now only inches away. I could feel her breath, hot and filled with rage.

“But do you know what hurts more than anything, Ashlyn?” Her voice dropped to a broken whisper. “Even after everything... even when I became you... I still couldn’t be you. Because Marco could never love me the way he loves you.”

Tears streamed down my face.

Not from anger. But from heartbreak. From the collapse of everything I thought was real.

“I became Ashlyn. I was his wife. But even then, he chose Ashley. You. The real you. Over and over again. He touched me, thinking I was you, but his heart was never mine. I had to lie just to be kissed.”

“Ashley...” I murmured, my voice nearly inaudible.

“There is no more Ashley, Ashlyn,” she declared coldly. “The world sees me as you now. And no matter what you do... You can’t take that back.”

But at that moment, I couldn’t hate her. Not anymore.

Because beneath all her cruelty, I saw the broken girl she’d been. Desperate to be seen. To be loved. To be enough.

“You never needed to be me for someone to love you,” I said softly. “Mom and Dad love you. I love you.”

“Liar!” she screamed. “I was the first one who saw Marco. You stole him from me! You seduced him just to prove you were better than me!”

Her voice was wild with rage as she recounted the first time she saw Marco.

“If that’s true,” I said, my voice shaking, “then you should know Marco and I already knew each other long before that. I just never brought him home because I thought... he’d be like the others. Handsome. Rich. Too good to be true.”

“Oh, please! Go ahead! Rub it all in my face!” she shouted, her voice echoing through the house.

I flinched. Her anger was too much, too deep. I wanted to fix this. I wanted to make things right.

But it felt like her heart was already closed off to any truth I could give.