Chapter 64 A Nervous Wreck

Chapter 64 A Nervous Wreck
Confusion sat heavy in my chest the entire time we ate, like something unfinished, something pressing against my ribs from the inside. I smiled when I was supposed to, nodded when it felt appropriate, lifted my fork and chewed even though I barely tasted anything. Everything felt slightly delayed, as though my body was performing a role my mind hadn’t fully caught up with yet.

The clinking of cutlery, the low hum of conversation, Eddie’s occasional laugh—it all blended into a soft background noise while my thoughts stayed fixed on one thing.

Tina.

She sat there like she belonged. Because she did. Her movements were natural, unguarded. Nothing like Nina’s sharp, measured presence. And yet every time I glanced at her face, my stomach twisted, my brain struggling to reconcile memory with reality.

We talked about nothing important. Small, harmless things. The weather. The coffee shop. Perth’s quiet charm. It felt surreal, like playing house in someone else’s life.

Then Tina looked at me, her expression gentle but curious.

“So, Abby,” she said, smiling softly, “what brought you to Perth?”

The question landed heavier than it should have.

I let out a short, awkward laugh, one that didn’t quite sound like it belonged to me. “A small vacation.”

The word vacation felt thin. Hollow. Like a lie wrapped in something socially acceptable.

“Really?” Laila tilted her head, clearly intrigued. “Here in Perth? Where are you from?”

I pushed my food around my plate, buying myself a second. “New York.”

Laila’s eyes widened instantly. “What?” She looked genuinely shocked. “That’s over a thousand miles away.”

My shoulders tensed.

Joseph chuckled, clearly entertained. “Almost sounds like you ran away from your hometown.”

My heart skipped.

“Exactly,” Laila agreed quickly, pointing her fork at me. “But you didn’t run away, did you?” She laughed, clearly joking.

The word run away echoed in my head louder than it should have. My fingers tightened slightly around my fork. I felt exposed, like someone had brushed too close to a wound without knowing it was there.

Eddie chuckled beside me, relaxed and unaware, and that somehow made it worse. Everyone here was so easy. So open.

I swallowed and forced myself to speak. “No, I didn’t,” I stammered lightly. “I’ve always wanted to come to Perth for a vacation.”

It sounded rehearsed. Even to me.

“Oh wow,” Eddie said casually, already moving on as he continued eating.

Then Tina’s voice cut in again, softer this time. “And how are your parents?”

The question drained the air from my lungs.

I lifted my glass and took a small sip of water, letting the coolness steady me while my mind scrambled. Images flashed uninvited—hospital walls, my father’s tired eyes, Nina’s cruel smile. I felt the familiar ache tighten in my chest.

“Uhmm…” I began carefully. “I lost my mom to cancer several years ago.”

The table grew quiet.

“So it’s just me and my dad and…” My voice trailed off on its own.

And her.

Nina.

The woman who had destroyed my life with a smile. The woman sitting in front of me’s identical twin.

My chest tightened. I couldn’t say it. I couldn’t even think it too loudly. This place—this house—wasn’t built to hold my past. I was supposed to be invisible here. New. Clean. Unattached.

I shook the thought away quickly.

“We’re doing fine,” I added, my voice steadier than I felt.

Their faces softened immediately. Sympathy filled the space like a shared breath.

“I’m so sorry,” Laila said quietly.

“That must have been hard,” Joseph added, his tone sincere.

Eddie glanced at me with something gentle in his eyes, and for a moment, guilt prickled under my skin. I hated that they cared so easily, without knowing anything about the mess I carried.

I nodded slightly, offering a small, practiced smile as my gaze drifted back to Tina. She was watching me—not intensely, not suspiciously—but with a kind of quiet understanding that unsettled me more than Nina’s cruelty ever had.

“It’s a long time ago,” I said softly. “I’m fine.”

The words tasted like a lie and a truth all at once.

Because I wasn’t fine.

But for this moment—for this table, this house, this fragile new beginning—I just needed them to believe I was.

Then Eddie’s words settled over the table like a warm blanket.

“Perth is a really cool city for a vacay. I’m glad you came all the way,” he said, smiling like he meant every word. “We promise to make your stay worth it.”

The word promise made something twist painfully in my chest.

I smiled anyway, the kind of smile you give when gratitude is real but pain is louder. I lowered my gaze to my plate, suddenly very interested in the leftover crumbs there. “Thank you,” I murmured. Then, because it felt important that they knew, I looked up and met their eyes one by one. “I really appreciate you all for having me.”

Laila grinned. “You’re officially under our protection now.”

Joseph laughed. “Yeah, consider us at your service.”

Their warmth hit me all at once, and for a brief, dangerous moment, I felt like crying again. Not the quiet kind. The ugly kind that shakes your shoulders and exposes everything you’re trying so hard to bury.

After dinner, I insisted on helping clean up. I didn’t want to sit still. Sitting made my thoughts too loud. Tina didn’t protest—she simply handed me a plate and nodded, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for me to be there.

Eddie announced he was walking Laila home, Joseph disappeared somewhere down the hall, and just like that, the house grew quieter.

Too quiet.

Just me and Tina in the kitchen.

I tried to remind myself—over and over—that this wasn’t Nina. That the air wasn’t charged with threats, that there were no hidden cameras, no veiled ultimatums lurking behind polite smiles. This woman hummed softly as she rinsed plates. She moved gently. Easily.

Still, my shoulders stayed tense.

When Tina’s fingers brushed my hand lightly as she reached for a dish, my thoughts shattered.

I flinched before I could stop myself.

The plate rattled slightly in the sink.

She paused immediately.

“Are you okay?” Tina asked, her voice gentle, concerned, as she took over washing the dishes without comment.

My breath came out uneven, like I’d been holding it for too long. “I’m fine,” I said quickly, too quickly. The words stumbled out of me.

She didn’t look convinced.

“You don’t look fine,” she said calmly, not accusing, not pressing—just observing. “You look like you’re being forced to sit in the company of a ghost.”

My eyes widened.

The word ghost echoed through me, sharp and cold.

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. “No, I… I…” The sentence fell apart before it could form. There was no safe version of the truth. No rehearsed lie that felt solid enough to stand on.

She didn’t push. Instead, she picked up a small towel and dried her hands slowly, deliberately, as if giving me space to breathe.

“You don’t have to say anything about that,” Tina said quietly. Then she turned to face me.

Her eyes settled on mine—not sharp, not cruel. Curious. Searching.

“But I do have one question.”

My heart started pounding so loudly I was sure she could hear it.

I said nothing. I couldn’t.

“Tell me how you know of my twin sister,” Tina said evenly. “Nina.”

The name landed like a blow to the chest.

My breath hitched sharply, my body betraying me before my mind could catch up.

“I thought I heard you say her name earlier,” Tina added, her tone still calm, still gentle. “I got curious.”

Every instinct in me screamed to run.

To lie.

To disappear all over again.

I stood there frozen, water dripping from my fingers into the sink, my past standing right in front of me wearing a different face—and for the first time since I arrived in Perth, I wasn’t sure how long I could keep pretending I was someone new.