Chapter 17 The one I was meant to choose
Timothy
I was halfway through a conversation about acquisitions when my focus slipped.
The man in front of me, one of our long-term partners was droning on about overseas expansion, his voice fading into background noise. I nodded at the right moments, offered the occasional clipped response, my arm stiff where Hannah…Helena…whatever was latched onto it like she belonged there.
She didn’t.
Then I saw her.
Loretta stood across the room, framed by soft light and polished marble, looking exactly like she always did when she wanted to remind the world she owned it. Calm. Confident. Untouchable. A glass of champagne in her hand, laughter on her lips as she spoke to someone I didn’t recognize.
My words trailed off mid-sentence.
The partner frowned. “Timothy?”
I didn’t answer right away.
It was the first time I’d seen her since the wedding.
Since I’d stood at an altar and married her younger sister.
My chest tightened unexpectedly.
I’d sent Loretta flowers every day since then. Expensive ones. Thoughtful ones. Notes too, short, careful messages reminding her I hadn’t given up. She hadn’t responded to a single one.
Not even to tell me to go to hell.
Our relationship had never been simple. Five years of on and off, of explosive fights and intense reconciliations. She’d cheated twice. I’d walked away more than once, convinced we were poison to each other. We also had our character problems. Loretta was bitchy, mean and could be very cruel. I could too, plus I was very dismissive, always angry and whatnot. It was just a bad combination.
And yet, somehow, we always found our way back.
It was messy. Toxic, even. Super draining and I knew we weren’t good for each other at all.
But it was ours.
And it was still better than this farce I was trapped in now. Better than being manipulated into marriage by her conniving sister.
I forced myself to refocus long enough to wrap up the conversation, then placed a firm hand on Hannah’s arm.
“We’re moving,” I said quietly.
I didn’t wait for her response. I guided her across the room, my eyes never leaving Loretta.
Loretta saw us coming.
Her smile froze.
Something shuttered behind her eyes, her expression closing off as if she’d pulled a wall down between herself and the world. I felt a spark of irritation at that, at her ability to shut me out so completely.
Hannah cleared her throat. “Loretta…”
“Not now, Helena,” I snapped without thinking.
“I’m Hannah,” she corrected softly.
I ignored her.
“Loretta,” I said, stepping closer. “Can we talk? Privately.”
She didn’t even look at me. Took a sip of her drink instead, turned slightly toward the woman beside her.
“Loretta,” I repeated, lower this time.
Nothing.
My jaw tightened. “Don’t be childish.”
That did it.
Her head snapped toward me, eyes flashing. “Childish? You show up here with her and think you get to dictate anything to me?” She hissed under her breath.
“I just want five fucking minutes,” I said sharply. “That’s it.”
She stared at me for a long moment, her gaze flicking briefly to Hannah, assessing, measuring.
“Later,” she said coolly. “If I feel like it.”
It wasn’t a no. And I knew it was yes. She was just trying to be tough.
Satisfaction settled briefly in my chest.
Loretta turned then, her attention shifting fully to Hannah. Her lips curved into something sweet. Dangerous.
“Oh my God,” she exclaimed. “Hannah. You look… lovely.”
Hannah stiffened beside me.
“I was just telling everyone how proud I am of you,” Loretta continued, voice bright. “It takes so much courage to step into someone else’s life so seamlessly.”
The women nearby chuckled softly.
“I mean,” Loretta added, placing a hand over her heart, “I don’t think I could ever do what you did. I’d never be able to look at myself in the mirror.”
Hannah’s face drained of color.
“Loretta…” Hannah started.
“But really,” Loretta went on, smiling wider, “we’re sisters. I forgive you. I hope everyone here can too.”
Laughter rippled through the small circle. Polite. Amused. Cruel.
I felt Hannah’s body tense against mine.
She looked up at me then.
Just for a second. Her eyes were glassy. Shining. Silent. Help me, they said.
Something stirred uncomfortably in my chest.
I crushed it.
This wasn’t my problem. She’d put herself in this position. Whatever she felt now was the consequence of her actions.
I said nothing.
Loretta’s smile sharpened, clearly pleased. Hannah inhaled shakily, then plastered a smile on her face so convincing it almost hurt to look at.
“Excuse me,” she said, voice steady despite the tears clinging to her lashes. “I need some air.”
She slipped away quickly, disappearing into the crowd.
For a fleeting moment, I considered following her.
The image of her expression lingered; those eyes, so raw and unguarded.
I turned away instead.
I rejoined the men near the bar, laughing at the right moments, answering questions, reclaiming my role like nothing had happened.
Whatever I felt was irrelevant. This night was about appearances.
And Hannah, like everything else in this marriage, was nothing more than a complication I’d deal with later, and nothing more.