Even now, after months and months of therapy, rehab, and time to lick her wounds, it still hurt like crazy. She’d thought if anyone would have her back forever and ever, it would be her twin. Guess not. And part of her therapy was to forgive and to understand. To realize that she’d screwed over people along the way and hurt feelings, and forgive them if they no longer wanted anything to do with her. Most of the time she could do that. Most of the time, she understood.
But looking at the face so similar to her own and seeing Audrey’s expression shutter? Realizing that her twin still hated her?
Some things still hurt. A lot.
***
Gretchen nervously beat the batter in her bowl, watching the twins stare each other down. She had no idea what to do or which side to take. On her left, there was Daphne—impulsive cokehead and general ne’er-do-well. Except she’d turned over a new leaf and looked happier and healthier than she had in years—and there was clearly devastation in her eyes. On Gretchen’s right, there was Audrey—responsible, dependable, no-frills Audrey, who had picked up the pieces so many times when Daphne had fallen apart. Judging from the look on her face? She wasn’t ready to give Daphne another shot.
So . . . Gretchen had no idea what to do. Tell a joke? Force one twin to assemble croquembouche trees while the other dripped caramel? Fling her arms into the air and run away screaming? She nervously mixed batter, her mind whirling. The bridesmaids had gone silent, and the tension in the air was thick.
“Anyone want to taste test these?” Gretchen called out, and then gave a high-pitched, nervous laugh that sounded screechy and awful even to her own ears.
“You okay, Gretch?” Edie arched an eyebrow at her.
Meanwhile, the twins kept staring, oblivious.
Yeah, it was definitely time to do something. She stepped forward and pushed her bowl into Edie’s arms. “Go croquembouche away. I need to talk to my sisters for a few.” Before Edie could protest, Gretchen turned, grabbed each twin by the arm, and hauled them out of the kitchen. “Hold down the fort, Greer!”
“Me?” Greer protested. “I don’t know how to cook.”
“Yeah, but you’re the wedding planner,” Chelsea said. “Plan us, baby!”
Laughter broke out behind them. Her friends would be fine. It was her family that was going to fuck shit up if they didn’t get whatever this was out of their systems.
Both women were silent as she led them down the hall. Luckily, one of Buchanan Manor’s many studies was located near the kitchen and Gretchen steered her sisters in there and shut the door behind them. “Okay, so I feel like we should talk, guys.”
Audrey crossed her arms and gave Gretchen an icy look. She deliberately avoided looking over at Daphne. “I don’t know that there’s anything left to say.”
Awkward.
“Maybe—” Gretchen began.
“I’ve got something to say,” Daphne interrupted.
Oh boy. Gretchen braced herself for the worst, and as she watched, Audrey visibly stiffened.
Daphne looked at Gretchen, and then Audrey. Her face softened and her eyes shone with tears. “I think you look great, Aud. So happy.” She smiled at Gretchen. “You, too. I’m so happy for both of you.”
Gretchen could feel her eyes watering and she sniffed hard.
“Don’t,” Audrey said, raising a hand. “Just . . . don’t do this, okay?”
The hurt look returned to Daphne’s face. “Do what?”
Audrey closed her eyes, her face hard. “Don’t try and be all sweet to get back into our good graces.”
“She shouldn’t?” Gretchen asked, giving her sisters a worried look.
“No,” Audrey said flatly. “She shouldn’t. She had her chance a dozen times and each time she swore she would change. And each time, the moment she didn’t get her way, she went right back to her old ways. And I’m done with it. I’m done with crying over you, worrying over you. I’m done with hurting over you. I have a family, Daphne. I’m happy. And I don’t see room for you in it.”
Daphne flinched.
“Maybe she’s turned over a new leaf,” Gretchen suggested, her heart hurting for Daphne. “I mean, you look good, Daph. Very healthy, and—”
“And she’s looked that way before and slid,” Audrey retorted. “I have to question the timing.”
Daphne’s brows drew together and she crossed her arms, and for a moment, she looked stunningly like Audrey. “Wait. What timing? Christmas? Can I help it if I fucking wanted to see my family for the holiday?”
“Not Christmas! The wedding!” Audrey jabbed a finger in Gretchen’s direction. “Are you trying to fuck this up for her?”
“What? No!” Daphne gave Gretchen an aghast look. “Why would I do that? I just want you guys to be happy.”
“I don’t believe you,” Audrey said, and this time, her voice wobbled. “That’s the problem, Daphne. I never believe what you say anymore. I can’t trust you. And it doesn’t matter how many times you come back smiling and ready to make amends, because we’ve been hurt so many damn times with you!” She gestured frantically at Gretchen and herself. “If you were in our positions, would you trust?”
“No,” Daphne said, and her voice was small and aching. “I guess not.”
Oh god, she had to say something. Daphne looked as if she were ready to cry. Audrey looked as if she were ready to cry, too. What could she say to break them out of this funk? “Hey,” she croaked out. “Look at the bright side. There might not be a wedding to break up in a few days.”