Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Xavier was a notorious player, a man who moved through women like they were seasonal trends. I was the opposite, the quintessential good girl that everyone expected to live a quiet life.

When we got together, he supposedly traded his wild ways for devotion. He became the man who only had eyes for me, or so the world thought.

But on our wedding day, the facade crumbled. Xavier left me standing at the altar, clutching my white bouquet, as he walked out in front of every guest we knew.

That was the day I realized his heart never belonged to me. It belonged to my sister, the girl who had abandoned me in a crowd when we were kids just to keep our parents' love for herself.

Eventually, the love I had for Xavier burned out. And that was when he started crawling back, begging for a second chance.

Everyone believed Xavier and I were a match made in heaven. I was foolish enough to believe it, too.

A few minutes ago, the priest asked Xavier if he took me to be his wife. I waited for him to say the words "I do." Instead, he whispered a jagged "I'm sorry" and sprinted out of the chapel.

The groom was gone, and the wedding was dead. My parents scrambled to calm the guests, but they couldn't stop the suffocating waves of pity directed at me.

A friend of mine followed Xavier and eventually sent me an address. It was a hospital.

I stood outside the door of the private room she mentioned. Through the thin wood, I heard Xavier's voice.

"Lyla, how could you be so careless? You had me worried sick the entire way here."

His voice was thick with an urgency and terror I had never heard before. He was loud enough that every word pierced my ears.

Lyla. That was my sister's name.

I wanted to believe it was a coincidence, a shared name and nothing more. But Xavier was blocking the view, and I couldn't see her face until she spoke in a weak, airy tone.

"Xavier, you used to call me Ly-Ly."

My heart stopped. It wasn't a coincidence. The woman Xavier had abandoned me for at the altar was my own sister.

Xavier always told me he loved it when I called him Xavi. He said he loved calling me Shara-bear.

Now I knew the truth. Those pet names were just recycled ghosts of whatever he had with Lyla Thorne.

I watched through the small glass window for what felt like an eternity. I watched him fuss over her, adjusting her pillows and checking her temperature with a tenderness that made my stomach churn.

Other patients walked by and complimented Lyla on her attentive boyfriend. Neither of them corrected them. They just shared a secret, intimate smile.

The sight was so sharp it felt like a blade in my gut. I turned and fled the hallway.

My name is Shara Thorne. My sister is Lyla.

To be honest, I barely knew her. When I was three, she took me out to play and supposedly lost me to a kidnapper. I didn't find my way back to the family until I was fifteen.

By the time I returned to the Thorne house, she was already leaving for college abroad. Our parents wanted her to come back and run the family business, but she refused, building a life in London instead.

Since my return, we only saw each other at Christmas. We were strangers who happened to share blood.

For this wedding, our parents begged her to fly in. she claimed she was too busy with work.

So why was she here now, in a local hospital? And why was Xavier the first person she called for help?

I ended up at the house Xavier and I were supposed to share as newlyweds. I sat on the sofa, shivering in the silence.

The massive wedding portrait on the wall felt like a mockery. I couldn't look at our smiling faces anymore.

I called Xavier's best friend, demanding to know the truth about him and Lyla. He hesitated, stuttering through excuses, but eventually, he spilled everything.

When I hung up, my mind was a total blank. The world felt muffled.

He told me they were childhood sweethearts. Xavier had once admitted, while wasted, that if Lyla hadn't moved away, she would have been the one in the white dress today.

I had been a placeholder for my sister for five years. I held back the tears during the call, but as soon as the line went dead, the dam broke.

My vision blurred. I couldn't breathe, gasping for air like a fish out of water.

I forced myself into a hot shower and downed some melatonin. I needed the world to go away.

The next morning, I walked into the kitchen to find Xavier at the table. Breakfast was served, just like any other morning during our engagement.

I wanted to pretend yesterday was a nightmare. Then I saw his hand. His wedding ring was gone.