Chapter 4

Chloe wept loudly, fat tears rolling down her cheeks.

She gripped the curtains, making them rustle violently. Half her body hung outside the window, but her hands held on tight. She kept looking back over her shoulder, trying to force me to surrender.

Naturally, my parents and Brandon rushed over in terror.

Two held her hands, one wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her securely inside.

Brandon whipped his head around and screamed at me:

"Sierra, are you just going to stand there? Apologize to Chloe right now!"

"She's your sister! Why can't you just let things go? Do you really have to drive her to suicide before you're satisfied?"

Brandon glared at me with pure fury.

My parents glared at me too.

As if I—the bride whose gown was taken, whose ring was stolen, and whose name was replaced—was the villain from start to finish.

A few feet away, Chloe peeked through her tears, shooting me a triumphant, smug smirk.

A sudden wave of exhaustion washed over me.

I was completely drained. I didn't want to fight about who was right or wrong anymore.

I gave Chloe a slight bow and spoke in a calm, flat voice:

"I'm sorry, Chloe."

"It's my fault for not being a good older sister and not letting you have your way. Please come down. I was wrong."

Satisfied at last, Chloe reluctantly stepped down from the windowsill.

My parents and Brandon crowded around her instantly, wiping her tears, patting her back, and whispering comforting words.

Once she stopped crying, she shot me a resentful glare.

"Fine, I forgive Sierra."

"She's my sister, I can't stay mad at her forever. We still have a reception to finish. Tell the makeup artist to fix her makeup so she doesn't embarrass our family and Brandon."

Her words earned immediate praise from my parents and Brandon. They praised her for being so mature and sweet, telling me I should learn from her.

The room slowly quieted down.

The farce of a wedding was expected to go on.

My mom escorted Chloe out first, not forgetting to glare at me before leaving.

"I don't know how you turned out like this. Your little sister is ten times more sensible than you!"

My dad told the coordinator to ignore the mistake and just hand out the favors printed with Chloe's name to the guests.

Soon, Brandon and I were the only ones left in the room.

He looked at me and let out an annoyed sigh.

"Sierra, I honestly don't know what got into you today. The makeup artist will be here in a minute. Put your gown back on so we can redo the ceremony."

He turned to walk away.

I couldn't help but call out to him.

"Brandon."

He stopped in his tracks and looked back.

"Don't you have anything else to say to me?"

Brandon paused for a moment, then chose to lecture me again:

"Stop being angry, Sierra. As an older sister, you need to learn to compromise."

He pushed the door open and left.

I stared at his retreating back, at a loss for words.

When the makeup artist knocked on the door, I finally snapped out of it and let her in.

"Sierra, close your eyes. Let me put some foundation on to cover those tear tracks."

I raised a hand to stop her and looked her in the eyes.

"No need. You didn't mistake Chloe for me this morning, did you?"

"Who authorized you to do her bridal makeup and put her in my designer dress?"

The makeup artist hesitated, but seeing my expression, she finally told the truth.

"Your sister wanted to steal the spotlight."

"Brandon... he agreed to it. He told me to play along and pretend it was an honest mistake."

I wasn't surprised. It was exactly what I expected.

It just hurt. My chest ached so fiercely that I could barely breathe.

The makeup artist raised her beauty blender, trying to coax me.

"Sierra, let me touch you up. You won't look your best on stage otherwise..."

I tilted my head, dodging her hand.

"No need."

She blinked in confusion.

"Are you going on stage bare-faced in your gown? That might not look good in photos."

I shook my head, grabbed my purse, and slung it over my shoulder.

"No. I'm not wearing the gown either."

"I'm leaving."

I gave the stunned makeup artist a genuine, relieved smile.

It was the most liberating decision I had made in all my twenty-seven years.

Without looking back, I walked out the door, hailed a cab home, grabbed my passport and essential documents, and left. I didn't even pack a single change of clothes.

Why would I want clothes that Chloe had already picked over?

I took a cab straight to the airport.

I didn't care where I went. I walked up to the counter and asked for a ticket on the earliest flight out.

Right before boarding, my phone buzzed with frantic texts from Brandon:

[Sierra, the makeup artist said you ran away. Stop fooling around!]

[Where are you? Answer me!]

[Do you want to get married or not?! Get your ass back here right now!]

I looked at the screen, then pressed down hard on the power button.

Brandon, I'm not marrying you.

And I'm never coming back.