I pause in my bedroom’s doorway, the soft sound of muted sobs making me freeze in place. I take a hesitant step forward, unable to ignore Celeste’s distress. She’s so lost in her grief that she doesn’t even hear me approach.
I slip into bed, and she tenses before burying her face in her pillow, trying her best to hide the evidence of her tears yet unable to keep her shoulders from shaking. My wife chokes back a sob, and her inability to keep from crying only results in further sounds of helpless agony.
My arms wrap around her, and I pull her against me wordlessly, her back flush against my bare chest. Celeste turns around and wraps her arms around my neck, seeking solace, and I hold on to her with all I’ve got.
“What happened, Celestial?” I whisper as I wrap my hand into her hair, my heart heavy. I’ve never seen her cry like this. In the days after Lily, she hid away from me, not wanting me anywhere near her. Perhaps that should’ve been a sign, but when it comes to her, I’ve always ignored every red flag. I still do.
Celeste clings to me desperately, her leg wrapping over my hip, and I tighten my grip on her. “I’m so s-sorry,” she stammers through her tears, and I gently caress her hair, wrapping her curls around my finger over and over again.
“What are you sorry for, my love?” What could’ve possibly happened to distress her this much?
Celeste’s breathing is choppy as she tries her best to chase away her sobs, and I just lie there with her, wishing I could take away her pain. I’d take it all from her if I could. “S-Sierra,” she tells me.
I tense at the sound of my sister’s name, protectiveness washing over me. I may not want Sierra to hurt Celeste, but similarly, I don’t want her hurting my sister any further either. “What happened?”
Celeste’s body trembles as she tells me about my grandmother’s cookies and the promises she tried to keep. All the while, I rub her back soothingly, a strange kind of jealousy settling deep in my chest. Out of everyone, Sierra is the only one she tried to make amends with. Not me. Sierra.
“I never meant to hurt her,” she whispers. The worst of her sobs have subsided, but her pain is still clear in her voice. “I didn’t want to push her away, but I couldn’t… she just… she reminded me of you, and every time I spoke to her, she did all she could to get us back together. No matter what I said, she wouldn’t listen, and I… I just pushed her away, and I’ve always regretted it.”
She buries her face against my neck, her breathing ragged, and I hug her tightly, my heart aching for both of them. Sierra doesn’t make friends easily, and I know how much Celeste meant to her. Neither Raven nor she would stop trying to get us back together until I sat them down and told them what Celeste had done to me, and to Windsor Hotels.
“You broke her heart when you broke mine,” I murmur. “She’s still hurt, not because we broke up, but because you left her without an explanation. After our parents…” I sigh and hold Celeste a little tighter. “Sierra doesn’t do well with being abandoned, and you were one of the few people she’s ever truly let in. Raven is very similar.”
My wife begins to cry all over again, and I rub her back soothingly, unsure what to do or say to make it better. “I miss her,” she admits, her voice breaking. “So much.”
I swallow hard, my own heart breaking. For years, I did all I could to convince myself she was some kind of scheming bitch, that everything was black and white, my hatred becoming all-encompassing. In reality, it’s never that simple. Not all the pain she caused was intentional, and not all her decisions came without regrets and self-inflicted heartache.
“She misses you too. Do you know how I know that?”
Celeste shakes her head, and I pull away a little to look at her. “For one, she took the cookies.” That makes my wife smile, and I grin back at her, relieved to find her grief lifted a little. “But what really gave it away was the hairpin you had in your hair on our wedding day, the one you keep with your jewelry. It’s one of Sierra’s most precious belongings, because it used to belong to our mother. I’m not sure how it ended up in your hair that day, but I can only assume she wanted it to be your something borrowed.”
I brush her tears away with my thumbs, but it’s to no avail, because she won’t stop crying. “Sierra is ruthless and swift in her decision-making,” I continue, “but she isn’t a mean person. The fact she’s lashing out at you means she still cares. I’ve seen her cut people out of her life without a second thought. When she decides she doesn’t care anymore, she genuinely doesn’t. It’s a quality I often wished I had too, but it’s one I could never replicate.”
She looks into my eyes, her gaze searching, like she isn’t sure she believes me. “Raven lent it to me,” she whispers. “The hairpin.”
I raise a brow in surprise. Sierra must’ve asked Raven to lend it to Celeste on her behalf. Raven was as hurt as Sierra was, but I should’ve known she’d be less stubborn. She has a heart of gold, and it’s often wasted on people. I hope that isn’t the case with Celeste.
“She told me she’d let me borrow it when she brought the wedding dress she’d designed for me. It was the one I always thought I’d marry you in, the one she and I would dream about. I didn’t think she’d ever create it, but she did.”
My heart skips a beat, and I stare at my wife in surprise. “Your wedding dress was always meant for us?” She nods, her gaze conflicted, a hint of shyness in her eyes. “So it was just the lingerie you intended for Emerson?” My voice is hard, my bitterness evident.
“No,” she whispers. “The bottoms of my shoes were my something blue. The lingerie… that was my something old. I bought it six years ago, when we…” She draws a shaky breath and hides her face against my neck. “I would never have worn it for him. I’m sorry, Zane. I just…”
She just wanted to hurt me. I sigh as I pull her closer, not having it in me to be mad at her, not tonight. “I’m glad,” I whisper, the truth coming easier in the darkness, with her body pressed against mine. I’m not sure her relationship with Sierra and Raven is salvageable, but the way she obviously still cares about them after all these years gives me hope I wish I didn’t feel.
