Chapter 2

After receiving a brief confirmation, I hung up.

Before the screen could go dark, a Facebook post caught my eye.

It was Kiera.

In the photo, she was pouting at the camera with the ballet trophy that should have been mine cradled in her arms.

[Guess winning takes a little luck, too. Thanks for the assist, sis. Love you.]

A needle, sharp and sudden, drove straight into my heart.

Expressionless, I scrolled down and saw Kiera's sharp-tongued best friend, Brooke Hayes, teasing in the comments.

[Careful. Aren't you worried Garrett will see this and give you a lecture?]

Kiera had replied with a tongue-out emoji.

[Fine, I'll take it down. Hope Garrett isn't mad at me.]

I drew a deep breath, about to block her account.

Then Garrett's reply popped up.

[The eternal runner-up finally won something. Why delete it? Flaunt it if you want.]

There was a time I would have naively read that as him mocking Kiera.

But now I realized that Garrett's favoritism had always been obvious.

I suddenly remembered how, back during our competition days, Kiera would throw a fit every time Garrett bought me new ballet shoes, demanding a pair for herself.

Garrett would act annoyed, but he always had someone deliver her an identical pair, sometimes even finer than mine.

I once asked him why he always indulged Kiera. He tapped me on the head with a resigned smile.

"Silly, I'm just keeping her from making your life difficult."

Footsteps on the stairs snapped me out of my thoughts.

Garrett pushed the door open and frowned slightly when he saw me, a hint of reproach in his expression.

"Why weren't you waiting downstairs? I've been looking everywhere for you."

Once, I would have rushed to the door at the slightest sound.

At the first sign of tiredness on his face, I would have fussed over him endlessly.

But now I just stood still, my gaze drifting to his neck.

The concealer there had been smudged away, exposing a vivid red hickey.

So Kiera's provocations had already become this brazen.

Seeing me silent, Garrett reached out to pull me into his arms.

"Vivi? What's gotten into you today? Still upset about the competition?"

"It's all right. Losing the Grand Prix is a shame, but you still have me. Once we're married, I'll make it up to you."

The words "make it up to you" hit me like a fist to the chest.

I sidestepped his hand. My voice came out colder than I recognized.

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that. My injuries from the accident have healed. I'm going to file an appeal with the committee to have the competition results reviewed."

Garrett's head snapped toward me, his eyes wide with shock.

"You can't do that. The award's already been given to Kiera..."

The moment the words left his mouth, he seemed to realize he had lost his composure. He covered it with a cough.

"Vivi, even if you've healed, jumping back in too fast could be dangerous. Why put yourself through that again?"

I clenched my fists, nails biting into my palms.

"I didn't go through ten years of suffering just so I could marry you. I'm not willing to let all of that be for nothing."

"Why are you so against this? Is it because you can't bear to see Kiera get hurt?"

Garrett's expression darkened, his voice dropping.

"Why are you dragging Kiera into this?"

"The decision is final. Why do you insist on stirring things up?"

"Besides, we're getting married in three days. You want to compete now?"

I let out a bitter smile.

"Cancel the wedding, and I can."

Garrett's pupils contracted. He stared at me in disbelief.

"Vivian, have you lost your mind? Marrying me has been all you've ever wanted since we were kids."

"Now you're throwing our wedding away over a trophy?"

"I'll chalk this up to you being overwhelmed today, but don't let it happen again!"

With that, he turned and slammed the door behind him.

As expected, the moment anything threatened Kiera's interests, his mask came off.

And I had been blind enough not to see it until now.

I took a deep breath and collapsed onto the bed, all strength drained from my body.