Page 85 of Fashionista's Playbook

“I never asked you to. That’s why I made the choice for all of us when I left for college.”

“Moriah’s right. It’s my fault.” Elise’s voice was small and warbled as she leaned against the door frame and upturned the open wine bottle. “Sorry to interrupt—again—but I was empty.”

“Where have you been?” Mom jumped up, concern replacing her anguish.

“It’s a big house, easy to be alone if you want to.” She didn’t even look at me. “I’m single, maybe I was trying to find a new man around here. It worked for Moriah.”

“Elise…” Mom got to her feet.

“She’s drunk, not injured, Mom. She’ll be fine in a few hours.”

“Time I can spend back at the hotel.” Before Mom could protest, she chucked the wine bottle into the trash with a glass-breaking clang. “Mo—Moriah has made it clear that she doesn’t want me here.”

The sting that had always come attached to her barbs, was gone. She held her hands up in ahey look at mepose. “Surprise! Someone else I loved who hates the sight of me.”

I rolled my eyes, but before Mom could rush to coddle poor, pitiful Elise, I waved her off. “There’s no reason to leave right now. Dad and the boys are having a great time.”

About that time, Travis leaned into the kitchen. “We’re moving into the den, let Ryan on the Xbox and watch the last game.”

“Sure.” I glanced at my emotionally broken mother and guilt slammed into my chest “Elise, want to go sit outside and catch up?”

Travis’ gaze jerked to mine in surprise, but he didn’t question me. Instead, he disappeared back down the hall, Ryan on his heels asking him about some racing game. I nodded toward the side door and Elise followed.

“He seems like a good guy.”

“Travis is the best.” I sat in a chair near the fire pit. I contemplated lighting it, but instead enjoyed the cool, fresh air.

“Vincent seems pretty great too.”

I snorted a laugh. It was petty of me, but I didn’t warn her away from him. I shrugged and let it hang. If she wanted to hide out with Vin, that was her mess to clean up. Not mine.

For a long time, we didn’t say anything.

“Why all this hate for me?” She asked quietly. “Is it that stupid Pigmo prank?”

As much as I’d put the incident behind me, I still flinched when she said it. But I wouldn’t give her the power of letting her see it.

I closed my eyes against the throb that formed behind them.

Her impatient sigh probably came with a steady tapping of her foot. “It wasn’t my idea. They didn’t even tell me who Pigmo was until a few nights before prom because they were afraid I’d tell you.”

“And youdidn’ttell me. You let me walk in there and be humiliated. No amount of apology can fix that, Elise.” I was on a roll now. “You’ve had years, a damn decade, to make amends. But you didn’t. You expected me to pretend it didn’t happen.”

This time I opened my eyes and looked at her, silent tears tracked down her cheeks. But I still found no sympathy. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Are you really? Because the girl who helped me do my hair, posed for pictures with me, and held the door open for me while laughing definitely wasn’t sorry. She wanted me to eviscerate me.”

Full crying now. “I was stupid, so stupid. Everything in my life revolved around Steven and you—you had it all. Brains, beauty, everyone loved you.”

“Obviously, they did not. Or they wouldn’t have spent an entire year hell bent on humiliating me. I didn’t even go back to school, Elise. I graduated at home behind a computer while you moved out, got married, and started a life for yourself.”

I stood, stalked toward the fire pit and flicked it on. She was shaking, whether from the cold or emotion I couldn’t tell. And I wouldn’t stoop to her level. I didn’t want to hurt her, I just wanted to fix me.

“It was so wrong. I never realized until I had kids how very wrong it was. I couldn’t imagine one of them hurting the other like I did to you.”

“Elise, you’ve never been kind to me.”

“And you have?” She narrowed her gaze and swiped at a tear with the back of her hand. “God, Moriah, you’re not a saint.”

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