Page 86 of Fashionista's Playbook

When I didn’t respond, she leaned forward in her chair. “When I was six, you cut off all my hair because Mom brushed it every night telling me how pretty it was. When you got in trouble, you told Dad it wasn’t fair that mom loved my hair more than yours. Then you stole the lead in the middle school musical from me. When I worked my ass off, saved up, and bought myself a new car, you got mad and backed Dad’s truck into it!”

“I don’t remember cutting your hair. I was what, three? I won that musical fair and square and the car thing was an accident.” Fuming, Elise fidgeted in her chair.

“That musical was the first time I was ever proud of myself, and all you did was make fun of me for it.” And it still hurt me.

“You only wanted it because I did, Moriah.” She deflated and leaned back in her chair.

That was not how I remembered it, but I took a seat beside her and spoke softly. “The first I heard of the musical was when Mr. Hill asked me to audition. I never knew it was a big deal to you.”

“You never asked.”

“If I had, it would have become a competition. You turned everything into a way to beat me at something, be better than me.”

The divide between us was so wide, neither of us would ever make it across. How did one start to fill in a gap that was too big to jump over?

“If I didn’t, they gave you everything. Mom, Dad, and even Grandpa. You could do no wrong and heaven forbid if something upset you.” She said with decades of resentment.

“Is that why you orchestrated the single worst moment of my life?”

The silence stretched out until I figured she wasn’t going to respond.

“Steven convinced me that you’d come on to him, tried to get him to sleep with you.” She was quiet, almost meek, a side of Elise I’d never seen before.

“What?” I barked a cynical laugh. “He tried to kiss me when he dropped you off after homecoming. I told him to get lost.”

“Ten years ago, I wouldn’t have believed you.” The haunting way she spoke said a lot.

“And now?”

“The Pigmo thing had always been his idea. Now, I know why. He still hates rejection, makes him ridiculously angry. He told the entire town I gave him herpes.”

When my eyes flashed, she laughed. “I mean, he has herpes now, but I’ve not had sex with him since my last pregnancy. He didn’t get them from me.”

Well, there was that. Steven Holt had herpes. Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.

“I meant what I said about Travis. He’s awesome.” She caught my gaze, her features soft and tired, and held it. “And this isn’t the wine. I’m happy for you. More than I thought I could be. And it doesn’t count for much, I know, but I am so sorry for the role I had in hurting you.”

“I can’t forgive you, yet.” I whispered, as the realization that I couldn’t shifted on my shoulders. It would take some doing, to fix that part of our relationship. “You really thought I made a play for Steven?”

“Well yeah, I mean…you do have a thing for football players.” She eyed the massive house.

I didn’t, not really. Just Travis, but I grinned. “They aren’t even comparable.”

“You aren’t lying, not even a little.” She giggled, her voice hoarse from crying.

“I wouldn’t have thought you’d go for someone like Mr. Universe in there, to be honest.” She was laughing now.

The good-natured sound from her both surprised me and made me uneasy. I waited, my fingers clenched, for her to say something mean.

“All the tattoos didn’t seem like something you’d go for. But the rest of him?Meow.”

“Before Travis, I never went for the athlete or the bad boy type.” Before Travis, I didn’t realize I had a shot with either. If this didn’t work out, I’d always be grateful to him for showing me my worth when the opinions of others had always destroyed it.

“It works, though. I dunno how, but it does.” She scrunched her nose in that way Elise did when she was honestly surprised. “And despite how awful that prank was, things worked out for you, way better than any of us.”

She wasn’t wrong, but I wasn’t going to gloat. Not because I didn’t deserve to, but she’d accused me of being that type of person which meant I couldn’t be. I wasn’t going to give Elise a chance to be the victim in any of this. Not now, not ever. Even if I did forgive her one day.

“The only good thing I got from Steven Holt was my babies. Turns out, shame and humiliation are the only things he knows how to dish out. I admit,”—she wiped her face with her shirt sleeve—“I’m jealous of the new guy. He’s gorgeous and rich. But, he’s good to you.”

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