The brightness of the day shone through open windows.
She’d been too exhausted to open her windows last night.
And now that she was listening, someone hummed in the background.
Emily squinted into her room and saw her sister near the coffeemaker as she hummed an old tune. Emily sat up and Sophie smiled at her as she said, “You slept like the dead, Em.”
She glanced out the window and saw the sun was high in the sky. How long had she been asleep?
Her sister must have been right because her mind was clear and her words last night to Dane seemed like she’d spit venom at him. She’d been so certain that she no longer needed false hope. She didn’t need to cling to things that made her wish that, one day, Dane might come for her. Ten years was a long time. Her father had proven to her that she couldn’t trust in any man.
The only reason Dane had come back into her life was for his mother’s necklace, and now it was lost. Chasing around the countryside half the night proved he cared more about the chase than actually her, right? Or that was silly as she’d told him she wanted it back, which made her the problem. She shivered as she scooted off the bed. “Sophie, it’s later than I thought.”
Sophie brought her a cup of coffee. “You couldn’t be woken. I’m glad you’re okay.”
Okay. Last night could have been horrible. She could be dead or raped or who knows what, if Dane hadn’t shown up, and she’d treated him terribly. Emily sipped her coffee—the roast tasted somehow smoother here in France. She looked into the dark liquid and said, “Dane risked his neck to save me.”
Sophie sat next to her, sipped her own coffee, and let out a sigh once she finished. “Michael is disappointed that he missed seeing his son again.”
Last night she’d asked Dane to wait.
But then again, she hadn’t been very nice to him.
Not seeing him today was a dagger to her heart.
This wasn’t good. She blinked and put the coffee cup down as she asked, “Wait, what?”
Sophie sighed and she stared at her like Emily was a science experiment as she said, “Michael wanted to talk to Dane, but he left before breakfast.”
If her sister saw into her soul, she’d see how completely she’d messed up her life. Entirely.
Dane hadn’t done anything to her for her to be so brittle and hard. She stood from the bed, but the whip of the comforter knocked her coffee cup to the floor. Sophie said, “Dane checked out of the hotel.”
Oh no. She’d screwed up. Emily hurried to the bathroom and found a towel to clean up her mess. She returned, knelt down and shook her head. “Oh. Sophie that’s my fault.”
Emily came beside her but stopped her from mopping the floor as she held her wrist lightly. “How? What did you do?”
“I broke up with him.”
Sophie picked up the pieces of her broken porcelain cup.
This was exactly like her life. Screwed up and broken. Emily fit the small pieces into the shell that remained as her sister asked her, “You what?”
“We broke up.” She knelt next to her cup that reflected her life. She couldn’t face her sister as heat rose in her cheeks.
Sophie took the cup and tossed it in the metal trashcan. “Why?”
The last person that might understand stared at her. To Sophie the world was bright and beautiful and sweet and kind. Her sister never saw anything bad in anyone or anything. Emily stood and let out a long sigh as she said, “Because it wasn’t going to work out and it was only a matter of time until it ended anyhow. I couldn’t look at him and just wait for that shoe to drop.”
Sophie tilted her head and stared at her like she belonged in a mental institution for admitting the truth. “Because he ran off after prom?”
Boom. She’d hit the nail on the head. “How do you know about that?”
“I’m your sister.” Sophie breezed across her hotel room and opened the closet to reveal navy blue pants and a blue and purple top that Emily would have chosen for herself.
Emily followed, though her heart had sunk into her stomach. “I never said a word to you or anyone.”
Her sister shrugged and took out the shoes she’d clearly bought for her as she said, “We have tracker apps on our phones. We knew you were together.”