You Want My Sister? Fine! I'll Have Your Uncle

Chapter 3

SOPHIE WESLEY

CONGRATULATIONS, MS WESLEY. YOU'RE THREE MONTHS GONE.

My grip tightened on the paper, hands shaking, eyes blur with tears as the city slid past us.

I had just left the hospital in a cab.

I pressed my palm flat on my stomach, my chest tightening.

Any other time, I would have called Anthony before the cab had even pulled away. I would have cried happy tears all the way home, but he was busy planning a wedding with my sister.

Who knows, he might not even accept this child.

"We're here, Ms."

The cab had stopped in front of the Wesley mansion.

The driver's gaze found mine in the rearview mirror as he asked, "are you okay, Ms?"

I stared at him. I almost let out everything. Almost, but I just smiled, nodded, and stepped out of the car.

I folded the paper, tucked it into my bag, and headed inside.

"Mom, isn't this beautiful? Anthony picked it himself." Ivy's voice echoed from the living room the moment I stepped inside.

My legs stilled, my breath catching in my throat.

She was standing in the middle of the room in a familiar white off-shoulder wedding gown, turning slowly for Mom. And Anthony... He stood nearby, watching her with a warm smile like she was everything that mattered to him.

My stomach dropped.

That dress. That was the same dress I showed to Anthony months ago. I'd told him I wanted to wear it on our wedding day, and yet he chose the same dress for her?

His smile faltered the moment he noticed me. For a second, something moved across his face... guilt, maybe, or it was just my wishful thinking. Then he turned back to Ivy without a word.

My grip tightened on my bag, my throat closing tightly as my gaze dropped to the dress again.

"Sophie... You're here." Ivy's gaze met mine, a smile on her face.

"You've been staring. Is it that beautiful?" She smoothed the dress with both hands. "Anthony picked it. I wasn't sure at first, but then he mentioned it was based on the sample you'd already chosen, and I thought..." She paused and gasped, her hands moving to cover her mouth, eyes narrowed. "Oh God. I didn't just say that out loud, did I?"

I turned to Anthony.

Ivy stepped between us before I could speak. "Please don't blame him. He told me you'd wanted it, but I couldn't find anything else I liked as much. If you're angry, please take it out on me instead."

I scoffed. What a flawless performance. Perhaps she should consider auditioning for a role as an actress. I'm sure she would bag one.

I held her gaze for a moment, then turned quietly and headed to my room.

Back in my room, I sat on the edge of my bed and unfolded the paper again.

A small smile crept up my face. I placed my free hand on my stomach.

They could take everything else, but not my baby.

A knock on the door, and I quickly slid the paper under my pillow and composed myself before the door opened.

Ivy walked in, still wearing the dress. She didn't look at me.

She walked straight to my floor-length mirror, a smile on her face as she studied her reflection.

"You have a questionable taste, you know?" Her smile dropped, her face twisting with disgust. "Did you actually find this dress pretty?" She tilted her head at the mirror.

So that was it. She didn't choose the dress because she loved it. She'd chosen it because Anthony told her I did.

I scoffed, then stood up.

For years I had stayed quiet. I'd swallowed every insult and called it consideration and keeping the peace. I'm done being the peace keeper.

I folded my arms on my chest, eyes on her. "You must want to be me so badly, you'd go to any length to take what I love, hmm?"

She turned from the mirror, colors draining from her face. "What?"

"Anthony. The dress." I took a step forward. "Tell me you have an inferiority complex without actually saying so."

Her mouth opened. Nothing came out.

"Does it make you feel better?" A smile curled my lips without reaching my eyes. "Taking my things... does it fill something in you? Make you feel like you've won something back?"

Her jaw tightened. Then her hand swung and caught me hard across the face without warning.

"How dare..."

My palm cracked harder across her face before she could fully land.

Her hand flew to her face, and before she could recover from the slap, my palm cracked against the other side of her face.

Her eyes widened as she staggered back.

For years, I'd stayed quiet. Smiled through her insults, and even when she raised her hands on me, I never fought back. But never again!

She stared at me for a moment... Then she screamed.

Five seconds. That was all it took. Dad and Anthony came through the door, Mom right behind them, all three of them rushing to Ivy like she'd been shot.

"Are you okay? What happened?" Mom's hands were on Ivy's face.

"What did you do to her?" Anthony turned to me, his voice hard and stripped of every warmth I've recognised for years, his eyes burning with rage.

He's not even going to ask me what happened? He's just going to assume I hurt her?

"Sophie. I'm talking to you!" He gritted.

"Why are you asking me?" For the first time, I spoke to Anthony coldly. I was always soft with him, shy around him because I was madly in love with him.

He glanced at Ivy.

"I came to apologise. I know she's upset about the wedding, about the dress... And everything. I only wanted to make things right between us." Her voice cracked. "I don't understand why she attacked me."

Anthony looked back at me. "Is that true?"

I almost laughed. I looked at each of them... Anthony searching for a reason to believe her, Mom already certain of the answer, Dad's face tight with disappointment.

They'd already made up their minds. None of them would believe me.

"You vile witch." Mom's voice was firm and disgusted. "Over a man and a dress? You could have hurt her!"

My chest tightened, knuckles already hard and white at my sides.

It's been seventeen years... Had she ever considered me her daughter?

Of course, not. If she ever did, Ivy's return would've changed nothing. To her, I've always been nothing but a placeholder.

My gaze dropped to my stomach, tears blurring my vision.

I can't stay here. I'm not going to stay in this hellhole of a house.

I'm leaving with my baby...