Chapter 2: Two Years Borrowed
1024 Words
“Do you ever think about that day?" Ella asks.
It's nearly midnight. Stella stands by the sink, rinsing wine glasses. Ella leans against the counter, hair tied up with one of Stella's scrunchies. Like nothing ever happened.
Stella doesn't look at her. “Which day?"
“The day I ran."
Silence.
Ella twirls her glass. “You remember, right? Mom crying. Dad yelling. You just stood there, clutching your planner like it could save you."
“I remember."
“I thought you'd stop me."
“I thought you were kidding."
Ella laughs—short, sharp. “Yeah. I always was the dramatic one."
Stella sets the glass down harder than she meant to.
Ella watches her. “Do you hate me?"
“No."
“That was fast."
Stella turns to face her. “I don't hate you. I don't have time to."
Ella's expression shifts. “You always did have your own way of being cruel."
“I covered for you," Stella says quietly. “I took your place so Mom wouldn't have a breakdown, so Dad wouldn't lose his deal with Andrew's father. I thought it would be temporary. A week. A month."
Ella lowers her eyes. “I never asked you to marry him."
“No. You just disappeared, and everyone else made the decisions for me."
A pause.
“You could've said no."
“I almost did."
“Then why didn't you?"
Stella's breath catches. “Because I thought I could fix it. I thought I could help everyone hold it together."
Ella crosses her arms. “And what about Andrew? You just married him like it was a task on your checklist?"
“It wasn't like that."
“Wasn't it?"
Stella walks to the pantry, suddenly needing space. “He didn't even notice, Ella. He never looked close enough to see the difference."
“Don't give me that. You're not me."
“No," Stella says. “I'm not. But he wasn't looking for a person. He was looking for a wife. A solution."
Ella tilts her head. “And you just happened to fall in love with him, right?"
Stella doesn't answer.
“That's what this is really about, isn't it?" Ella presses. “You didn't just borrow my life. You made it yours."
“I never wanted your life."
“Sure as hell looked like you did."
The air between them crackles.
“I fell in love," Stella says at last, voice soft but steady. “Not because he was yours. Because he was kind. Because he listened. Because for the first time, someone saw me."
Ella snorts. “Andrew? Kind? Are we talking about the same man?"
“He was different then."
“Or maybe you only saw what you wanted to see."
Stella steps forward. “I was going to tell him. So many times. But then he started bringing me tea when I worked late. He fixed the cabinet I couldn't reach. He remembered the way I took my coffee. And I thought… maybe I mattered."
Ella looks away.
Stella's voice cracks. “And then one day he stopped. No fights. No accusations. Just silence. Distance. And I thought, he found out. He knew."
Ella exhales. “He found out because of me."
“What?"
Ella winces. “I posted a video from Lisbon. Old footage. One of the concerts. His assistant saw it. Sent it to him. He called me two days later."
Stella's knees nearly buckle. “So that's when everything changed."
“I didn't mean for it to explode," Ella says. “I just… I missed the stage."
Stella laughs bitterly. “You missed the stage. I missed the truth."
The kitchen clock ticks.
Ella shifts. “I didn't come back to steal him."
“Then why did you come back?"
Ella looks her square in the eyes. “Because I had no one else."
Stella nods slowly. “Now you do."
They both fall quiet.
From the hallway, a door creaks. Andrew steps into the frame, hair tousled, phone in hand.
“I can hear both of you," he says. “Walls aren't soundproof."
Neither sister replies.
He walks in, sets his phone down. “You two need sleep."
Ella opens her mouth, but he raises a hand.
“I said sleep."
He turns to Stella. “We'll talk tomorrow."
“No," Stella says. “We're talking now."
He blinks. “It's late."
“You've been late for a year."
A long pause.
Andrew exhales. “Come upstairs."
Stella follows him in silence, leaving Ella behind.
—
The bedroom feels too large. Stella sits on the edge of the bed, hands in her lap.
Andrew stands by the window. “So you want to explain?"
“I already did."
“Not to me."
She looks at him. “You stopped being someone I could explain things to."
“That's convenient."
“No, Andrew. That's survival."
He runs a hand through his hair. “You lied to me."
“I was going to tell you."
“But you didn't."
“Because I loved you."
His face twitches. “And that made it okay?"
“No," she whispers. “Nothing made it okay. But I didn't do it to hurt you."
He sits across from her. “You let me marry you under false pretenses."
“You didn't even notice."
“I shouldn't have had to."
“And I shouldn't have had to live in Ella's shadow my entire life," she snaps. “But we don't always get what we deserve."
They stare at each other.
Andrew's voice is quiet. “I don't know what to do with this."
“You already decided," Stella says. “You brought her here. You chose her over me."
“She's your sister."
“She's your wife."
He looks away.
Stella stands. “No more pretending. If I'm not wanted, just say it."
He doesn't answer.
She walks to the door.
“Stella."
She pauses.
“I did love you."
She turns back, tears burning behind her eyes. “That's not enough anymore."
She leaves.
Behind her, the door stays open—but Andrew does not follow.
- Writer
