Chapter 2: Let Your Sister Have It
1681 Words
Chapter 2: Let Your Sister Have It
Aurora did not move.
The front door of the Bennett estate stood half-open, just wide enough for the laughter inside to spill out and wrap around her like a hand around her throat.
For a moment, she simply stood there on the marble steps, her phone still cold in her palm.
She had heard Cecilia’s voice through the call.
Now she heard it in person.
“Everett, is it too tight here?” Cecilia asked, her voice soft and sweet, with that practiced little tremble that always made people rush to comfort her. “I think the waist is a little small. Maybe I gained weight.”
“You?” Eleanor Bennett laughed warmly. “Don’t be silly. You’re so thin already. The dress fits you perfectly.”
Aurora’s fingers curled against the edge of her phone.
Perfectly.
Her wedding dress fit Cecilia perfectly.
Inside, someone else laughed. A younger woman’s voice, bright and careless.
“Mrs. Bennett is right. Cecilia, you look amazing. Honestly, this dress was made for you.”
Aurora knew that voice too.
Sophia Stone.
Everett’s younger sister.
Future sister-in-law, Aurora had once thought. She had tried to be patient with Sophia’s sharp comments, her spoiled temper, her habit of treating Aurora like an outsider who had sneaked into the Stone family through the wrong door.
She had told herself it would get better after the wedding.
Now Sophia’s voice rang out again.
“Everett, don’t you think so? Doesn’t Cecilia look like the real bride?”
The real bride.
Aurora’s chest tightened.
She should have pushed the door open right then. She should have walked in, demanded the dress back, demanded an explanation, demanded that every person in that room look her in the eye.
But her feet would not move.
Through the open doorway, she could see the edge of the living room mirror. She could not see Cecilia clearly yet, only a flash of ivory silk reflected in glass.
Her silk.
Her dress.
The one she had stood in three weeks ago while the designer pinned the waist and told her it would be perfect for her wedding day. The one she had not wanted to take off because, for one brief minute, she had let herself believe she was finally stepping into a life that belonged to her.
Everett’s voice came next.
Low. Gentle.
“Cecilia, you’re beautiful.”
The words landed quietly.
They hurt more because they were quiet.
Everett was not a man who praised easily. Aurora knew that better than anyone. In three years, she had learned how to survive on the smallest scraps from him—a nod when she helped him prepare a presentation, a brief smile when she brought him coffee, a “not bad” when she spent nights reviewing documents for his company.
She had taught herself to hear affection in restraint.
But he did not sound restrained now.
He sounded tender.
Cecilia giggled, a little breathless. “Really?”
“Really,” Everett said.
Someone clapped softly.
Aurora could picture Cecilia lowering her head, cheeks pink, lashes fluttering, looking as if she had accidentally received something she never dared to want.
Cecilia had mastered that expression.
The look of the innocent girl who never asked for anything, even while everyone handed her everything.
Aurora had seen it for ten years.
She had been sixteen when the Bennett family found her and brought her back from the children’s home. Biological daughter, they had called her. The child lost by accident. The daughter finally returned.
For a few foolish weeks, Aurora had believed the word daughter meant something.
Then she learned the truth.
Cecilia had already filled that space.
Cecilia was the one who knew which tea Eleanor liked in the afternoon. Cecilia was the one who had childhood photos framed on the walls. Cecilia was the one whose piano recitals, birthdays, fevers, tears, and smiles were remembered by everyone in the house.
Aurora had returned as blood.
Cecilia remained the beloved child.
And the old engagement between the Bennett family and the Stone family had been changed after Aurora came back. The agreement required the Bennett family’s biological daughter to marry the Stone heir.
So Everett, who had once belonged to Cecilia in everyone’s imagination, became Aurora’s fiancé.
No one had said Cecilia blamed her.
No one had needed to.
Aurora had felt it in every soft sigh, every fragile smile, every time Cecilia said, “It’s okay, Aurora deserves it,” while looking as if she had just swallowed broken glass.
Now Cecilia stood inside Aurora’s wedding dress.
And everyone was smiling.
Sophia’s voice rose again, full of satisfaction.
“I’ve always said Cecilia has better taste. Look at her. She looks like she belongs in this dress.”
Eleanor chuckled. “You children and your nonsense.”
But she did not disagree.
Aurora’s hand tightened until the edge of her phone dug into her palm.
Inside, Cecilia said softly, “Don’t say that. This is Aurora’s dress. If she knew I tried it on, she might be upset.”
Aurora almost laughed.
Might be upset.
As if Cecilia had stepped on the hem by accident.
As if she had not stood there asking Everett to admire her in another woman’s wedding gown.
As if she had not known exactly what she was doing.
Everett’s voice came, softer than before.
“She won’t make a fuss.”
Aurora’s breath stopped.
“She’s your sister,” Sophia added quickly. “If she gets angry over a dress, that’s ridiculous.”
A dress.
Just a dress.
Not the dress Aurora was supposed to wear when she married Everett.
Not the dress she had chosen after telling herself she could finally have one beautiful thing that Cecilia had not touched first.
Not the dress that carried every quiet hope she had been too embarrassed to say out loud.
Just a dress.
Eleanor sighed in the indulgent tone she always used with Cecilia.
“Cecilia, don’t overthink it. Your sister is older. She should be more understanding.”
Aurora stared at the gap in the door.
Older.
Aurora was twenty-five. Cecilia was not a child. But in this house, Cecilia’s tears had always turned her into someone small, someone breakable, someone everyone needed to protect.
Aurora’s pain, on the other hand, was always treated like a bad habit.
If she was hurt, she was sensitive.
If she was angry, she was jealous.
If she asked for fairness, she was ungrateful.
Cecilia’s voice came again, almost whispering. “But this is her wedding dress.”
For the first time, Aurora stepped closer to the doorway.
The living room came into view.
Cecilia stood in the center of it, surrounded by people as if she were already the bride at a private fitting. The ivory gown hugged her waist and spilled around her feet in a pool of silk and glittering beadwork. A veil hung loosely over one arm. Her dark hair was pinned up, exposing her delicate neck.
She looked lovely.
That was the cruelest part.
She looked exactly the way Aurora had once hoped to look.
Eleanor stood beside her, smoothing the waist of the gown with a proud, tender smile. Sophia leaned against the sofa, arms crossed, looking delighted by the spectacle. Several staff members hovered nearby, pretending not to watch.
And Everett stood in front of Cecilia.
His eyes were fixed on her.
Not on the stolen dress.
On her.
Aurora’s throat tightened until it hurt.
Everett reached out and gently touched Cecilia’s cheek.
“Cecilia,” he said, “you deserve every beautiful thing in this world.”
The room softened around them.
Cecilia’s eyes shimmered. Eleanor looked moved. Sophia looked smug.
Aurora stood at the doorway, unseen, and felt something inside her c***k cleanly down the middle.
So that was it.
Cecilia deserved every beautiful thing.
And Aurora?
Aurora had been expected to understand.
To share.
To step aside.
To be grateful for whatever was left after Cecilia had chosen first.
Eleanor patted Cecilia’s arm.
“All right, don’t look so guilty. If you really like it, just keep it for the wedding.”
Cecilia drew in a tiny breath. “Mom, no. Aurora will be angry.”
“Angry about what?” Sophia cut in. “It’s not like she can’t order another one. Besides, you’re going to be the bridesmaid. You should look good too.”
Eleanor nodded, as if the matter had already become reasonable in her mind.
“Yes. This one suits Cecilia. Let Cecilia wear it as her bridesmaid dress. Aurora can order another wedding dress.”
Aurora did not blink.
Her ears rang.
Another wedding dress.
As if a bride’s wedding dress could be handed away like a spare coat.
As if the month before her wedding was enough time to replace not only the gown, but also the humiliation.
As if Aurora herself were the inconvenience in this room.
Cecilia lowered her head. “But Aurora chose this one.”
Eleanor smiled and tucked a loose strand of hair behind Cecilia’s ear.
“Then she can choose again.”
Sophia laughed. “Exactly. She’s your sister. Why can’t she let you have this one thing?”
This one thing.
Aurora thought of the engagement that had once belonged to Cecilia.
The parents who still belonged to Cecilia.
The brother who defended Cecilia.
The family photos, the birthdays, the bedroom upstairs, the love that had never been divided because Aurora had never truly received any of it.
This one thing.
Everett did not speak.
Aurora looked at him, waiting.
Just one word.
No.
That was all he had to say.
No, this is Aurora’s dress.
No, Cecilia, take it off.
No, this has gone too far.
Everett only looked at Cecilia in Aurora’s wedding gown, his expression gentle in a way Aurora had spent three years trying to earn.
Then Eleanor said, light and calm, as if she were discussing flowers for the reception, “Let your sister have it.”
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