I was never his first choice

Lydia's POV: When my fiancé, Arthur Callahan, bought my wedding ring, he did what he always did. He bought two and let my older twin sister, Irene Monroe, choose first. One was a diamond ring he'd paid $3,000,000 for at an auction. The other was a cheap plain band he'd picked up at a flea market for less than 10 bucks. I pointed to the diamond ring and said, "Could I choose first this time?" Arthur gave my cheek a little pinch. "Irene's always been competitive. If she can't have the best, she'd rather have nothing. You're not nearly as particular. There's nothing wrong with the other one." I didn't answer. I only felt a strange emptiness in my chest. For as long as I could remember, Irene had always come first with Arthur. Sometimes it seemed as though she was his girlfriend. I looked at the cheap ring, then pushed it back. "Irene, you can have both. I don't want either one." I decided to let Arthur go. I was done taking whatever she left behind. Arthur let out a weary sigh. "Lydia, a cheap ring like this isn't good enough for Irene." I looked him straight in the eye. "But it's good enough for me?" He paused, then looked at me and laughed. "When you two stood together as kids, didn't everyone say Irene was more elegant? A flashy diamond ring would look wrong on you. You couldn't pull it off. The plain band is simple and understated. Anyone could wear it." My nails dug into my palm. Irene and I were twins, but I couldn't match her at anything. At school, she always came first in our class. I studied until my eyes were bloodshot and barely managed average grades. My mother would look at my report card and sigh. "How can twins be so different? Oh, well. One successful child is enough." I trailed after Irene, carrying her things, fetching her water, and putting away her art supplies. For 10 years, everyone had called me her little sidekick. I'd told Arthur more than once I hated that nickname. Every time, he would promise in all seriousness, "Okay. I won't call you that anymore." But whenever Irene was around, the same nickname would slip out again. Later, he told Irene he had feelings for her, but painting was all she cared about. Every hour she had went into her canvases, her paintings, and her art. Crushed by her rejection, Arthur turned around and asked me out instead. I still remembered how thrilled I'd been. Now, though, I looked at him calmly. "Arthur, I'm breaking up with you." He stared at me, then smiled as though he were soothing a child having a tantrum. "Come on. If you don't like the plain band, just pick something else. Is that really a reason to threaten to break up? Let's go to a jewelry store right now. You can keep looking until you find one you like. Okay?" Irene pushed the diamond ring toward me. "Lydia, take this one. You're getting married. Don't make a fuss over something so small." But Arthur stopped her. "I picked that one out especially for you. Something that dazzling doesn't suit Lydia. It would be wasted on her." He'd never really intended to let us choose. He'd picked it for her all along. Arthur put an arm around my shoulders and led me out. But as soon as we reached the first floor of the mall, Irene said she wanted to look at some new dresses. He immediately nodded. "Let's help Irene find a dress first, then pick out your ring. There's no rush." It was happening again. Irene spent a long time trying on dresses. She liked two of them and stood in front of the fitting room mirror, unable to decide. Arthur noticed her dilemma. "Just get both. You keep one and give the other to Lydia. You're about the same size, so it'll fit her too." He paid, then held the bags out to me. "There. Now we don't even have to buy you a gift. Your sister has good taste. Are you happy now?" I didn't take them. I almost laughed. 'Didn't he say we came here to choose something for me?' "I'll move out my stuff when we get back. I won't be staying at your apartment anymore." His hand froze, then his face darkened. "Lydia, stop this." That evening, he called my parents over. My mother walked in and immediately fixed me with a stern look. "What's wrong now? Everything's fine. Why are you talking about breaking up? What makes you think you're good enough for Arthur in the first place? Your sister is so accomplished. If Irene weren't so focused on painting, do you think you'd even have a chance?" My temples throbbed. I'd heard all of it too many times. I was stupid. I was ordinary. I wasn't as good as Irene. Arthur stepped in front of me with a placating smile. "Mom, Dad, don't say that. Lydia's wonderful. Of course she's good enough for me." My mother gave him an approving look. "See? He's still defending you. How could you find another man like him? If you insist on breaking up with Arthur, don't expect us to clean up your mess." 'Yes, he's such a wonderful man. I should be so grateful.' I sniffled. "Sure." Everyone relaxed, as though a disobedient child had finally accepted her place. I went into my room and called my friend Abby Collins, who lived far away in Alderwick. Tears slid silently down my cheeks. "Abby, do you still need someone at your flower shop?" She was clearly taken aback. "Aren't you getting married next week? You really want to come here?" I looked out into the darkness and smiled. "Abby, what do you think if I run away on my wedding day next week?"