She's not mine | 𝔍𝔢𝔫𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔞

Chapter 18

Jennie

Rosè hangs Irene's wedding dress on the wardrobe door in the bridal room and smiles at it. "You're going to look beautiful in this."

I shake my head and start to pace. "No. She'll be here any minute now. There's no way she'll let Lisa marry someone else — especially not me."

My best friend stares at me, her expression annoyed.

"I don't get it," she tells me. "You've been in love with Lisa all your life. Why would you want Irene to show up?"

I pause and look up at her, my heart sinking.

"Because she's always been hers, Rosè. Even if she marries me, the one she wants will always be Irene. It's hard enough to watch her love her the way she does, but legally being able to call her mine while I know that her heart will always belong to Irene? That would kill me, Chae. I'd much rather stay friends with her than be the person standing between her and the woman she truly loves. I don't want to be a replacement, a reminder of Irene. If we get married now, I'll never be able to step out of Irene's shadow. I'll always be a cheap replica of her, a stand-in."

Rosè shakes her head, her expression thoughtful.

"I've always found it so odd, you know? It never made sense to me that someone that shines the way you do feels like they're cast in shadows. She's like the moon, Jennie. Beautiful on a lonely night, but cold and distant. You? You're the sun. You're warmth and happiness, and the centre of all that's good. Similarly, Lisa's world will revolve around you if you give her a chance. I know my sister, babe. If you give this marriage an honest chance, she'll make you happy. I've always said this, and I'll say it again: there's always been something between Lisa and you. Now you can both finally give into it, and it'll be the best thing you'll ever do."

I run a hand through my hair and shake my head. "Chaeyoung," I warned. "Today is not the day for your little pep talks and your romantic heart."

She merely smiles at me and grabs my hand, leading me to the vanity that's been set up for Irene. "You'll see," she tells me. "This is the start of something new. She'll fall for you, and when she does, I'll tell you I told you so."

A knock sounds at my door, and I look up sharply when my favorite makeup artist walks in with three girls in tow. "What are you doing here, Enrique?"

He smiles at me before lifting his gaze to nod at Rosè. "Leave everything to me," he tells her as she places her hands on my shoulders. She squeezes tightly before stepping away, and my gaze follows her through the room. What has she done? She can't truly believe I'll be walking down that aisle, can she?

I watch through the mirror as Rosè leisurely steams Irene's dress, a smile on her face. Today, more than ever, it's clear just how crazy my bestie is. She should be concerned about Lisa and me, but she's barely stopped smiling all morning.

Enrique starts working on my makeup while a hairdresser starts to work on my hair, and nerves finally truly set in. This can't be happening, can it?

I grab my phone and try to ring Irene again, for the fifty-seventh time today. Irene disappeared after I left her apartment, and last I heard she'd been spotted on a beach in St. Tropez. I really hope she realized what she did and came to her senses in time. If she doesn't get here within the next hour, she'll make a mistake she can never undo.

"You look beautiful," Enrique tells me as he puts the finishing touches on my makeup. He done my makeup for every single gala and awards ceremony throughout the last few years, but he's outdone himself today.

For one single moment, I wonder what Lisa will think when she sees me, but then I shake my head and mentally berate myself for the thought. Today must be a torment for her. Until the moment she sees me at the end of the aisle, she'll be expecting Irene.

It isn't a wonder she'll look at me with. It'll be disappointment and resentment.

I sit up at the sound of a knock on my door, my heart dropping. The door opens, and my mother walks in. I look at her wide-eyed, and she hesitates for a moment before shaking her head.

My shoulders deflate as treacherous relief sinks in.

Irene isn't here.

"I'm sorry," Mom says. She glances at Enrique and his crew before pressing her lips together for a moment. "I'm sorry your sister won't be here on such a special day. I'm not sure what's gotten into her, and I hope she won't come to regret this."

"Me too," I murmur. What happens once she realizes she's made a mistake? What if she goes after Lisa and begs her for forgiveness? Her promise to me is nothing compared to the hundreds of promises they must have made to each other throughout the years. Am I condemning myself by agreeing to this?

Mom walks up to Rosè, and together they hold up Irene's wedding dress for me, helping me into it carefully. I designed this for her, so it doesn't fit perfectly, but it's not far off. This isn't what I would've created for myself, and it's yet another reminder that I'm merely taking Irene's place. Everything I'm experiencing today should've been hers, and it sickens me.

"You look gorgeous," Mom says, but she can't quite make herself look me in the eye. "Thank you, sweetheart," she whispers. "I know this isn't easy for you. I'm sorry that it's come to this, but perhaps it is fate, you know? Initially, Lisa's fiancee was supposed to be you. Maybe Grandma Anne was right, and this will all work out for the best."

I look at her and clench my jaw. "Is that what you tell yourself to justify the position you've put me in? Is that what you've convinced yourself of to ease your guilty conscience?"

Mom winces and looks down, drawing a shaky breath. "Jennie," she whispers. "I... I truly am sorry. If Dad and I hadn't spoiled your sister the way we have, this wouldn't have happened. I wish... I wish I'd treated you better. I wish I hadn't taken you for granted. If I hadn't, then perhaps this moment between us would've been different. It wouldn't diminish your sacrifice in any way, but perhaps I'd have known how to console you, how to encourage you."

I frown at her, confused. Mom has never so much as given me any indication that she was aware of the favoritism, the way she and Dad both ostracized me.

She cups my cheek and nods. "I knew," she tells me.

"Of course I knew how you felt. It's just that Dad and I felt so guilty toward your sister. She was so sick as a child that she spent years at home, missing school and opportunities to make friends, to just be a kid. I'm sorry, Jennie. Perhaps my words mean nothing to you, but I wanted to say it nonetheless. Today, more so than usual, the distance between us pains me. I wish you and I could have been like any mother and daughter the morning before the wedding. I wish that, despite the circumstances, I could've been the one you turn to. My eyes are open now, Jennie. I see what I've done, what my actions have turned your sister into."

My eyes fill with tears that I blink away rapidly, and I nod briefly, unsure of what to say. Out of everything I expected my mother to say today, this wasn't it.

Mom grabs my shoulders and smiles at me. "Come on," she says. "Dad is waiting for you just outside the door."

I nod and follow her out, my heart uneasy. Once I walk down that aisle, there's no going back. I pray with all my heart that I don't come to regret this.

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