Torn Between Sisters

Hell No

Here's a revised version of your story that enhances the emotions and flow:

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**The happiest moment is when you find the courage to let go of something you can't change.**

**Blake POV**

I scanned the room, searching for my cousin. She was supposed to be here by now.

"Amara!" I called out, and then I looked up the steps. There she was—an exquisite vision descending gracefully, drawing everyone's gaze as if she were the bride.

"Anthony, I'd like you to meet my sister, Amara. Amara, this is my fiancé, Anthony."

"Nice to meet you," we said in unison, our hands meeting in a brief shake.

"The pleasure is all mine," I replied, holding her gaze a moment too long, tempted to kiss her hand. Why couldn't I be marrying her instead?

"Have we met before?" I asked, searching my memory. She looked strikingly familiar.

"No, we haven't. I'm just getting to know you," she said, her tone polite yet distant. Then, with a soft smile, she walked away. A wave of regret washed over me. Had I said something wrong? I felt an urge to follow her, to understand that fleeting connection.

"Anthony, you have to excuse my sister; she's a little shy. I'm going to check on her."

"Anthony, baby," Halze said, her hands gliding down my chest.

I quickly stopped her. "Halze, stop this. It's not the time or place." I pulled her into a room; she was too drunk to be out here. As I closed the door, she banged on it, shouting, "Anthony, let me out!" Thankfully, the music was loud enough that no one heard her. I'd have to deal with her another day.

An hour into the engagement party, my patience was wearing thin. Tiara clung to my side like glue, despite my attempts to gently push her away. I hadn't seen Amara since our brief encounter.

"Tiara, I'm going home. I have business to handle." I kissed her forehead, aware of the guests watching and the paparazzi taking pictures.

Here's a revised version that emphasizes Tiara's jealousy toward Amara:

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"I'll come with you and keep you company," Tiara said, her hands sliding down my chest.

"There's no need," I replied, walking away before she could protest.

As I made my way out, I bumped into someone—it was Amara. I instinctively wrapped my arm around her waist to steady her, and for a moment, we were lost in each other's gaze until flashes from the cameras broke the spell. She quickly pulled away, avoiding my eyes. "I'm sorry; I should have looked where I was going," she said, still not meeting my gaze.

Before I could respond, Tiara's voice cut through the moment. "Amara, I've been looking everywhere for you. Where have you been?" Her tone dripped with irritation, a clear challenge to Amara's presence.

"I was just getting some fresh air. I didn't realize I needed your permission," Amara shot back, her own anger flaring.

Before their argument could escalate, their mother stepped in, sensing the tension in the air.

"Girls, this is not the time or place, Amara. You know better," Tiara scolded.

"It's time for the dance. Come on," said Natasha, the older sister.

"I have business to handle," I replied, turning to walk away. But then I heard Amara's angelic voice. "At least one dance before you go. What's the harm?" She smiled for the first time that night, and I couldn't resist. I walked back toward them, and Tiara eagerly took my hands, as if I had chosen her.

As we swayed to "Thinking Out Loud," Tiara laid her head on my chest. "You know, I've always dreamed about this moment, and now it's finally happening," she said, tears glistening in her eyes. I wiped them away, sensing her drama.

"I'm just happy I'm marrying someone I love," she continued. Love? We had just met—how could she feel that way?

Then the song changed, and we exchanged partners. Alexander took Tiara, and I found myself dancing with Amara. Just having her close felt right. As "You Are the Reason" began to play, the warmth between us deepened, and I felt a connection that went beyond words.

Amara POV

Here's a revised version that emphasizes Tiara's jealousy:

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This had to be the worst day of my life. Blake held onto my waist, and I fought every urge to look into his eyes. I reminded myself: he's not mine anymore.

"Look at me, Amara," he said, his tone familiar, the one he always used when I avoided his gaze. I wanted to cry on his chest, to tell him everything. But then I remembered his words. I had to be strong—for myself, my family, and for him.

"Why won't you look at me?" He lifted my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze, but I turned away, my heart heavy.

Then our song came on. This was just not my day.

"Let's just dance," I pleaded, desperate to pretend it was only us in the room. I stared at his lips, then back to his eyes. He was looking at me, at my lips, and we hovered on the edge of giving in. Just as we were about to lean in, the music stopped.

Before I could catch my breath, Tiara yanked my hand away from him. "Amara, I made a decision! I want you to be my maid of honor!" she squealed, her excitement cutting through the moment like a knife. All my energy drained as her words echoed in my mind, over and over, mixing with the ache of what could have been. I felt a wave of frustration and jealousy wash over me, knowing she was oblivious to the tension that still hung in the air between Blake and me.

Authors Notes

This is the end of Hell no

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Next chapter A day with Blake