Chapter 8 - The Aftermath at the Vale House
Three days later, the family summit took place in my parents' living room.
I sat in an armchair with my arm locked in its massive abduction brace, looking like a crash-test dummy. Mom sat on the sofa, looking exhausted, her eyes rimmed with red from days of crying. Dad stood by the fireplace with his hands shoved deep into his pockets.
And Lena sat across from me on the ottoman, her arms crossed tight over a black cashmere sweater. She hadn't spoken to me since the pool incident, and judging by the venom in her glare, she viewed my existence as a personal insult.
"Caleb called off the wedding indefinitely," Mom said into the heavy silence, her voice trembling. "He checked out of the hotel yesterday morning and went to stay with his brother."
"Good!" Lena snapped, tossing her head back. "If he's going to let my psychotic sister ruin our lives over a stupid water prank, then good riddance! I don't want a husband who lacks a sense of humor anyway!"
"Lena, shut up," Dad said quietly. It wasn't a shout, but the sheer flatness of his tone made her jump.
"Dad! Why are you yelling at me? Tessa is the one who made a massive scene, screamed like she was dying, and played the victim to perfection!"
I stared at her, feeling a cold, unfamiliar detachment wash over me. For thirty-four years, I would have shrunk back, apologized for ruining the mood, and tried to find a way to make her feel better. But the pain in my shoulder—and the echo of her laughter while I choked in that pool—had burned away every last ounce of my compliance.
"You pushed me into deep water, Lena," I said, my voice unnervingly calm. "Knowing my shoulder was torn. Knowing I couldn't swim properly. And you laughed while I couldn't lift my arm."
"It was a joke!" she shrieked, tears of pure rage springing to her eyes. "You always take everything so seriously! You've been jealous of me since the day I was born!"
"Jealous?" I let out a dry, humorless laugh. "Of what, Lena? Of the fact that you can't go five minutes without needing everyone to manage your emotional wreckage? I'm not jealous. I'm just done."
"Done? What does that even mean?"
"It means," I said, leaning back into the cushions, "I'm not fixing this for you anymore. When Mom asks me to smooth things over with Caleb, I'm going to tell him the truth about how you treat people. When your friends ask why the wedding was canceled, I'm not going to lie and call it a 'medical emergency.' I'm going to tell them you pushed me into a pool for a laugh and broke my shoulder."
Lena's face drained of color. She looked around the room, desperately seeking her usual safety net. "Mom! Dad! Are you just going to let her talk to me like this? After everything I've been through?"
Mom looked down at her hands, tears spilling over her lashes. For the first time in her life, she didn't look up to tell me to keep the peace.
"She's right, Lena," Mom whispered.
Lena stared at her, horrified. "You're taking her side?"
"There are no sides here," Dad said, stepping away from the fireplace. "You crossed a line, Lena. A very dark line. And until you realize that actions have consequences that you can't just joke away, nobody is going to bail you out."
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Lena stood up so fast the ottoman tipped over onto the Persian rug. Without another word, she burst into tears, turned on her heel, and stormed out of the house, slamming the front door hard enough to rattle the picture frames on the wall.
The silence that followed was heavy, but beneath it, for the first time in my life, there was peace.
