My heart is beating so hard, I’m afraid it’s going to explode. Not burst. Explode. But I’d rather die than tamp back any of the anger and hurt that are running in my veins.

I never fathomed this kind of rage was possible. I feel transformed by, possessed by it and I don’t care who gets trampled.

I reach the door of the library and the sound of angry voices reverberates from the other side of it. Without pausing, I yank the door open and step inside. All talking comes to a complete stop. My parents and sister turn to look at me. It seems they’ve aged ten years in a minutes since they left the room. My father is crying. My mother’s face is pale and drawn and Freya looks terrified. Her face pale, her hair disheveled and her eyes swollen and red with tears. What a contrast between fierce righteousness she’d warn a few minutes ago.

She’d brandished Lilly’s phone like sword. She’d struck out with it with delighted vengeance. Her attack had hit its target with staggering precision and she’d left total carnage in her wake.

I only stare at her. She stares back. Slowly, her eyes widen in surprise when she find herself unable to understand what my eyes are saying.

There has never been a time that we couldn’t communicate with each other this way. But Freya’s sword hadn’t just sliced Lilly in half, cutting her open and spilling her insides out while her entire family watched. She’d also severed that cord. The one that we have shared since we were embryos in our mother’s womb.

“How could you?” My hands shake and I have to grab the chair in front of me to steady myself. I don’t understand any of this.

She only whimpers in response and looks down at her hands.

“Harry...” My mother speaks, slowly, warning me. I take my eyes from Freya and look at her.

“This is between me and my sister. No one else.”

“Harry, Freya knows what she did was wrong. She didn’t realize—”

“Realize what?” My roar stops my mother’s sentence. Her crystalline blue eyes widen, her winged dark blonde brows disappear under the heavy fringe of her bangs.

“Harry, please.” My father says, wearily and I’m nearly tempted to stop. For his sake. He hasn’t said a word, but I know he’s sick. I don’t know why he’s keeping it from us, and why no one talks about how much weight he’s lost. But, can’t stop. Not even for him,

“Dad. I love you and Mum. But this is between Freya and me.”

He nods, closes his eyes and then stands up. He walks to my mother, takes her hand and without uttering a word, leads her out of the room.

I watch Freya, not taking my eyes off her. She doesn’t look at me again. Instead she watches my parents retreating back until she hears soft click of the door closing behind her.

“Tell me. Why?” I say simply.

“Harry, I didn’t know…” she wails, her eyes still on the floor. Her hands clutched her in lap, fingers laced together and clenching each other so tightly, her knuckles are bloodless.

“Of course, you didn’t know. How could you have known by looking at pictures and talking to Camille? But you decided you’d act like you knew so you could humiliate a woman you don’t like. Right?” I bark at her,

She nods, her breathing is fast and shallow. She’s crying again. It just pisses me off.

“I don’t understand why you’re crying. Are you the injured party? You did what you set out to do…” I turn away from her and pace the room.

“I’ve never known you to be cruel. But what I saw tonight, Freya, I wouldn’t have done that to my most loathed enemy. In front of her fucking family.” I hear the strain in my voice. My pain is a living, breathing thing.

“I would have never, Freya, not in a millions believed you capable of that. If I hadn't been there and someone told me the story I wouldn’t have believed it. You wouldn’t…no couldn’t, do something so unspeakably wrong.” I say, my disappointment growing by the second.

Freya looks at me then, her eyes awash with tears, but the fear is replaced by hurt.

“Harry, I knew about Zara and William.” She says. Her confession is just an octave above audible. Yet, my body jerks as if she spoke with with cymbals and spears instead of words.

“I knew and I didn’t tell you. Had never planned to tell you.”

I stagger backwards until the backs of my calves hit the couch and fall backwards on to it.

“You knew?” I ask in an exhaled breath. The wind completely knocked out of my sails.

“Yes.” She says simply, her anguish plain but her voice controlled. “I didn’t say anything because…” her chin wobbles slightly and she pauses. “I’m also married to a man I don’t love. Who doesn’t love me. And I’m also having an affair with the man I should have married and who is the love of my life. I empathized with Zara. How could I judge her, expose her without exposing myself?” She asks and I lean forward, put my head in my hands and try to absorb what she’s saying and what it means.

“I’m your fucking brother.” The last word comes out as a scream. My anger burns white hot.

I put my face in my hands as fear grips me. Freya is the person I’ve always loved more than anyone. The one who I’ve shared everything with. The one who I would lay my life down for with pausing to think about it. And she was prepared to participate in Zara’s fraudulent game, she’d done it because she was also a cheating, liar who didn’t want to reckon with what she’d done. Can I trust anyone? Is this how people live? Telling each other lies? Keeping inconvenient truths to themselves?

Slowly, I bring my eyes up and force myself to look at her. I study her face like I’m seeing it for the first time. How could I have misjudged her so completely?

“Who are you?” I ask angrily, but also with genuine curiosity. I stare at my twin, for the first time not unable to understand her. When she doesn’t respond, I go on.

“You decided that I shouldn’t know that my future wife was fucking my best friend because you’re cheating on your husband and didn’t want to judge?” The full force of my disgust, incredulity, hurt, wrath leaves my body with those words and I see the moment the enormity of her betrayal registers. I’m grateful my parents aren’t here. It would kill them see this. Unless of course, they knew too.

“Harry. It wasn’t that simple. You know what it’s like amongst our set. No one marries just because. It’s always strategic. And sometimes, if you’re lucky, it turns out to be a marriage that bears more fruit than heirs.” She says, sadly, but as if what she’s saying makes sense and that somehow it explains her betrayal.

“You’re pathetic. That is pathetic.” My throat is clogged with what feels like every ugly emotion in the universe, rendering my voice hoarse.

She looks at me now, for the first time and her eyes are wide. The fear has returned. She knows she’s gone too far. That a simple apology, a promise to never do it again won’t be enough. Not now.

“Do you think that if I’d known George was cheating on you, no less with your best friend that I wouldn’t have told you? Do you think that I would have stood there, watched you marry him, toasted you if I had known?” I demand, closing the gap between us, standing right in front of her. She flinches, several times while I’m talking as if I’m striking her.

“Tell me.” I growl out when she doesn’t respond.

“Fuck you, Harry.” Her sudden, angry outburst catches me off guard and when she surges to feet in front of my, it forces me to take a step back. “How would you have known anything? You never paid attention. You never cared. You never asked me how I was feeling. You are so goddamn self-absorbed and self-righteous about truth and honor and all of your other virtues” She’s seething with anger. “You couldn’t see the truth staring you in the face, and you seemed to like it that way.” Her anger pours out of her eyes as she glares at me. Her jaw is clenched but her words fly out of her mouth as if propelled by a slingshot.

“Yes, this all my fault for not realizing that my sister was a viper who would happily sell me out if it meant she could continue keeping up appearances.”

“I’m sorry Harry.” The desperate plea in her voice only angers me further. Those two words have never felt more inadequate as they do right now. I step around her and sit down in the chair she just vacated. I’m exhausted, completed depleted of energy. I feel numb.

She doesn’t turn to face me. Instead, walks to the brass and glass drink cart “I didn’t think you’d cared about Zara and Will. I didn’t think you’d ever find out because the only thing you actually pay attention to is the estate. You don’t think about anything else.” Her finger cut the air as she gesticulates wildly. Zara wanted to fall in love. But not as much as she wanted to marry well. We all do. We all need to. This life is all we know and preserving it is important. Not just for us, but for the generations to come.”

She pauses and I feel her looking at me. I can’t meet her eyes.

“We’re all human. We all need love, affection, attention.” She says, the scorn back in her voice. “George cheats on me. Constantly. He always has.”

My eyes come to her then. She’s hunched over, her hands wrapped around her waist, her head hanging low. She looks broken and there’s flicker of pain in my own chest as I watch her rock back and forth. But I don’t respond. I’ve always thought George was an asshole. He inherited an estate from his uncle that was barely able maintain any of its livings. The money that Freya brought to the marriage allowed him to pay off all of its debts and sell it.

“I didn’t know he was unfaithful, but I could see that he wasn’t focused on your happiness as much as he was on his own.” I say.

There is a hollowness, an iciness that I’d never heard in her voice before. “I loved him.”

She turns around to face me and her expression is grim. “I loved him so much, Harry. I knew he wanted my money, but I also thought he wanted me. When I realized I would never be enough, when he told me he’d never let me divorce him, I sought out my own happiness. Then, I found that it’s what everyone did. And so when I heard about Zara and William, I was shocked at how angry I was. But I felt like a hypocrite. And Harry,” She rushes toward me, kneeling down and grasping my hands. “I didn’t think you’d care.” The last word is a wail and I try to free my hands. She only clings tighter “I could see you didn’t love Zara. I could see you were just going through the motions with her and thought if you knew it might hurt you, but that you would still marry her. But when she died, and you were so heartbroken, so angry, I knew I’d been wrong. But I didn’t know how to tell you that I’d known. I’m just so sorry.” Her tears are flowing freely. Her nose red and running, her eyes closed in anguish as she sobs at my feet.

I’m angrier than I could have imagined I could ever be at my twin. But seeing her like this, tempers some of my anger. I pull her off her knees and bring us both to standing. I wrap my arms around her and hold her against me as she sobs. After a minute, she pulls in a shuddering breath and steps out of my hold. I’m relieved for the distance because we still need to talk about what happened tonight.

“Camille came to my house today. She’d found Lilly’s phone —”

“Where did she find it?” I demand. Her eyes come to me and widen just slightly, before she looks away, “I didn’t… ask.” She says.

“You were just so excited by the dirt she handed you that you thought, “Details be damned.”

She lifts her chin, the first sign of defensiveness she’s shown. “I just wanted to get here as fast I could. Harry. She’s lied so much.” She says, her disdain for Lilly back and my spine straightens. Her eyes widen when I narrow mine at her, a warning.

“But, Harry.” Her voice is high pitched when she says “She had a baby and she didn’t tell anyone. She didn’t tell you.”

I gape at her, the callousness she’s exhibiting completely blindsiding me.

“She was raped. She gave the baby up for adoption. She’s fucking grieving, Freya.” I shout. “You couldn’t even tell me that my fiancé was fucking my best friend.” She looks down at her shoes. “Tell me. Would you have found the courage to tell anyone if what happened to her, happened to you?”

She starts to respond right away and I stop her.

“You need to be very, very careful. Think before you speak because if you insult Lilly, if you even say her name in a tone I don’t like, I’ll stop listening.” I warn her. My voice low and shot with steel.

She looks at me and this time, it’s horror and realization that leech the color from her face. Her hand comes up to her mouth and she covers them in shock. We stare at each other a little before she puts her hands down.

“You love her.” She, her eyes wide with wonder and regret.

“Yes, I love her. Very much.” This is the first time I’ve even considered that love was what I was feeling for Lilly. My brain and my heart aren’t on the best of terms with each other.

I’ve nurtured my brain, my thoughts and education - but at the expense of my heart. I’ve been thinking of Lilly academically. That she’s beautiful, has a great sense of humor, is very brilliant and in so many ways is incapable of being dishonest. I know it sounds crazy to say that, after all of the ways she’s intentionally mislead me. But, those were acts of self-defense. I know that now. But her first instinct is always the most honest one. Lying, pretending, those things have a taken on a toll on her. It’s not who she is. I know that and I have for a long time.

But now I’m struck with the realization that I hadn’t let myself think of the way she makes me feel. How thinking at all, when she’s near me, is impossible. That every time her name crosses mine, my fucking heart gives a little jump for joy. Even in the months we spent apart. When I was trying hard to make myself hate and forget her.

Every time I thought about her, my heart skipped a beat and for a full second, I felt this amazing, unadulterated pang of joy. But that was quickly crushed by my mind taking over and telling me that she was a liar and I was better off not knowing how to reach her. I told Freya nothing but terrible things about Lilly. That she was rude, that she was reckless and didn’t take her malaria tablets. That she was selfish and ditched her cousin to spend time with me instead. Clearly, she was also disloyal, I’d said. None of it had worked.

My heart wouldn’t have let my brain win. And that even if she hadn’t come to this wedding and presented me with the most amazing, undeserved second chance in the history of second chances, I would have eventually gotten my head out of my ass and gone looking for her. Even if I had to walk door to door in Miami, I would have found her again. Because she’s my “once in a lifetime” person. The one that, if you’re brave enough, good enough and have a little luck on your side when your paths cross, you might just get to keep. I hadn’t known that she was love’s version of a moonshot until she was gone.

She’s made me want more from life than I thought I could have and she made everything more colorful and interesting. And to top it all off, she’s a bombshell whose magical pussy feels like its lined with ecstasy.

Making love to her is spectacular. When I’m inside of her and she’s clinging to me like letting go meant she’d fall off the edge of the earth I feel like the luckiest man in the world.

My brain has finally caught up with my heart. So, when I’m asked if I love her, every single part of me knows the answer.

“Oh, Harry.” Freya’s voice is anguished. She is beyond consoling and she wails, “I’m so sorry. I’ve been so single minded. And miserable. I thought fixing you up with Camille would be a good thing. I mean, she’s familiar. She’s also too worried about appearances to do anything as uncouth as have an affair. I just wanted you to be with someone who couldn’t hurt you the way Zara had. And after everything you told me about Lilly. You can still have her, but Harry…you can’t marry her. She wouldn’t be accepted. You would be a laughing stock. She’s too old. Her parentage is not European, not even a little.”

With every word, I’ve felt my anger ratchet up. She clears her throat.

“Well, besides all of that, I just thought…” she trails of and then straightening her shoulders and looking me fully in the eye, she says “I thought she was going to break your heart. I didn’t like her and I could see that you were starting to fall back under her spell. The way you watched her even when Camille was sitting right to you…I just knew that I needed to find a way to stop it. I didn’t know how to. There was nothing and I’ve spent the last two weeks fretting as I’ve watched you become completely besotted. So, when Camille brought me what she found, I didn’t think before I rushed over to expose her. Oh, God. I’ll never forgive myself for what I’ve just done. I thought she had some secret baby. How could I have known what she’d been through?”

My heart stings with the memory of Lilly’s heartbreak when Freya confronted her. She’d been enraged, despondent, scared. All at once.

The first pang of fear strikes me. I walked out of the room. I was just so fucking angry at Freya and needed to confront her right away, that I hadn’t thought about what my walking out would look like. I look back at my sister, and sigh.

“What you did back there, you’ve ripped a hole in a lot of people’s lives, Freya.” I say. She hangs her head. I’m not going to sugar coat any of this for her. “You’re owe a lot of people apologies and you need to spend some time thinking about your own life. But right now, I need to get back to Lilly. Freya, I love you. I always will. But you’ve got see how what you did, what you told me about Zara, how all of that changes things between us.”

“But Harry.” She wails and starts to sob again.

“You’re my sister. I know that we don’t have a choice but to get past this. But it’s going to take some time and lots of work. And it’s going to take Lilly forgiving you, too. Because I can tell you this. If she’ll have me, I don’t care what she’s done or where she’s from - I intend to build a life with her. So, you’re going to have to get things right with her, too.” She nods, but doesn’t stop crying.

I step away, my sole desire is to get to Lilly. To be there because she needs me and to answer my own questions.

I rush back down the hall. I open the door to the living room and find it deserted. I run up the stairs and in a few minutes, I’m standing outside her door. My heart is racing, not from the dash up the stairs, but from fear. I don’t know what I’m going to if I can’t talk to her tonight.

I gather my courage and then knock.

She opens it almost immediately. Her hair is scraped up into a haphazard pile on her head. Her eyes are red rimmed and her nose red.

“Harry. Oh my God…I’m so sorry. I was going to tell you. I swear. I…”

“I’m glad to know that.” I say quietly. I don’t take my eyes from hers. I don’t know how I feel about her keeping it from me. Of course, I wish she’d told me but from what she said when everything was crazy in the living room, she hadn’t planned on telling anyone. Ever. She felt entitled to keep it to herself. She didn’t feel like it was something she owed anyone.

What I feel is pain. Knowing that she’s hurting so deeply, hurts me. That she lives with a sorrow I’ll never be able to sooth, it burns. That it was my sister who caused this new wound, is like a knife in the heart. But at least I know that this is one I can help heal. If she’ll let me.

She steps aside and says, “Come in.” I enter the sitting area of her suite and turn to face her and place my hands on her shoulders. When she doesn’t flinch or move away, I take it as a good sign.

“First, I need you to know that I’m so sorry that Freya did that. It doesn’t matter what her intentions were, it was cruel and wrong. And she knows that now.”

Her lip curls in disdain, and then she squeezes her lips together and takes a deep breath.

“Does she? Her intentions seemed very clear to me, Harry.” She says, her voice strong, without a single quaver in it. Her eyes flash with anger. I don’t blame her.

“I know. And I’m not saying anything other than, I’m sorry that she behaved in such a callous way. I’m so sorry you were hurt.” I extend my hand to cup her cheek and the words she was about to speak seem to die on her lips. Her eyes soften and glisten.

“You’re sorry I was hurt?” She smiles sadly, her beautiful golden eyes scan my entire face. As if she’s trying to memorize it. As if she’s planning on not seeing it again for a long time.

I tense.

“You’re not sorry you ever met me? You don’t think I’m a liar? You ‘re not disgusted that I hid a pregnancy from my family and then gave my daughter away? And you’re not horrified that I spend my entire life acting as if she doesn’t exist?”

Her eyes dry as she speaks, the gold that’s usually shimmering, dulls. She radiates grief. She’s already mourning what she assumes will be the end of our relationship.

“Lilly. I don’t think you’re a liar. Nothing about you horrifies or disgusts me. If I hadn’t met you, I wouldn’t have ever known the powerful connection that a person can only have with their soul mate.” I whisper.

Her face crumbles and she steps out of my reach. My palm falls from her face, but my entire hand tingles. My hand can still feel the soft press of her cheek. I look at her and say, “Lilly, I love you.”

Her entire body starts to tremble and step forward to grab her when she looks like she’s starting to sway.

As soon as I arm goes around her waist, she sags into me.

And then, in the smallest voice she says “Harry. There’s more. I have more to tell you.”