Elle watched the scenery flash by from the back seat of her taxi. She’d picked up her bags from Murphy House without seeing Theo. (Okay, yes, she avoided her friend on purpose.) Elle had made sure to text Theo the night before to let her know she was okay and texted her again once she had her bags. But she didn’t want to see her friend.

She couldn’t stop replaying her last moments with Justin. Over and over until she was sick of it. By the time her taxi pulled up to the house her parents’ had rented, she was miserable. Which was exactly how her mother found her when she opened the door.

“Where’s Carter?” Caroline demanded.

Elle scrambled for an excuse. “He’s late,” she said. “Besides, he doesn’t need to be here for the fitting. It’s just the girls, right?”

Her mother made an unimpressed noise but ushered Elle into the house.

"You look like you've gotten too much sun,” she said. “And what happened to your hair? I hope Carter didn’t see you like that.” Her mother’s dark hair was in a tidy, shining bob. She wore a tailored sheath dress, pearls, and kitten heels. Her makeup was impeccable, as always.

Elle stepped inside and pulled her bag after her.

"I've been out in the sun, Mother. And I was running too late to do my hair this morning.“ Usually, Elle would have lied or changed the subject. Today, she couldn't bring herself to care. "Where's Daddy?”

"Your father is in the back. He’s adopted a room he’s calling, ‘the study,’ strange man. But you don't have time to chit-chat. We have fittings and the brunch today. Don't tell me you've forgotten."

She rushed Elle toward the staircase then led her to a room. “Get your face on,” Caroline said, eyeing Elle’s un-made skin. “Then come find me.” She checked her watch. “And don’t dawdle.”

Elle closed the door once her mother left, dropped her bags and fell onto her bed. After a few deep breaths, she got up and swiped on some mascara and lip gloss. It would have to do.

She slipped downstairs to find her father. He sat in a leather armchair before a wall of windows that overlooked a tidy backyard, reading the paper with a steaming mug of coffee at his side. Although it wasn’t the home she’d grown up in, it could have been, and the familiar tableau made her smile.

"Daddy,” she said.

He glanced up from his paper, his smile broad. Her father was a solid man. Clean-shaven and sporty-looking in his khakis and polo shirt. He’d relaxed from his suit-wearing days, but still looked polished thanks to Caroline’s hawk-like attention.

”I hoped you would come see me,” he said. He put down his paper and stood, opening his arms for a hug.

Elle returned his embrace, feeling warm and welcome and … home. Her father was the complete opposite of her mother. He was kind, generous with his time and affection, and always withheld judgment of others. One of the things he told her time and again while she was growing up was, "what's on the inside matters most." To a girl with a gorgeous sister and a mother who liked to point out her flaws, those words were lifelines.

How had she forgotten?

"I love you," she said.

He chuckled. "Where did that come from?"

They settled into armchairs and Elle shared her recent misadventures with him. She hadn't intended to tell him everything, but whereas it had been easy to lie to her mother about Carter, lying to her father seemed wrong. He listened without interrupting, only pausing to pour more coffee—both for himself and for Elle. From time to time he made an "hmm" noise or chuckled.

She kept a few things to herself. Last night, for one. And that morning in the shower … Even thinking about it made her blush. He didn’t need to hear about those parts, but she knew she’d be thinking about those moments for a long time to come.

When she finished, she sat back, waiting for her father's opinion. He took a thoughtful sip of his coffee.

“Well you’ve had an eventful week,” he said after another sip. “I’m glad you got rid of the Carter fellow. Sounds like you dodged a bullet there. But tell me more about this Justin fellow—” Before he could say more, Caroline burst into the room.

"There you are," she said. "Honestly, Elle. I told you everything we needed to do today. What is wrong with you? Heaven help me, my daughters will drive me to an early grave.”

Elle stood. She set aside her coffee, sharing a look with her father. "Got to go," she said to him.

"We'll talk more later," he said.

Then her mother dragged Elle from the study, talking about fittings and mimosas, and how Lucy needed everything to be perfect for her big day.

* * *

Elle survived her fitting and was grateful when the dress—if a bit tight—at least went over her carb-loving body. She had to laugh when she remembered Justin's thoughts about carbs. Then she remembered their argument and felt horrible all over again.

She took off the dress and put back on her own clothes before leaving the dressing room. The last thing Elle wanted was to parade around before Lucy and her friends in the dress. She wasn’t up for hearing what they had to say.

"Elle,” a familiar voice called. “You made it.”

Elle’s sister walked toward her, looking perfectly put together in a simple sundress. “Lucy,” she said in the same formal tone.

Even without their mother around, Elle struggled to relax around her sister. Lucy was just so … perfect. She seemed like Caroline’s daughter through-and-through, and although Elle would have loved to have a closer relationship with her sister, she had no idea how to make it happen.

Lucy showed Elle around the dressing rooms while the other women finished with their fittings. The upscale shop was decorated in heavy silk drapes and chandeliers, complete with chaises and small tables graced with bright flower arrangements and trays crowded with glasses of champagne.

Lucy's friends—including the wretched Becky Lee—flocked into the main dressing room like a group of brightly plumed birds. Elle slipped away for her second fitting—for the dress she’d wear to the rehearsal dinner. She stepped out of the private dressing room to show her sister.

“It looks perfect,” Lucy said. “Especially with your curves.”

Elle expected the bridesmaids to laugh cattily. Instead, one spoke up, “I would die for your figure! What’s your secret?”

Elle didn’t recognize the woman—a petite brunette with corkscrew curls and dimples—but when the woman smiled, it was genuine.

“I ate a lot of croissants last week. I think it helped.”

A few of the women laughed. Becky Lee, Elle noticed, did not.

“Elle, this is Veronica,” Lucy said, introducing the petite woman. She went through all the women, and Elle was surprised to see friendly, welcoming smiles. Except for Becky Lee, whose smile was as sharp as her manicure.

“I’m going to steal my sister away for a moment,” Lucy said after the introductions. “Champagne is here, ladies! Dive in.”

While the other women moved to satin-draped tables bearing glasses of champagne and bowls of chocolates, Lucy pulled Elle aside.

“I am so glad you’re here,” Lucy said once they were alone. She paused, seeming, for once, uncertain about how to proceed.

“Is everything okay?” Elle asked. Immediately she felt guilty for not being a better sister. She could only imagine the stress Lucy was under—the first Dupre girl’s wedding? Heaven help her.

Lucy gave her a grateful look. “No, actually,” she said. “Mom’s been driving me insane. Can you believe all of the events she’s lined up? Please tell me you’re going to everything this week. I know you had to miss the shower, and I totally get it—you’re so busy with work—but I would just … really love you to be there.” She bit her lip. Then she added, “I really hoped that you being my Maid of Honor would bring us closer together. Silly, right?”

Elle struggled to catch up. She loved her sister. From far, far away. They didn’t text more than quick messages or talk on the phone, and Elle had thought Lucy wanted it that way. She figured Lucy had asked her to be the Maid of Honor because it was tradition, not because it was important to her.

Now, Elle realized that might have been an oversight.

“That’s not silly,” she said. “Not at all. Did you really want me to be at your shower?”

“Of course!” Lucy said. “Are you kidding me? I had to sit through hours of sex advice from Aunt Sissy. Dear Lord, that woman has some terrifying things to say about bondage. And Mom kept pulling me aside to say things about how it should have been your wedding shower, and how inconsiderate it was of me to get married before my older sister. Honestly, she’s been acting like this is any old event. Like Smith and I thought it would be fun to spend thousands of dollars just because. And there I go being crass enough to do it before you get married.”

Elle opened and closed her mouth. “Mom said that all that to you?” She put up a hand. “Wait a minute. Don’t answer that. Back up. Mom told me you didn’t want me at the shower.”

“What? No!” Lucy looked truly surprised. And more than a little offended. “Of course I wanted you there. I asked you to be my Maid of Honor, didn’t I?”

Elle felt like a complete idiot. Why had she believed her mother? Why hadn’t she checked to make sure?

“I’m so sorry,” Elle said. “I will absolutely be around to save you from Aunt Sissy. God, are you doing okay? I should have made time to meet up with you last week. I just thought …” Shame made her trail off. She’d been avoiding her sister’s texts, and Lucy had only wanted to see her. Elle made a mental promise to make it up to her sister.

“No, no. Don’t worry. You’ve been with Carter, right? Mom told me all about him. Sounds like a catch. How’s that going?”

Elle laughed. “He slept with someone else.”

“That dog!”

“On our flight to Asheville.”

Lucy shouted a word not fit for the shop, with its rose-colored everything. The bridesmaids glanced over, but Lucy didn’t seem to care.

“Veronica, sugar,” Lucy called across the room. “Bring us two glasses of champagne, would you?”

Veronica looked curious, but happily delivered full glasses of bubbly. She leaned in before leaving and said, “I’d have his balls.”

Elle believed her.

“Thank you for that,” Lucy said.

Veronica nodded and moved back to the other women.

Lucy turned back to Elle. “I am so sorry. I can’t even imagine … If Smith even thought of cheating on me, I’d knock him into next week. How are you holding up?”

Elle lifted one shoulder. “Honestly, I’m okay. Better than okay. Don’t get me wrong. I was madder than hell, but I’m glad it happened. We weren’t good together. And … I took some time to myself at an inn.”

“You mentioned that,” Lucy said. “Oak Bramble, right? I think we might have looked at it when we were picking a venue. They had the most amazing chef if it’s the right place.”

“Yes, that’s the one.”

“Well, it sounds like the perfect place to lick your wounds.”

“So you won’t be mad if I don’t have a date to the wedding?”

Lucy shook her head. “You’ve been talking to Mom too much. Smith and I have more than enough on our plates without caring about whether or not you have a date. You’re walking down the aisle with one of his cousins, anyway.”

“Lucy, have you always been this wonderful?”

Lucy threw back her head and laughed. “Pretty much. You and Mom were just too tight to notice little ol’ me.”

“What? No! It was the other way around.”

“Are you serious?” Lucy studied Elle as if looking for the joke. “You really thought that,” she mused. Lucy tilted her head. “Well isn’t that funny. The two of us at odds for our whole lives. And it was all in our heads. A little bit of crazy must be in our gene pool.”

“Well, of course there is,” Elle said. “Just look at our mother.”

They laughed, clinked their champagne flutes, and took long sips.

“Do you think we could start over?” Elle asked. “I would love to get to know my baby sister better.” She knew they couldn’t change their relationship overnight. But the idea of getting to know the woman her sister had become filled Elle with a fizzy feeling no amount of champagne could match.

“That would be nice,” Lucy said. She sniffed. “God, I’m the queen of waterworks this week.”

Elle smiled. “Now tell me everything. Are you ready to get married? How’s that handsome fiancé of yours holding up?”

“Don’t even get me started. You wouldn’t believe what Smith said to me the other night …”