Gray downed the rest of his amber drink, slammed it on a server’s tray so hard she stumbled, and left. I looked for Story in his absence, but she’d disappeared again.
I focused back on Gemma. The fountain glowed on her skin; she was luminous. Her white dress caught the breeze. My mother laughed at something she said. Everyone watched her, transfixed. Horace, Horace’s bodyguard, men lingering on the side, the women.
Theo.
It didn’t look like he was trying too hard to get anything out of a fucking tree.
She was pure, perfect. She’d had a fiancé since we were teenagers, but it wasn’t like my engagement to a man I’ve never met. It wasn’t rushed, forced, and ugly. They were everything you thought when you imagined elite marriages. Aristocratic. Beautiful. Destined.
At least… that’s what it looked like from the outside and isn’t that all that mattered?
Maybe I was what they called me. Imperfect. Dirty. Vile.
Maybe I could get some of it on them.
I watched, waiting until Horace left the group. I intercepted him before he reached the buffet.
“Abigail?”
I touched his shoulder. “Has anyone shown you the maze?”
Eight
ABIGAIL
I didn’t like the way he kissed.
I didn’t like his hands on my hips.
I didn’t like any of it.
I thought it would make me feel whole, better, special. Instead I was emptier than before we’d started. He didn’t bother asking if he could put his hands between my thighs. I didn’t bother telling him to stop.
I don’t know how long we were like that, him kissing and me waiting for something to change. All I know is when I saw him, when Theo found me, a part of me came alive.
I started moaning. Real porn star stuff. I grabbed Horace’s hair, pulling him to my neck. It was greasy with too much product. I jerked his head to the side so I could lock eyes with Theo.
Theo was a shadow in the night, looming, taking up almost all the light. I wanted him to come and grab Horace off me. Fling him by the collar to the ground. He just watched. A muscle in his jaw twerked. Clenched. Making his cheekbones that much hollower.
Horace’s lips roamed my neck. I couldn’t pretend anymore. I couldn’t even move. I was sucked into Theo. When I totally froze, Theo’s lip twitched. Not quite a smile, but the arrogance in his eyes flamed.
I wanted to kiss harder at the arrogance, but I couldn’t.
“Horace?” Gemma’s husky voice called out, her white chiffon dress following after, a fairy among the dark leaves. She stopped next to Theo, spotting us.
Horace jumped off me like I was on fire, running to my sister’s side as if he hadn’t just been climbing up my thigh and moaning my name. I was alone on the sand, surrounded by the looming hedges of the maze, shimmering black-green in the night.
“Oh, hey Gemma.” I stood up, brushing off invisible grains of sand. Inside, my chest was on fire. They were both by her side, again. In the dark, someone might call out my name, but in the light, everyone always chose her.
Gemma folded long, lean arms, tilting her head so rose gold hair fell down one side.
“You didn’t used to be this awful,” she said. “Remember the late nights? The pictures we used to take together?” At the mention of the pictures, my grip involuntarily tightened. Pictures that had once been the only evidence of any affection in my relationship with my sister were now concrete proof I was unlovable.
“We’ve always been competitive,” Gemma continued. “But you weren’t so vile.”
“You stole him!” I screamed. “You stole the only thing that was ever mine.”
The words fell out of me, having been caged inside with a broken lock. I was never any good at keeping my cool like Gemma. I knew I gave up too much, and I prayed Theo didn’t put two and two together.