When Austin James refused to peel shrimp for me again, I calmly told him we were done.

He frowned, irritated.

"Over something this small? Nora Sullivan, you know I'm severely allergic to shrimp. I can't even touch them."

Yes. I knew.

Five years ago, when he confessed to me, he'd smiled and said,

"Nori, you're allergic to seafood too. We were made for each other."

Five years later, at Skylar Henson's welcome-home dinner.

Right in front of me, Austin peeled shrimp, one after another, without stopping.

Skylar dipped her head, shy.

"Austin, you always said you'd only ever peel shrimp for me. Now you have to do it for Nora too."

"When have I ever broken a promise to you?"

He said it lightly, flicking the shrimp meat into her bowl.

"I only got together with Nora because she's allergic to seafood."

"I've never peeled a single shrimp for her."

Open, unhidden favoritism, and he gave all of it to Skylar.

So what did I get?

I thought about it for a long time. Long enough that the tears burned against the back of my hand.

In the end I slid the engagement ring off my finger.

I didn't want Skylar's personal shrimp-peeling machine anymore.

...

When I told him it was over, Austin didn't even glance up.

His eyes never left his phone screen.

He was busy texting Skylar back.

He didn't notice when I took off the ring, either.

A voice message from Skylar pinged.

"I'm home too. So tiiired."

He caught the tiny shift in her tone and sat straight up.

"The AC in the private room was too cold tonight. You sound a little stuffed up. Don't catch a chill."

"I had some cold medicine sent to you. Take a dose before bed. Be good."

I stood there, not moving.

The ring dug into my palm until it hurt.

Skylar sent another voice message, her voice all sweet and coy.

"Aw, Austin, you're so annoying. I know, I know, just take care of Nora."

He answered without a second's pause.

"Nora isn't like you. She doesn't need anyone to take care of her."

Not like her.

I tugged at the corner of my mouth.

It meant we didn't matter the same to him.

In the end I couldn't hold it in. The words just came out.

"You're severely allergic to shrimp. So how were you able to peel shrimp for Skylar?"

He looked at me, and something flickered in his eyes.

"You're actually crying?"

He hadn't expected me to keep clinging to this.

"I carry allergy medicine on me. I took some earlier. It's worn off now."

"Skylar's the little sister I grew up with. She's from a broken home. She's starved for love, and she's sensitive."

"If I don't peel shrimp for her, she starts overthinking everything. I have to be mindful of how she feels."

I still remember the way everyone in that room looked at me.

Pity. Mockery.

Skylar's feelings mattered. Mine didn't.

He hesitated a moment, then sighed like it was all such a burden.

"There's really no reason for you to be jealous of Skylar."

"Stop crying. When you cry it's a little... dramatic. It doesn't suit you."

The last time Skylar had a breakup fight overseas, she called Austin sobbing.

He went out of his mind. He booked the earliest flight on the spot.

He threw his luggage together while soothing her over the phone.

"There, there, don't cry. Our little princess's tears are pearls. So precious."

She was the little princess. I was the dramatic one.

He didn't bother with me after that.

He pulled on his coat and headed for the door.

"I'm still worried about Skylar."

"I'll go check on her. I'll be back later. Get to bed early."

The door closed.

I stayed frozen where I stood.

Until the cat circled my feet, meowing and meowing.

Snowball was hungry.

I crouched down, stroked his head, then stood and went back to peeling shrimp.

Tonight the cat gets grilled chicken breast and shrimp.

This is the last time I'll ask Austin to peel shrimp.

He refused again.

He won't peel shrimp for me, and he won't peel it for Snowball.

He only peels shrimp for Skylar.

Fine.

My phone buzzed. A message from Dad.

"Nori, I know you don't want to move abroad for good."

"But coming to stay for a while is fine, isn't it?"

I sent back one word. Okay.

He booked me a flight a week out before I could blink, with a sticker attached.

【Daddy's precious girl is coming.jpg】

I stared at the goofy cartoon, squeezed my eyes shut, and pressed down the heat building behind them.

A week. That was enough.

Austin didn't come home all night.

The next morning, when I woke up, he was already in the kitchen cooking.

Mrs. James was over too.

She was helping out, the two of them murmuring with their heads close together.

"The Sullivan girl's parents are divorced. She seems all right now, but a child from that kind of home is bound to have something off inside. No telling how she'll turn out."

"Now Skylar, that poor thing. Her parents didn't get along either, but she grew up right under my eyes. Kind, sweet, good with people. Good through and through."

Mrs. James sighed with real regret.

"Such a shame the two of you weren't meant to be."

Skylar was the daughter-in-law she'd wanted all along.

Austin brushed it off.

"Enough, Mom. Sky's about to get married."

He didn't say a word for me.

I didn't interrupt them. I went to the living room.

Mrs. James heard me and leaned out to look.

"Oh, you're up, Nora. We'll eat soon."

"There's fruit on the table. Have some first."

On the coffee table, apple slices soaking in salt water had been cut into little rabbit shapes.

The kind Skylar liked.

Mrs. James beamed.

"I had Austin make a few extra dishes you like."

I smiled back at her.

Five years together, and Austin had never once cooked for me.

There were only three things that ever got him into the kitchen.

Skylar coming home. Skylar's birthday. Skylar dropping by for a meal.

Right on cue.

Half an hour later the food was ready, the doorbell rang, and Skylar walked in.

Mrs. James lit up at the sight of her.

"Skylar's finally back. I've missed you to pieces."

"I missed you too, Mrs. James."

Skylar looped her arm through Mrs. James's, the two of them all laughter and chatter.

Austin couldn't stop smiling, loading their plates one bite after another.

I shrank into the corner like a patch of air.

I poked at the plain white rice, eyes down, with nowhere to start.

A whole table of spicy dishes. Skylar lives for spice.

I'm allergic to chili. Austin forgot.

The meal had no taste at all.

Skylar chirped away, a happy little sparrow.

"Mrs. James, I booked us two facials this afternoon. Come with me. I've got so much to tell you."

Mrs. James's face split into a grin.

Austin nodded along.

"Go on. I'll drive you both over."

Austin runs on low energy. He hates going anywhere.

Even for our honeymoon, I'd wanted to go to Switzerland.

He shot it down flat.

"Too much hassle. We'll just drive around somewhere nearby."

But the moment Skylar asks, Austin's at her beck and call, ready whenever she wants.

Skylar suddenly cut a glance my way.

"Nora, are you coming?"

The warmth that had filled the room a second ago cooled a few degrees.

Skylar had booked two facials, and now she was asking if I'd come.

I was about to shake my head when Austin spoke first.

"She's not coming. She just likes staying home."

I looked at Austin and said nothing.

So that's what he thinks. That I like staying home.

Before they left, Austin gave his usual parting reminders.

"Nora, if anything comes up, call me."

I didn't answer.

The last time something came up, it was cramps so bad I could barely sit upright.

There was no painkiller in the house.

My head was swimming, and half out of my mind, I called Austin.

"Nora? Skylar's drunk, I'm taking her home first. I'll call you back later."

He never called back.

Calling him when I needed something was useless.

Austin didn't wait for a reply. He shut the door.

The apartment went quiet, just me and the cat.

I checked the time and got ready to head out.

The wedding was a month away.

There was a long list of things to cancel on short notice.

Cancel the venue. Call the planner and pull every service.

And return the gown.

I'd barely reached the bridal shop when Skylar's newest post slid into my feed.

She was in the passenger seat, flashing a peace sign, Austin behind the wheel.

In the back seat, Lavinia leaned forward, beaming from ear to ear.

The caption read: 【My rock, forever. My favorite Austin.】

I tapped like.

At the front desk, I gave them Austin's number.

The clerk smiled at me.

"You're a friend of Ms. Henson's, here to pick up her gown?"

I went still for a moment.

"Ms. Henson?"

"Yes, Ms. Skylar Henson. Sorry, I should call her Mrs. James now."

The clerk's face was full of envy.

"Mr. James dotes on her. They're so in love."

"We revised the gown several times to her taste. The day she came in for the final fitting, she walked out in it and Mr. James took one look and teared up."

She swiped to a photo on her tablet.

"They make such a perfect pair. They even agreed to let us display this as a sample in the shop."

In the photo, Austin held Skylar's hand, his eyes bright.

Skylar's gown was flawless white, a smile in her eyes.

The two of them gazing at each other like nothing else existed.

It was a different clerk who'd helped me before, and she'd mixed me up with Skylar.

Austin hadn't corrected anyone.

I'd chosen the gown after a single fitting.

Austin had said he'd handle this part, that I shouldn't trouble myself over it.

So the gown had been remade into something Skylar liked.

My gown, and she'd been the first to wear it.

My fiancé in a bridal photo with another woman, hung up in the studio for all to see.

"I need to return the gown, please. I'll pay the cancellation fee."

The clerk looked startled.

"Return it? But Mrs. James said her wedding is set for July thirteenth."

"There won't be time to return this and order a new one—"

Skylar had come home to get married.

She said her wedding was set for July thirteenth.

My wedding was July thirteenth too.

Austin had picked the date.

He'd said he'd consulted someone for a lucky date, that this was the only good day.

I called one of Austin's friends.

"Nora? Why the sudden call?"

"Is Skylar's wedding on July thirteenth?"

The other end stammered out a yes.

A ridiculous, absurd suspicion rose up in me.

"Austin's and my wedding is July thirteenth too. What does that mean?"

"Nora, don't read too much into it, it's nothing."

"It's just a promise from when they were kids playing house. Skylar insisted on marrying the same day as Austin."

So after five years together, Austin had stalled and stalled, unwilling to marry.

Then in three months, he'd raced to propose and locked down a date.

All because of Skylar.

I hung up.

My stomach kept turning, a revulsion I couldn't put into words.

I called Austin.

"You took Skylar to try on my gown?"

He froze.

"Nora, you—"

"Our wedding's the same day as Skylar's. What does that mean?"