Chapter 5

　　Raine

　　I stood under the spray of the shower until the bathroom was a thick cloud of steam and my skin was scrubbed pink.

　　I wanted to wash away the phantom weight of Miguel's hands, but some marks didn't come off with soap.

　　I traced the faint, purple-yellow bruises on my breasts—the quiet evidence of a night he now called a "drunken mistake."

　　I covered them with a high-necked blouse and pulled on a pair of jeans, my movements stiff.

　　I didn't touch my makeup bag. I didn't want a mask today. I wanted to see the wreckage in the mirror so I wouldn't forget why I was hardening my heart.

　　The drive to the hospital was a blur of grey pavement and red lights. My hands were steady on the wheel, but my stomach was a tangled mess of wire.

　　By the time I reached the private wing, the sterile smell of bleach and floor wax felt like it was choking me.

　　I slowed down as I reached Raina's door. It was cracked open just a few inches, enough for her voice to drift out into the hall. It was soft and airy—the voice of a girl who had never had to raise it to be heard.

　　"You should be home with your wife, Miguel. I'm no longer yours."

　　I froze, my hand hovering inches from the doorframe. It was a classic Raina move—playing the martyr while making sure she was the center of the universe. I could almost see her eyes, wide and soulful, looking up at him from the pillows.

　　I held my breath, waiting for the answer. I knew it would hurt, but I couldn't stop myself from seeking the pain.

　　"She's not my Luna," Miguel's voice was low, vibrating with a fierce kind of honesty that made my lungs stop working.

　　"Whatever papers we signed three years ago… they don't mean anything. You're the one the Moon Goddess chose for me, Raina.

　　You're the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. There's nothing... nothing... that can happen between me and your sister to change that. It's you I love, baby. Only you."

　　I leaned my head against the cold wall of the hallway and closed my eyes.

　　There's nothing that can happen.

　　He had forgotten. Or worse, he had decided that the night we spent together, the way he had whispered my name and held me like I was precious, was so insignificant that it didn't even qualify as "something happening."

　　I was a zero in his equation. I was a footnote in his great love story with my sister.

　　I'd heard enough. I didn't want to hear him describe how much of a mistake I was.

　　I knocked, sharp and loud, and pushed the door open before they could pull apart.

　　Raina was propped up against a mountain of white pillows. She looked like a porcelain doll that had been dropped and glued back together—pale, fragile, and beautiful.

　　Tubes snaked into her thin arms, and her skin was so translucent I could see the blue veins beneath.

　　My heart gave a traitorous thud of sympathy. She was my sister. We had shared a womb. I had given her a piece of my own body so she could keep breathing. I couldn't hate her, even when I wanted to.

　　She turned her head toward me, her eyes filling with tears. She reached out one weak, shaking hand. "Raine…"

　　The guilt hit me like a blow. They were right. I was the selfish one. I had been at home feeling sorry for myself while she was fighting her way back to the light.

　　I crossed the room and leaned down, wrapping my arms around her carefully. She felt like she was made of bird bones. She smelled like antiseptic and the expensive lily-of-the-valley perfume Miguel must have brought her.

　　"How are you?" I asked, my voice sounding hollow in my own ears.

　　Raina pulled back, giving me a tiny, brave smile. "I've been better… but Miguel hasn't left me for a second. Since I opened my eyes, he's been right here. He's been giving me everything I could possibly want."

　　She looked up at him with a look of pure, unadulterated worship. I forced my face to stay neutral as I turned to look at my husband. He was standing by the bed, his hand still resting on the rail near hers.

　　"Thank you for taking such good care of my sister, Miguel," I said. The words tasted like ash.

　　He didn't smile. He didn't even soften his expression. His eyes were cold and sparking with a silent warning. "By Raina's side is exactly where I belong. It's the only place I want to be."

　　It was a public execution of our marriage. He was telling me, right in front of my sister and my parents, that I was nothing more than a temporary inconvenience.

　　Raina beamed at him, her pale cheeks flushing with a hint of pink. "Thank you," she whispered.

　　Then she looked at me, her expression turning pleading. "I'd like to have him stay here a few more days, Raine… if you don't mind. I'm just so scared when he's not here."

　　I opened my mouth to say that he was a grown man who could make his own choices, but Miguel didn't give me the chance.

　　"Just say the word and I'll stay," he said, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument. "I'll never leave your side again. Not for anything. Certainly not for work or… anything else."

　　The "anything else" was me. He was looking straight at her, their eyes locked in a silent vow.

　　I stood there, three feet away, feeling like I was behind a wall of thick glass. I could see them, but I couldn't reach them, and they couldn't hear me.

　　I felt like an intruder.

　　I glanced toward the corner of the room. My mother and father were standing there, their faces glowing with a warmth they never showed me.

　　They were watching Miguel and Raina like they were watching a miracle. They didn't even look at me. It was as if I had been erased from the family portrait, a smudge they had finally managed to wipe away.

　　The irritation started as a small spark in my gut and grew into a slow, steady burn. I was the one who had spent three years maintaining the lie.

　　I cleared my throat, the sound loud and harsh in the quiet room.

　　Miguel blinked, finally breaking his gaze from Raina. He checked his watch, his face returning to that cold, Alpha mask. "I should go deal with a few things at the office. I'll be back tonight."

　　He walked past me without a word, his shoulder brushing mine as if I were a piece of furniture in his way. I felt the rush of air as he left, and then the click of the door.

　　The silence that followed was even worse.

　　Raina let out a long, dramatic sigh and let her head sink back into the pillows. "I'm suddenly so sleepy… the medicine is so heavy…" She turned her face away from me, closing her eyes and effectively ending the conversation.

　　She wasn't sleepy. She just didn't want to look at the person she had displaced.

　　My mother stepped forward immediately, her hand landing on my arm—not to comfort me, but to push me toward the door. "You should leave now, Raine. She needs her rest. Don't wake her up with your clattering."

　　I stood my ground for a second, looking at my sister's closed eyes and my mother's impatient face. I wanted to scream. I wanted to ask them why they bothered calling me if all they wanted was to remind me that I was a ghost.

　　But I didn't. I just nodded, turned on my heel, and walked out.

　　My footsteps echoed down the long, sterile hallway. I kept my chin up and my shoulders back. I wouldn't let the nurses see me cry. I wouldn't let the security guards see me break.

　　They had their perfect reunion. They had their fated love.

　　And I had a penthouse full of cold air and a heart that was finally, slowly, turning into stone.