Between the two of us sisters, I never measured up.

Camille Simmons was the golden child—an Ivy League graduate who'd made a name for herself in the investment world. I was just the receptionist at our family's company.

When Camille got married, the wedding was held at the Burj Al Arab in Dubai. The guest list read like a who's who of high society. When I married Rod Pruitt, he was still writing code in a rented studio apartment.

But I didn't mind.

Because he'd once looked me in the eyes and told me, with all the sincerity in the world:

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and mine only see you, Theresa Simmons."

Three years later, Rod's company went public.

I set a full dinner table in our new house, waiting for him to come home so we could celebrate. The door opened, but he froze in the entryway.

I followed his gaze.

In the living room, a slender figure sat weeping beneath the lamplight.

It was Camille.

She'd gotten a divorce. She'd come to me.

……

I knew exactly why she was here. She'd walked away from her marriage with nothing. She had nowhere else to go.

I should have rushed to greet her. Comforted her. Pulled her into my arms.

She was my sister, after all. My own flesh and blood.

But my feet felt like they'd been poured full of lead. I couldn't move.

The way Rod was looking at her—I'd never seen that expression before.

He stood in the foyer, only a few steps from me. But it was as if I didn't exist. His eyes were fixed on the woman on the couch.

Camille Simmons wore a white dress, her head bowed, crying softly.

Rod's hand lifted, then dropped. He hesitated for a long moment before finally walking over.

He sat down beside her. Handed her a tissue. Spoke to her in a low voice.

I couldn't make out the words.

But that expression. That look in his eyes. It was nothing like the man I knew.

I recognized it instantly.

Every man who'd ever chased after Camille had looked at her exactly the same way.

A draft from the air conditioning swept over me. Cold.

Three years ago, on a night like this, I'd stood in my wedding dress waiting for Rod to come for me. He'd been so good to me—so good that I'd never once worried about a thing.

Now I knew he could look at someone else like that.

Like she was the only person in the room.

My phone buzzed several times before I snapped out of it. The company group chat was asking about tomorrow's meeting schedule. I typed a few words back without thinking.

When I looked up again, the living room was empty.

Rod was guiding Camille down the hallway. One hand rested on her shoulder. The other hovered at the small of her back.

She kept her head down, still crying, barely able to walk. Her whole body leaned against him.

They looked close. Intimate, even.

I stood in the middle of the hallway with a bowl of freshly heated soup, directly in their path.

Rod saw me and paused.

"Theresa."

His tone was even enough.

"I heard about your sister's divorce. She really needs family around her right now."

As if afraid I might read too much into it, Camille quickly pushed Rod away and stepped back. She swayed, nearly losing her balance.

Rod reached out instinctively to steady her. She flinched away.

"I'm so sorry, Theresa."

Her voice was hoarse, her head still lowered.

"I didn't want to intrude on you two. I just had nowhere else to go. If this is too much trouble, I'll leave right now."

She actually turned to go.

But she was in no state to walk. She made it one step before her legs buckled.

I set the soup down and caught her.

"Camille."

I held her hands. They were ice cold.

"What are you talking about? Mom already told me about the divorce."

She looked up at me, tears pooling along her lashes.

"I really had no other choice." Her voice trembled. "If I had anywhere else to stay, I would never have come to burden you..."

"Camille, this is your home too."

I sighed. "Don't talk about being a burden."

She blinked, stunned for a moment. Then the tears spilled over again.

Rod stood nearby, watching the scene unfold. The tension in his brow eased, and he let out a visible sigh of relief.

"Get some rest," he said to her. "You need to take care of yourself."

I walked past Rod without looking at him.

But I could feel it. His gaze never left my sister.

During dinner, my mom called out of nowhere.

"Your father and I are downstairs. Let us in."

Rod set down his chopsticks and glanced at me.

I was about to speak, but he'd already taken my sister by the arm and was heading for the door.

I froze for a second, then followed a few steps behind.

By the time I reached the entryway, the living room was already full.

Mom was holding my sister, her face caught between heartbreak and worry.

My sister was shaking, sobbing so hard her whole body trembled.

Rod stood right beside her, his eyes brimming with concern.

"Mom, Mom..."

My sister could barely get the words out between gasps.

"I was too ashamed to go home... I had nowhere else to go but here, to my little sister..."

Mom pulled her closer, murmuring comfort over and over.

It took a long time before my sister finally began to calm down.

She leaned against Mom's chest and started talking in broken fragments.

The divorce papers had been signed in a rush. She hadn't asked for anything.

Her ex-husband's family had turned on her overnight, refusing to let her take even her personal belongings.

The car and the apartment she'd put in his name before the wedding were gone. She couldn't recover a single cent.

Worse still, her ex-husband's friends had been spreading rumors behind her back, claiming she'd been the one who cheated.

A divorced woman. In their social circle, she couldn't show her face anywhere.

"Mom, I can't go back. I married him with so much fanfare, and now look at me. I... what do I even have left to live for..."

Mom held her tighter, stroking her hair, trying to soothe her.

My sister lifted her head, tears blurring her eyes, and looked at Dad. "Dad, you have to help me."

Dad's expression was grave. He was just about to speak.

"Let your sister stay here."

Rod's voice cut in.

I stared at him, unblinking.

He was talking to me, but he wasn't looking at me. His eyes were fixed on my sister.

He said it so naturally, like he'd already made up his mind long before this moment.

"The two of you can look after each other. Theresa won't be lonely."

He added, without missing a beat:

"And it'll help you get back on your feet faster."

My sister raised her tear-streaked face and looked past everyone in the room, straight at me.

Her eyes curved softly, and she gave me a small, grateful smile.

Mom nodded eagerly.

"Yes, yes, yes! With your sister here to keep you company, your father and I can rest easy!"

Dad agreed too, saying they'd figure out how to help her down the road.

Only then did Rod turn to face me.

He walked over and lowered his voice.

"Your sister's been through hell. We should take care of her. Go get the master bedroom ready."

I looked at him for a few seconds. Then I said okay.

He noticed something was off about my mood. He hesitated, seemed like he wanted to explain.

But my sister started crying again, and he turned on his heel, crossing the room to her side in three quick strides.

That night, my sister moved into the master bedroom.

It was the biggest room in our new home. I'd spent weeks tracking down a master craftsman to get every detail just right.

The best natural light. A dazzling view of the city at night.

Rod and I moved into the guest room.

I went to prepare the room myself.

Fresh sheets. A lit diffuser. The air conditioning adjusted to her preferred temperature. Every detail arranged the way she liked it.

When I came out, I ran into Rod in the hallway.

He was carrying a bowl of warm broth, steam still curling from the surface.

"Theresa, I'm going to check if your sister's asleep yet."

I paused for a moment, then managed a smile that didn't quite reach my eyes.

"She's probably still up."

He gave a faint nod.

Then he walked right past me without breaking stride.

The bowl of broth sat steady in his hands. Not a single drop spilled.

Rod was good to me too, in his own way. But something like personally bringing someone a late-night meal—

He almost never had.

Thinking about all of this, I absentmindedly touched the bracelet on my wrist.

Three years. I'd never once taken it off.

The bracelet was a gift from my sister.

On the day of the wedding, she said she wasn't feeling well.

I waited at home for a long time. The makeup artist had already rushed me three times.

But Mom was impatient—with me, not with her.

"What's the hurry? Just wait a little longer. Your sister will be here any minute."

It wasn't until we truly couldn't delay any longer that Mom reluctantly sent me off.

I sat in the wedding car, watching the world slide past through the window.

Even as the car pulled away, I kept thinking—would she suddenly appear?

She'd promised me. She said on my wedding day, she would put the veil on me herself.

She never came.

That evening, after the ceremony was over and the last of the guests had gone, I sat at home, listening to the sounds outside.

The door opened. Footsteps approached. Someone stopped in front of me.

"Theresa."

Rod's voice carried a smile.

I looked up. He stood before me in his suit, bow tie still perfectly knotted.

I suddenly didn't know what to say. I just lowered my head and stared at my own hands.

My palms were slick with sweat.

"Tired?"

I shook my head.

He sat down beside me and took my hand in his.

I looked up at him. His eyes were bright, and I could see my own reflection in them.

"Starting today, you're my wife."

I nodded.

He smiled and pulled a small box from his pocket. Inside was a bracelet. The design wasn't anything extravagant—simple, understated—but when he held it out to me, his hand was trembling.

"I don't have much money. I saved up six months of my salary for this. I hope you don't think it's too plain."

I took it and slipped it onto my wrist.

It was a little tight. He adjusted the clasp for me until it sat just right.

I looked up at him. "It's beautiful."

He grinned—this big, goofy grin.

That night, he said so many things.

He said he'd been too busy with his startup, that he felt guilty for neglecting me. He said he'd work hard to give me a good life.

I listened, tucking every word away in my heart.

Then he said something I never forgot.

"Everyone else chases what's bright and glamorous. All I see is you."

I believed him.

On the newlywed visit to my parents' house, I finally saw my sister.

Rod was supposed to come with me, but something came up at the office at the last minute. He didn't make it.

So he never got to meet her.

She was lying in bed, her face pale. The moment she saw me, her eyes turned red.

I walked over and took her hand. Her fingers were cold—so much colder than mine.

"I'm sorry, Theresa. I'm so sorry I couldn't be at your wedding."

I told her it was fine, that the only thing that mattered was her getting better.

She reached into the nightstand drawer and took out a box, handing it to me.

I opened it. Inside was a Van Cleef & Arpels Alhambra bracelet in red.

Far more expensive than the one on my wrist.

"This is the gift I got for you," she said, her smile soft and gentle. "I wanted to put it on you myself, but…"

Her eyes reddened again before she could finish.

I squeezed her hand. "Don't be sad. I'll wear it right now."

I reached for the clasp on my wrist, ready to swap it for hers.

She pressed down on my hand. "Don't take that one off. Wear them both."

I did as she said and put both bracelets on.

Hers was exquisite, and it sat heavy on my wrist.

I kept looking down at it, turning my arm this way and that. Something warm spread through my chest.

"Theresa," she said, holding my hand. "I wish you and him a lifetime together. I wish you happiness, always."

I looked up at her.

She was pale and drawn, but her eyes were so beautiful. So sincere.