She cried quietly.
I let her.
Then I said, “But I don’t want anger to be the only thing left between us.”
Paige wiped her face. “What do you want?”
I thought about it.
Inside, Ethan was probably looking for me. My guests were probably whispering. The cake was probably melting slightly under the warm lights.
But that question deserved time.
“I want honesty,” I said. “Not instant closeness. Not fake sister pictures for Facebook. Not pretending today fixed everything. I want honesty. Therapy, maybe. Boundaries, definitely. And no more stealing each other’s light.”
Paige laughed through tears.
“I don’t think I have any light.”
“That’s the first lie we need to stop telling.”
She looked down.
“I don’t know who I am if I’m not competing with you.”
The sadness in her voice made my chest ache.
Because I believed her.
Some people become cruel because cruelty works. Others become cruel because they are terrified that without noise, nobody will notice they exist.
Paige had been making noise her whole life.
I reached for her hand.
She stared at our fingers like she did not trust them.
“You’re my sister,” I said. “That’s not all you are. But it’s where we can start.”
She squeezed my hand once.
Not too hard.
Just enough.
Then the door behind us opened.
Ethan stepped out, holding two slices of cake.
“I’m interrupting,” he said.
“Yes,” Paige said.
“No,” I said at the same time.
He smiled and handed us each a plate.
“I figured emotional breakthroughs require frosting.”
Paige stared at him, then laughed.
A real laugh.
Not sharp. Not performative.
Real.
I realized I had missed that sound.
Not because Paige deserved instant forgiveness.
But because before we were rivals, before we were women carrying old wounds into new rooms, we had been little girls hiding under the kitchen table, stealing cookie dough while Mom pretended not to see.
Later that night, Paige gave a toast.
I did not ask her to.
In fact, I was terrified when she stood up and tapped her glass.
Every guest turned toward her with the same expression: Here we go.
Paige noticed.
For once, she did not punish the room for expecting the worst from her.
