The day the wedding vows were revised for the third time, Devin and Margot got into another screaming match. One was my older sister. The other was my fiancé. Margot insisted on cutting the line “for richer or poorer.” She said it felt tired and incredibly cliché. Devin scoffed. “What do you know about it? The classics carry weight. That’s the whole point.” They argued in the church aisles, they argued through the tasting menu at the restaurant. They fought over the word count of the vows and tore each other apart over the processional music. By early evening, Margot called me. “I finally got Devin to cave. We’re keeping that stupid line, but the entrance music is being changed to an acoustic string cover of “Starlight”. I’ve already hired an arranger. Noelle, what do you think?” 01 Margot’s voice was a little hoarse—evidence of how long she’d been yelling. Yet her tone was distinctly elevated, triumphant. She sounded like she’d just won a war. Before she even finished her sentence, the other end of the line exploded. Devin’s voice chased after hers, the muffled rustle of the receiver making it obvious he was physically trying to wrestle the phone out of her hand. “I didn’t agree to a damn thing! You play dirty. You couldn’t win the argument so you resorted to kicking me under the table!” Margot’s voice dripped with venom. “Shut your mouth, you absolute dog.” Devin let out a sharp, incredulous laugh. “Why don’t you shut up? You threw the wedding binder at my head!” “I wouldn’t have thrown it if you weren’t crowding my space!” “I only crowded your space because I was trying to get the binder back!” “So you admit you grabbed it first! Hence, the throw!” “Margot, you are a complete psychopath.” I sat in my apartment, gripping my phone, listening to the volley of their voices. They grew louder and louder. Just like they had a thousand times before. Neither willing to yield a single inch. Until they finally remembered I was on the line. “Noelle, listen to me,” Margot demanded, breathless. “Tell him you agree with my vision. You do, right?” Devin wasn’t having it. “Noelle, don’t listen to a word she says.” He immediately pivoted back to Margot. “Why are you even asking her? Asking her is just forcing her to pick sides.” Margot let out a cold, sharp laugh. “She’s my little sister. So what if she takes my side?” “She’s my “fiancée”. Why the hell would she take yours?” I opened my mouth to speak. They started shouting over each other again. During a thirteen-minute phone call, I spoke exactly three words. “Hello.” “Yeah.” “Okay.” I slipped them into the microscopic fractures of their argument. It felt like trying to slide a sewing needle between two suffocating brick walls. 02 The strategic merger between the Hughes family and the Garrison family was originally supposed to be between Margot and Devin. They were the same age. They grew up in the same country clubs, attended the same prep schools. Our parents sat down over drinks at the estate three times, and the whole thing was practically signed in blood. Everyone was thrilled. Everyone except Margot and Devin. “Marry him? Are you out of your minds?” Margot had shrieked, face flushed with rage. “Just looking at him makes me want to break something.” Devin was equally dismissive, rolling his eyes. “Margot? Wow, thanks. I wouldn’t marry her if she were the last woman breathing on the Eastern Seaboard.” Both sets of parents tried to run interference. They offered the classic, wealthy-parent platitudes: “Feelings take time to grow. Love is built on partnership. You’ll figure it out.” Margot went nuclear. “I am never marrying Devin Hughes. If you’re so desperate for this corporate alliance, you have another daughter. Give him Noelle. From what I can tell, they get along just fine.” She wasn’t even afraid of sounding ridiculous. Me and Devin? We were acquaintances, at best. Over the course of our entire lives, we had exchanged maybe ten sentences. She was just using my name to disgust him, to make him uncomfortable. But Devin’s reaction threw the entire room off its axis. He looked away. A faint flush crept up his neck, and suddenly, this brash, confident heir couldn’t even form a straight sentence. “If… if it’s Noelle, I wouldn’t be opposed to that. Noelle is quiet. She’s sweet. She listens. Actually, I… I like Noelle quite a bit.” Just like that, the tides turned. The dying embers of our parents’ grand alliance roared back to life. And in the end, the name next to Devin’s on the wedding invitations was mine. 03 But once the engagement was set, Margot suddenly decided Devin wasn’t good enough for me. She stomped her feet. She hunted him down just to berate him. “When exactly did you start looking at Noelle like that? Have you been creeping on her this whole time? Who the hell do you think you are, Devin? You don’t deserve her.” Then she’d turn to me, eyes blazing with righteous indignation. “He’s a player, Elle. He has zero moral compass. Don’t let the tailored suits and the polite manners fool you. Underneath it all, he is an absolute animal.” Because of this, she appointed herself my personal watchdog. Whenever she and Devin were in the same room, it was a bloodbath. They were at each other’s throats instantly. She audited his friends, she interfered with his weekend plans. Above all, she strictly forbade him from being alone with any other women. “You’re overstepping,” Devin would snap. Margot would stand tall, utterly unapologetic. “I am protecting my sister’s investment. I am guarding your so-called purity for her, and I will be watching you like a hawk.” Eventually, they became the social circle’s favorite spectacle. The bickering childhood enemies. Someone at a cocktail party once joked, “Honestly, you two give off major enemies-to-lovers energy.” Margot had been furious. She dragged Devin over to me, practically spitting mad. “Don’t listen to those idiots, Elle. I wouldn’t touch him with a ten-foot pole. If I actually wanted him, do you think you’d even be standing next to him right now?” I just smiled pleasantly and nodded. “Of course,” I said softly. “I believe you.” 04 My wedding to Devin was fast approaching. My family was rooted in Boston, but my art restoration studio was in Providence. Every weekend, I took the Amtrak up to play my part. Cake tastings, guest list audits, dress fittings. In reality, I was nothing more than a prop. Every single detail of my wedding was born out of a screaming match between Margot and Devin. They fought over the vintage of the champagne, the shade of the floral centerpieces, the font on the RSVP cards, and the brand of the artisan chocolates in the gift bags. It got so intense that our mother eventually teased Margot over brunch, “Darling, at this rate, you might as well be the one marrying him.” Whenever that happened, Margot would flinch, acting incredibly defensive. “I told you I can’t stand him! Why does everyone keep trying to push us together?” Today was my final dress fitting. Two gowns made the final cut, and it was time to choose. Devin drove over early to pick me up. We ran into Margot just as she was walking out the front door. She looked stunning. A tight designer slip dress, strappy heels, her hair blown out into perfect waves, makeup flawlessly understated. Devin took one look at her and raised an eyebrow. “Looking a little desperate today. Where are you going?” Margot’s eyes narrowed. She grabbed the hem of her dress and actually tried to kick his shin. Devin, having clearly anticipated the move, sidestepped it effortlessly. She scoffed, adjusting her purse. “I’m in a fantastic mood today, so I’m not going to stoop to your level.” Devin’s jaw shifted. His eyes swept over her, unreadable. Then, in a low voice, he said, “We’re going to the bridal boutique. You coming?” Margot rolled her eyes. “It’s not my wedding. Why would I go?” “Oh, so now you remember it’s not your wedding? Funny, considering you threw the floral samples in the trash yesterday.” “I threw them away because they were hideous.” “Hideous? You just have zero taste.” Just as they were about to spiral into another shouting match, Margot abruptly snapped her mouth shut. She rolled her eyes and shoved past him. “I don’t have time to entertain you. Move.” She strutted down the driveway, leaving Devin staring blankly at her retreating back. His expression was tight, caught somewhere between fury and something much heavier. I walked up beside him. “Is everything okay?” He immediately forced a smile, his voice dropping into that gentle cadence he always used with me. “It’s nothing. Come on, let’s go.” Devin was a powder keg around Margot, but whenever we were alone, he was mild. Polite. Considerate. He would carry the conversation, trying to make me laugh. Even though I was quiet and rarely gave him much of a reaction, he never seemed to mind. But today, the interior of the car was dead silent. I don’t know how many miles passed before he spoke. He tried to make it sound incredibly casual. “So, your sister looked like she was on a mission today. Where’s she off to?” I glanced at him. I didn’t say a word. He cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably in the driver’s seat. “I mean, just asking. If you don’t know…” “She’s on a date.” My voice was flat. Emotionless. Devin slammed his foot on the brake. “What did you just say?” My body jerked forward violently, the seatbelt locking and yanking me back against the leather. I frowned, rubbing my collarbone. “That hurt,” I said, annoyed. Devin didn’t even hear me. His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. “Where did you say she went?” I looked up, meeting his manic gaze. “A date. Is there a problem?” Devin let out a harsh, breathless laugh. “No. Nothing. Great.” For the rest of the drive, the air pressure in the car was so heavy it felt hard to breathe. When we finally pulled up to the bridal shop, Devin didn’t turn off the ignition. “You go on in. I need a cigarette.” I murmured an acknowledgment, stepped out of the car, and followed the bridal consultant inside. “Miss Garrison, would you like to get into the first gown?” she asked warmly. I shook my head, taking a sip of the sparkling water they offered. “No rush. I’m going to wait a bit.” I waited for nearly twenty minutes. When Devin finally walked through the glass doors, he was walking fast, his face completely rigid. “Noelle, there’s an emergency at the firm. I have to head back right now. Can we reschedule the fitting?” 05 Devin left. I stood in the mirrored room, staring at the two final gowns hanging on the rack. One was the dress Margot had pushed for. The other was the one I liked. I pointed to the one Margot chose. “I’ll take that one. I don’t need to try it on.” Leaving the boutique, I didn’t go back to my parents’ house in Boston. I took the train straight back to Providence. An antique dealer had recently brought a piece to my studio. It was a 19th-century oil painting, a breathtaking landscape from the Hudson River School. The composition was brilliant, but there was a deep, jagged tear straight through the canvas, and the paint was badly flaking along the edges. It required patching, reweaving the canvas threads, and painstaking color matching. Half a month’s worth of meticulous labor. I was right at the finish line. Back in my studio, I pulled an all-nighter, hunched under the magnifying lamp until it was perfect. After I delivered the piece, collected the final payment, and closed the file, my phone buzzed. It was Devin. “Noelle, do you have some time? We need to talk.” His tone was grave. He had never spoken to me like that before. I narrowed my eyes slightly, my fingernail tapping lightly against my work desk. “I’m catching an afternoon train back to Boston,” I said. “Let’s do dinner tonight. With the families.” “Perfect. I actually have something I need to tell you, too.” 06 I arrived at the restaurant at seven. Both sets of parents were already there, chatting amicably over drinks. My mother was smiling. “Our Noelle is a bit reserved. She’s not as outgoing or charming as Margot, so you’ll have to be patient with her once they’re married.” Devin’s mother waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, stop it. I adore Noelle. Look at her—so well-behaved, so poised. I always tell my friends how jealous I am of you. Two daughters. Two absolute blessings.” I sat there, letting their voices wash over me like white noise, and quietly ordered for the table. Moments later, the heavy oak doors pushed open. Devin and Margot walked in together. They were standing incredibly close. But the second they looked up and realized how many eyes were on them, they froze, immediately jumping apart. It was a clumsy, guilty reaction. Luckily for them, I was the only one paying attention. “Margot, Devin, you’re here. Sit down,” my father commanded. “Waiter, we’re ready for the appetizers.” Devin and Margot exchanged a loaded look. Both of them looked physically ill. Devin took the empty chair beside me. Margot sat on his other side. “So, what’s the occasion tonight?” Devin asked, his voice strained. His mother looked at him, confused. “You didn’t know? Noelle told us she had a major announcement to make.” Every single eye at the table turned to me. I only looked at Margot. She stiffened, her eyes darting away in sheer panic. Devin frowned, his jaw clenched. “Noelle. What are you talking about?” I stood up. “I’m calling off the wedding.”
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