Her Favorite Rival (29 page)

Leah’s eyes had filled with tears and Audrey reached across to grab her sister’s hand. “You don’t need to do this. We don’t have to have this conversation. It’s all water under the bridge.”

And it wasn’t going to change anything. Audrey had long since resigned herself to the fact that she would never meet with her parents’ wholehearted approval. Leah flagellating herself wasn’t going to change anything.

“We do. God, we so do, Audrey. Because we both know that in order for me to be right and good and perfect, you had to be wrong and bad and damaged, don’t we? That’s what it comes down to, in a nutshell. I sat back and let that happen for thirty years. I accepted that, because it made me feel good, and I want you to know how...
ashamed
I am of that. And of Mum and Dad and what they did to you. What they still do to you....”

Leah’s face was streaming with tears now and she shook her head impatiently, using one of the cocktail napkins to mop up.

Audrey lay her hands palm-down on the table. “Listen to me. This is not your fault. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing, okay?” There was a tremble in her voice. The only clue to how profoundly her sister’s words had affected her. “Let’s have a nice dinner and you can tell me about your new speciality and I can tell you about my scary, seagull-eyed CEO.”

But instead of taking the out she was offering, Leah tilted her head, her eyes narrowing as she studied Audrey.

“You don’t want to talk about this.” It wasn’t a question.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because it won’t change anything.” And because it had taken her years to get to a place where she could protect herself and still be a part of the family.

“It might,” Leah said.

“No, it won’t. It’s been like this since before you were born, Leah. For whatever reason, I don’t measure up. So be it.”

“God, it kills me to hear you say that. I can’t stand it, Audrey.”

To her everlasting surprise, her sister scooted along the curved bench and flung her arms around Audrey.

“You are amazing. You are gorgeous and stylish and so smart. And strong. You are
so
strong, Aud. Even when I was a spoiled little princess I used to admire the way you endured everything they threw at you. And then you made a break for it when you were sixteen, and I didn’t know whether to cheer you on or be terrified of what might happen to you....”

Audrey sat stiffly in her sister’s embrace, stunned all over again by her sister’s words, her sister’s perspective.

Leah released her, but didn’t return to the other side of the banquette. “Do you know, I have never said no to them? Not about anything important. I have always been their good little girl, playing my part. And then I dropped out of the surgical program and got a small taste of what you’ve had to put up with for years.” Leah huffed out an incredulous gust of laughter. “Phone calls. Dire predictions. Guilt trips. Hand-wringing. Recriminations. You’d think I was going to throw medicine in and run off to join the circus the way Mum carries on. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve come close to caving purely to get her to let it go.”

“Mum sees herself in you. If you achieve, she achieves.” It had always seemed obvious to Audrey.

Leah shook her head slowly. “No, I don’t think so, Aud. I think she sees herself in you. Did you know she always wanted to be a surgeon instead of a GP?”

“No.” A memory tickled at the back of Audrey’s mind the moment the words were out of her mouth. She frowned. That day at Leah’s birthday lunch, her mother had said that she didn’t want Leah to make the same mistakes she had.

Audrey closed her eyes for a brief moment as she understood something she probably should have worked out years ago.

“Mum fell pregnant with me, didn’t she? And had to settle for being a GP.”

Leah nodded. “She had all these plans. Wanted to make her presence felt in the boys’ club.”

“And instead she had me.”

“Yes.”

Such a small, insignificant piece of the puzzle, yet now that Audrey had it, so many other things made sense. The pressure she’d felt from the very youngest age to be the smartest, the best, the most advanced. The disappointment her mother hadn’t even tried to hide when she’d failed at all of the above. Oh, she’d been smart enough, but not the smartest. She’d had a speech impediment early on that required therapy to correct, and she’d always struggled with math.

Then Leah had been born and started showing signs of being a gifted child from an early age. All of a sudden Leah became the focus, and the pressure was off for Audrey.

She’d been relieved at first. Then, in the way of children, she’d done her best to earn back some of the attention and focus she’d once enjoyed. She’d never been as smart or as good as Leah, though. For a brief period she’d acted out, but that got her little joy. By the time she was sixteen, she’d resigned herself to being the also-ran daughter.

And then she’d met Johnny and he had looked at her with desire and hung on her every word and worshipped her. And she’d been so hungry for all of the above that she’d given him whatever he asked for and followed wherever he led her—to parties, to clubs, to squats he and his friends were illegally occupying. And, finally, out her bedroom window so they could start their life together—a bold experiment that had encompassed sleeping rough on the streets when they couldn’t find a suitably vacant house or building, and stealing and begging to buy food and drink and drugs. She’d survived a torrid, scary, blurry eighteen months before being admitted to the hospital with life-threatening pneumonia after collapsing at a train station in the city.

Audrey could still remember how scared and hopeful and desperate she’d been when she’d finally allowed the hospital to contact her parents. She’d wanted them to love her so badly. For her absence to have somehow elevated her in their eyes to someone worthy of their affection and attention. They’d come running, gratifyingly tearful and grateful she was still alive. And angry, so very angry, that she’d put them through eighteen months of hell.

“You want another round?”

Audrey blinked, dragging her thoughts from the past and focusing on the tattoo-covered waitress hovering at the head of their booth.

“Um, sure. Yes, thanks,” she said.

“Me, too.”

Leah waited till the waitress was gone before speaking again. “I had a feeling you didn’t know about the surgery thing. She only told me recently. A cautionary tale in case I was planning on getting close enough to another human being to have sex. I saw your face when we were talking about it at my birthday lunch and it hit me that you didn’t know. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since.”

“No. I didn’t know. I always thought I was a disappointment. And sometimes I thought I was imagining all of it, that there was something needy and small in me that reacted against you being praised. That I was simply jealous. Envious.”

It was hard to articulate the things she’d always kept a lid on. The ugliest parts of herself. Because, of course, she
had
envied Leah at times. She’d coveted the smiles and approval her sister seemed to receive so effortlessly, simultaneously hating herself for being petty and jealous and needy.

Such a vicious cycle, all of it. The only way she’d even come close to stopping it was to build her own life, a world that existed independently of her parents and her sister. The moment she’d earned enough from her warehouse job at Makers to make it financially viable for her to leave home, she had, and she hadn’t looked back.

Hadn’t wanted to. Hadn’t needed to, because she’d been too busy building herself an unassailable fortress. A career she could be proud of. Financial security. Achievements she could hang her hat on. A sense of self-worth that came from within, not from anything her parents might bestow on her.

And mostly it worked. Mostly it protected her.

And now her sister was asking Audrey to lower the drawbridge and let her in. Telling her she’d been right to build her walls, that she admired her for it. That she was ashamed of the part she’d played in the sad family drama that had led them here.

“You wouldn’t be human if you hadn’t been jealous. As for what happened with Johnny... It’s hardly a miracle, is it, that you took off when there was so little for you at home.”

“No.”

Audrey reached for her drink, only to realize it had been taken away and the new one hadn’t arrived yet. Her hand was shaking, and she dropped it into her lap and clasped it with her other one. Holding it steady, even though the last thing she felt was steady.

“Are you okay?” Leah asked, frowning.

“Yes. I might...” Audrey stood and gestured toward the bathrooms. She didn’t wait for her sister to respond, making her way there. She wasn’t sure what would happen once she arrived, her insides were in such turmoil. The answer burned its way up her throat as she entered the cubicle and shut the door. She didn’t throw up, even though she really felt as though she needed to.

Shaky and on the verge of tears, she rinsed her mouth and washed her face. Megan was right—nausea was horrible. Definitely one of her least favorite things in the world, right up there with the anxiety that was jangling its way through her body. Drying her face, she tried to find some calm.

It was beyond her. Her sister had torn the scab off old wounds, and feelings and thoughts Audrey had buried years ago were rising up to assail her. No matter how many deep breaths she took she couldn’t seem to get enough air, and the walls still felt as though they were closing in.

I need to get out of here. I can’t do this.

She didn’t question the impulse. She left the bathroom and returned to her sister.

“I’m really sorry, Leah, but I need to go. I need to...process some of this, I guess. I feel a bit like I’ve been kicked in the head.”

Leah’s face was creased with concern. “Because I dumped all this on you like an idiot. I’m so sorry, Audrey. I was so caught up in wanting to get this all of my chest, wanting to clear my plate, but I’ve dumped it all on you instead, haven’t I?”

“It’s fine. It’s good. And I’ll be okay. It’s just... I try not to think about this stuff too much, you know?”

“I know.”

“But maybe we could do this again some time soon? Dinner, I mean.”

“I would really, really like that.” Leah stood and embraced her, pressing her cheek against Audrey’s.

It took her a moment to return the embrace, and when she did she did so fiercely.

“I do appreciate you being brave enough to bring this stuff up,” Audrey said.

Because how many families sailed along and ignored all the hurts they inflicted on each other?

“I love you. I haven’t said that to you nearly enough, but I do. I love you, Aud.”

“I love you, too, Leah.”

They broke their embrace and Audrey took a step backward. Needing to be outside now. Alone. That was the way she was used to dealing with the tough stuff—on her own.

She made her way upstairs and outside and sucking in big lungfuls of cool night air. It didn’t stop the tears from flowing as she strode toward the parking garage, but that was okay. There were only strangers to witness them and she could live with that.

Somehow she managed to slot enough money into the machine to get out of the lot, then she was driving home, the need to be in her place, with her things around her, to be safe, almost overpowering.

She was nearly home when her phone rang. She wasn’t going to answer it, then she thought it might be Leah, checking on her, and she didn’t want her sister to think she’d driven into a tree or something.

“Hello?”

“Audrey. Hey. I figured you’d still be out for dinner with your sister. I was going to leave a dirty, desperate message on your voice mail.” Zach’s voice filled her car, deep and resonant and familiar.

Suddenly the tears that had been tapering off started again, filling her throat, stealing her breath.

“Audrey? Are you still there?”

She sucked in a breath, using her forearm to wipe her face. “I’m here. Sorry. Now isn’t a great time to talk. Can I call you later?”

“Are you okay? You sound upset.”

“I’m fine.” She injected a note of brightness into her voice. “Just a little tired.”

He was silent for a moment. “Okay. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

“Thanks. I will.” She managed to hold it together until he hung up, then she pulled over and rested her arms on her steering wheel and howled her eyes out.

She felt so hollow, so sad, so alone. Feelings she’d been fighting all her life. Dumb to let them swamp her now at this age. She had a great life. Sure, her family was a little messed up, but whose wasn’t? There was no reason for her to be distraught because Leah had shone a light on the monsters under the bed.

Audrey started her car, glancing around to get her bearings. Suddenly the thought of spending the evening alone seemed unbearable. She didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts and memories.

Call me if you need anything.

Zach’s words echoed in her head. She couldn’t show up all tear-soaked and pathetic and launch herself at him. They’d been seeing each other less than a week. No way was she subjecting him to that.

It would be pathetic. And needy. He’d probably run a mile. He’d probably wonder what he’d gotten himself mixed up with.

Megan. She could go to Megan’s place. Megan would listen and offer tissues and get angry on her behalf and hold her while she cried.

But she didn’t want Megan.

She wanted Zach. She wanted to put her head on his shoulder. She wanted the already-familiar weight of his body pressing hers into the bed. They didn’t need to talk. They could have sex and then she could fall asleep in his arms and simply being surrounded by his solid warmth and confidence and sureness would make things recede to their proper perspective.

She tightened her grip on the steering wheel, undecided. Then she signaled and made a U-turn, driving toward the city.

The light was on in the front room at Zach’s place so she figured he was still awake, a not unreasonable assumption given it was relatively early. She grabbed her handbag and walked up the path and knocked, both hands fisted around the leather of the strap.