The words echoed inside me.
She's not built for this.
I thought of Ivy the way she really was, not the polished version people saw at family functions. The way she cried when she felt overwhelmed. The way she still reached for my hand in crowded rooms. The way she trusted me without hesitation.
She was my cousin by blood.
But she was my sister in every way that mattered. My younger sister and it was my duty to protect her.
"There's no way I'm letting her do this," Lucas said.
"And how exactly do you plan to stop it?" Noah asked quietly.
No one answered.
Because there was no answer. Not yet atleast.
I stood then, the movement slow, deliberate. My legs felt unsteady, but my mind was frighteningly clear.
"I need some air," I said.
No one tried to stop me.
Outside, the late afternoon sun felt wrong. Too warm. Too indifferent. I walked until I reached the edge of the garden, the stone bench where Ivy and I used to sit when we were younger.
I sat down, pressing my hands into my knees.
Either Ivy. Or me.
The words replayed over and over in my head.
I knew what Ivy would do if given the choice. She'd agree. She'd convince herself it was for the good of the family. She'd try to be brave and fail quietly.
I couldn't let that happen.
I didn't have much time left anyway.
The thought came unbidden, sharp and honest. I'd been running from it for months pretending I have much more time than I'm letting on.
If someone had to walk into that marriage, if someone had to stand across from Zane Whitmore and take on everything that came with his name, it would be me.
I could endure it.
Ivy couldn't.
By the time I stood, the decision was already made.
I just hadn't said it out loud yet.