But Sara had her reasons for wanting to perpetuate this falsehood. Reasons she hadn’t seen fit to disclose yet to Rina. And blood was thicker than water. Rina had never had any cause to doubt her sister’s choices before—had never been in open conflict with her, ever. Regardless of her original intention to stop this charade in its tracks, Sara needed her to do this for her and do it she must, whatever the price, because, if their situation had been reversed, Rina had no doubt Sara would step in for her.
She got up off the bed and fingered the clothes hanging neatly in the closet, wondering which dress it was that Sara had worn when she’d accepted Rey’s proposal—or if it was even in here at all. She shook her head. She was being silly. She didn’t have to worry. It would be a simple matter to say the dress was at the cleaners or that she’d spilled makeup on it or something like that.
She could do this. For Sara she could do anything. She just had to remind herself of the mini-adventures they’d conducted when they were younger, standing in for one another. Though, this felt entirely different. This time, for the first time, she wanted what her sister had with a longing she had never experienced with such intensity. Walking away from Reynard after this, and leaving him to Sara, was going to be the toughest thing she’d had to do, ever.
Rina spied her suitcase shoved in the bottom of the wardrobe and knew exactly what she’d wear tonight. The dress she’d bought once she’d made her mind up to come here to lick her metaphorical wounds, supported by her sister’s tender love and care, was an aberration to her usual style. If anything, it was far more like something her party-mad sister would have chosen for herself.
Shorter than the type of dress she’d worn since she’d started going out with Jacob, the dark periwinkle blue fabric skimmed her thighs with flirty layers of hand painted chiffon and the softly draping cowl neck dropped from tiny spaghetti straps to give a hint of the swell of her breasts.
She’d even bought a special strapless bra to wear with it, and in a fit of extravagance, matching G-string panties. The second she’d tried on the dress in the store, she’d known it was perfect for her. She’d instantly felt empowered again, feminine and strong. Certainly not like a woman whose fiancé had only thought to let her know he’d be marrying someone else a week out from their proposed wedding date.
Yes, she might be pretending to be someone else, but she’d be doing it in her own clothes and wearing her own silver-strapped high-heeled sandals at the same time. And she’d do it with all the flair she could muster. Even as she made the decision to be herself, she felt conflicted. In the past, pretending to be her sister had been all about exactly that—being Sara. Was she treading too fine a line now?
Seven
By the time four o’clock rolled around, Rina was just about climbing the walls with frustration. The day had stretched out for what felt like forever and, with the cottage being as isolated as it was, there was little she could do to fill her time.
In the end, she’d taken out her frustration on the weeds along the front wall and in the gardens that bordered the front of the house—moving a sun umbrella along with her as she worked. At least she could see she’d been effective at something through the course of the day. The dry soil had made pulling weeds easy, though, and the job hadn’t taken as long as she’d expected. Not even a long pampering session in the cottage’s bathroom had filled enough hours before she could begin to expect Rey’s arrival.
As the hands on the mantel clock had wound their way slowly between four and five o’clock, Rina found herself straining her ears to listen for the sound of Rey’s car approaching. She smoothed the skirt of her dress for what was probably the twentieth time and checked the mantel clock again.
Finally, as the clock delicately chimed the quarter hour, she heard the muted roar of Rey’s car as it pulled up outside the cottage. She grabbed her silver clutch bag and secured the cottage’s front door before meeting him on the path at the front.
“You’ve been busy today,” Rey commented, looking at the evidence of her work in the gardens.