Alice arrived to collect her things from her ex and found her sister in a dressing gown.
“What do you even know about love?” Her voice trembled, the phone nearly slipping from her clammy grip. “Three months of restaurants, flowers, and thenpoofyou vanished like none of it mattered!”
“Listen, I never promised you forever,” came the infuriatingly calm reply from Oliver. “We had fun, thats all.”
“Fun?” Alice exhaled sharply, fighting the shake in her voice. “Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. You know what? Ill come by tomorrow to get my things. And youll never see me again.”
“Tomorrows no good. Im… busy.”
“Busy with what? Another naïve girl?”
“Alice, dont start. Im tied up till evening. Come after eight.”
“Not a chance. Ill be there at noon. I dont care about your scheduleitll take ten minutes, and then you can carry on with your *perfect* life without me.”
She stabbed the red button before he could respond, hurled the phone onto the sofa, and buried her face in her hands. The tears shed held back all week finally broke free. Why did it always end this way? Why did she keep choosing men who treated her like a temporary distraction?
A soft knock at the door.
“Alice, love, you alright?” Her mum peered in, a steaming mug in hand.
“Im fine,” Alice muttered, swiping at her cheeks. “Just tired.”
Her mum set the tea down and sat beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I heard. Oliver again?”
Alice nodded, throat too tight to speak.
“Sweetheart, how long are you going to let this man break your heart? Four months of pining over someone who doesnt value you.”
“Im not pining,” Alice snapped. “I just want my things back so I can move on.”
“Whats even left there? A few books? A jumper?”
“My favourite perfume, two blouses, Grans photo album. I cant just leave them.”
Her mum sighed, stroking her hair. “Let me fetch them. Or Emily?”
At the mention of her older sister, Alice scowled. “Dont drag Emily into this! Were not exactly speaking.”
“Good grief, what now?”
“Nothing. She just thinks she knows best. Told me Oliver was a waste of time. Bet shes thrilled to be right.”
“She means well,” her mum chided gently.
Alice shook her head. Emily was *always* perfectstraight-A student, first-class degree, high-flying career, picture-perfect marriage. Easy for *her* to lecture from on high. Meanwhile, Alice at thirty-two had a shattered heart, a rented flat, and a job she loathed.
“Ill get my things myself,” she said firmly. “And close this chapter for good.”
—
The next morning, Alice woke with a throbbing head. Shed tossed all night, rehearsing the encounter with Oliver in her mind. Today, shed be flawlesslet him regret losing her. She applied her makeup with precision, slipped into a new dress, and stepped into her highest heels.
As the taxi wound through familiar streets, she practiced her lines. Cold. Composed. No tears, no accusations. Grab her things, walk out, head high.
Olivers building was silent. The lift carried her to the seventh floor, her pulse hammering loud enough to echo in the hallway. She inhaled deeply and pressed the buzzer.
Silence. No answer. Maybe hed actually left for his *busy schedule*? She jabbed the button again, holding it longer. Footsteps approached. She straightened, ready.
The door swung open.
Alice froze.
There stood Emilyher *sister*. In a dressing gown. Hair damp. Face stunned.
“Alice?” Emily stepped back. “Whatwhat are you doing here?”
Alices mouth worked soundlessly. Fragments of thoughts collided, none forming coherence.
“What am *I* doing here?” she finally choked out. “What are *you* doing here? In a dressing gown. In my exs flat.”
Emily dragged a hand down her face. “Its not what you”
“Whos there, Em?” Oliver appeared behind her, buttoning his shirt. He halted at the sight of Alice, his expression caught between surprise and irritation.
“Oh. You. I said *after eight*.”
Alices gaze darted between them. Something inside her snapped, plummeting into emptiness.
“Youyoure together? My sister and my ex?”
Emily lunged forward. “Alice, lets talk. Not here”
“Talk? About *what*? How youve been laughing at me behind my back?” Nausea rose in her throat. “How long has this been going on? While we were still together?”
Oliver sighed, crossing his arms. “Nothing happened when we were dating. Emily and I met *after*.”
“Met *accidentally*?” Alice let out a bitter laugh. “Accidentally ended up in bed?”
“Stop,” Emily cut in sharply. “Youve got it all wrong.”
“How else am I supposed to take it?” Alices voice cracked. “Explain it to me, then! How do I process seeing my own sister in a dressing gown in the home of the man I”
She couldnt finish. Her throat clenched as if gripped by invisible hands. Spinning on her heel, she fled to the lift, stabbing the call button like it might hasten its arrival.
“Alice, wait!” Emily chased her into the hallway, clutching the gown shut. “Let me explain!”
“Dont touch me!” Alice recoiled. “I saw everything. What explanation could there *be*?”
The lift doors slid open. She hurled herself inside, jamming the ground-floor button. The last thing she saw before the doors shut: Emilys stricken face, Oliver stepping out to rest a hand on her shoulder.
—
Outside, sunlight mocked her turmoil. She stumbled down the pavement, blind to her surroundings, jostling strangers. Her phone buzzed relentlessly in her bagEmily, no doubt. Alice ignored it. *Never again.*
She ducked into the first café she passed, ordering a coffee she wouldnt drink. She just needed to sit before her legs gave out. Her hands shook so violently she had to clamp them between her knees.
The waitress set down the cup, eyeing her pallor. “You alright, love?”
“Fine, thanks,” Alice forced a smile. “Just… didnt sleep well.”
Alone again, she stared into the coffee, watching ripples form from her trembling. How was this possible? Emilythe paragon of virtue, the one who lectured her on *standards* and *self-respect*was with *Oliver*?
Her phone rang again. She yanked it out, ready to silence it, but the screen read *Mum*. She hesitated, then answered.
“Alice?” Her mums voice was tense. “Whats happened? Emily rang in floods”
“What did she tell you?” Alice interrupted.
“That youd quarrelled over some misunderstanding. That youd got the wrong idea”
“*Misunderstanding*?” Alice nearly shrieked. “I walked in on my sister *in a dressing gown* in Olivers flat! What *misunderstanding* covers that?”
Silence.
“Mum? You there?”
“… Im here,” her mum said softly. “Its justEmily said she was helping you.”
“*Helping*?” Alice barked a laugh so loud the couple next to her flinched. “Helping *how*?”
“I dont know the details. She begged me to tell you to hear her out. Said its not what it looked like.”
Alice clenched her jaw. “I dont want to hear it. Dont call me about this again.”
She hung up, switched off her phone, paid for the untouched coffee, and left.
Home was out of the questionMum would be lying in wait, armed with platitudes. Or worse, *Emily*. Instead, she headed to her best mate Sophiesthe one whod warned her from the start: *”I dont trust that Oliver. Smarmy git.”*
Sophie pulled her into a hug the second she opened the door. “Christ, you look awful. Whats happened?”
Alice spilled everything between gulping breaths and jagged pauses. Sophie listened, only interjecting with the occasional *”wanker”* or *”no *way*.”*
“I just… cant believe it,” Alice finished. “EmilyMiss Perfect*sleeping* with him?”
Sophie stirred her tea pensively. “Dyou think… maybe theres another explanation? Doesnt sound like her.”
“Youre *siding* with her?” Alice flared.
“Im not *siding*,” Sophie said evenly. “Just sayinghear her out. If its what you think, you can cut ties. But what if its not?”
Alice shook her head. “I dont want to see her. Ever.”
She stayed the night, still too raw to face her family. By morning, she had to turn her phone onwork would be calling. Dozens of missed calls from Emily, a few from Mum, and… one text from Oliver.
*Alice, youve got it wrong. Emily was helping you. Let her explain.*
She deleted it unread. What *could* he say? What convenient lie had they cooked up?
She called in sick, citing a family emergency, and spent the day at Sophies, drowning in old films to numb her mind. But the image wouldnt leave her: Emily in that gown, Oliver half-dressed…
That evening, the doorbell rang. Sophie answered, and Alice heard *her* voicehoarse, pleading.
“Hi. Is Alice here? I *need* to talk to her.”
Emily. Sophie glanced back questioningly. Alice shook her head.
“Sorry,” Sophie said gently. “Shes not up for talking.”
“*Please*,” Emilys voice cracked. “Its important. She needs to know the truth.”
“The *truth*?” Alice stormed to the door. “I *saw* the truth!”
Emily stood on the threshold, pale, eyes red-raw. A far cry from the composed older sister Alice knew.
“Can I come in?” she whispered.
Alice wanted to refuse. But Sophie was already stepping aside.
—
They sat on the sofa. Emily twisted the strap of her bag.
“Ill explain,” she began. “Just… hear me out, okay?”
Alice folded her arms. “Go on.”
“Im not with Oliver. Never have been.”
“Then why were you in his flat? In a *dressing gown*?”
Emily took a shaky breath. “I went to get your things.”
Alice scoffed. “And that required a *shower*?”
“Not *his* gown. *Yours*.” Emilys voice was barely audible. “Remember the silk one your colleagues gave you last birthday? You left it there.”
Alice blinked. She *did* have onepale blue, embroidered with birds.
“That doesnt explain why you were *wet*.”
Emily looked down. “Because Oliver spilled coffee on me.”
“*What*?”
“I went to see him last night. After you told Mum you were fetching your things. I… wanted to talk to him. Understand why he hurt you.”
“Why?” Alice hissed.
“Because youre my *sister*,” Emily said simply. “And Ive watched you crumble. I needed to know *why*.”
She swallowed before continuing.
“He didnt want to let me in, but I insisted. We talked in the kitchenhis version of the breakup. How you werent right, how he wasnt ready…”
“And?” Alice interrupted.
“Then I said Id take your things. That itd spare you seeing him. He agreed, but when we went to gather them, he knocked over his coffeeall over me.”
Alice stared.
“So you *stayed*?”
“No! He offered the shower while my clothes dried. He *washed* them. I put on your gown, and then… you arrived.”
“And him half-dressed?”
“Hed just woken up. Said hed slept badly.”
Alice leaned back, digesting it. The story was absurd… yet weirdly plausible. Emily *never* lied to her. Even when it hurt.
“You expect me to believe this?”
“I know how it looked,” Emily whispered. “But its true. Id *never* betray you. *Never*.”
She pulled a bag from her purse. “Hereyour perfume, blouses, the album. And the gown. Everything you left.”
Alice eyed the bag, then Emilys face. The raw pain in her eyes made doubt waver.
“Why didnt you tell me you were going?”
“Because youd have refused,” Emily said softly. “Youre so… proud. Never admit when youre hurting. But I *saw* it. So I tried to spare you.”
Alices throat tightened. All this time, shed assumed the worst of her sisterwhod only wanted to help.
“I… dont know what to say.”
“Say you believe me,” Emily begged. “Because its true. Id never hurt you. *Never*.”
Silence stretched. The anger, the betrayalit all ebbed, leaving shame in its wake.
“Why didnt you explain at the flat?”
“I *tried*! You ran before I could speak.”
It was true. Alice remembered Emily calling after her: *”Let me explain!”* She hadnt listened, too eager to embrace the worst.
“Im sorry,” Alice murmured. “I shouldve let you.”
Emily burst into tears. Alice pulled her into a hug. They stayed like that, wordless, until finally, Alice drew back, wiping her own cheeks.
“What did you say to Oliver? When you saw him?”
Emily gave a wet laugh. “That he was an idiot for letting someone like you go. And that hed regret it.”
Alice smiled despite herself.
“And he said?”
“Nothing coherent. Think I scared himbig sister coming to defend the little one.”
They laughed, the tension dissolving. Sophie, wisely, slipped out to give them space.
“You know,” Alice said after a while, “I always thought you had it all figured out. Perfect life, perfect choices. And me? Always picking the wrong men, the wrong jobs…”
Emily shook her head. “Not true. Ive messed up too. I just didnt always tell you.”
“Like what?”
“Like when James and I nearly divorced last year.”
Alice gaped. “*What*? But youre the *perfect* couple!”
“No ones perfect,” Emily said wryly. “We hit a rough patch. He was always working; I felt alone. We barely spoke.”
“Why didnt you *say*?”
“Didnt want to worry you. And… I was ashamed. All that advice I gave you about relationships, and mine was falling apart.”
“What changed?”
“We started *talking*. Honestly. About fears, wants… Turns out, thats the hardest part. And the most important.”
They talked until dawn. Emily stayed over, and in the morning, they returned home together, where their mum pulled them both into a crushing hug.
“Good Lord, I thought I was done mediating you two. Arent you *grown*?”
“Never too grown to need you, Mum,” Alice grinned, squeezing back.
Later, over tea, Alice unpacked the bagperfume, blouses, the album. And the gown, pale blue with embroidered birds.
“Funny,” Emily mused. “Maybe this was for the best. Now you *know* Oliver wasnt worth your tears.”
Alice nodded. “And that Ive got a sister wholl fight for me. Even when Im being a complete prat.”
“*Especially* then,” Emily laughed.
Alice smiled. Lifes lessons came in strange packages. Shed gone to reclaim her things from an exand found something far more precious instead.
