Page 23 of The Island Villa

Rejected.

Cassie felt her whole body flush with panic. Sending it had been an impulsive, reckless thing to do, but at the time she’d been sad and frustrated and hadn’t thought for a moment that Adeline would actually choose to answer her letter. Oliver was right. She received hundreds of letters, but for some reason she’d chosen Cassie’s. Why?

Had she somehow guessed it was from Cassie? Or was it a subject close to her sister’s own heart?

No, that was definitely over thinking things.

“What does she say? Read her answer,” Oliver said. “I want to hear it.”

She was almost too afraid to look. Nervous, she read Adeline’s response aloud.

Dear Rejected, being estranged from a sibling is a particularly painful loss. Not only do you miss the individual, but the reality often jars with our vision of what a blood relationship should be. You have two choices. Accept things the way they are, or work to change them.

Cassie glanced up. “That’s obvious. What I want to know is how to change it.”

“Keep reading.”

Cassie sighed.

Your sister may be hurting too. She may have her own reasons for keeping her distance. All relationships change over time, but it can be helpful to try to analyze when it went wrong. What happened?

“I know what happened,” Cassie said. “I was born. Enough said.”

Oliver rolled his eyes. “Read her answer!”

“I’m reading. ‘Have you ever addressed the problem directly with your sibling?’” Cassie glanced up again. “What am I supposed to say? I’m sorry my dad fell in love with your mum and she loved him back? I’m sorry that you are so unforgiving and resentful. And, by the way, it was two decades ago so could you get over it already? Also, I don’t think she’s hurting.” She handed the phone back to him. “I’m going to stop reading her column. That’s it.”

“Good plan. And are you sure that’s the dress you want? It’s going to make you feel okay?”

“Yes.” She handed it to the assistant, along with the jacket and her credit card.

It wasn’t exactly true. Her sister was going to the wedding, and no dress in the world was going to make her feel okay about that.

6

Catherine

Andrew joined her on the terrace where she’d been sipping strong Greek coffee and trying to keep herself calm.

Her heart pounded as she looked at his face. “Well?”

He sat down opposite her and gave her a look she couldn’t interpret. “All those late nights and early mornings in your office. Those times you refused to discuss your book, even though you always talk about your book. This is what you’ve been keeping from me?”

“Yes.” She felt raw and vulnerable. People didn’t understand how terrifying it was offering up creative work for another person’s judgment. Even now, after so many successes, having proved herself, she was still terrified when she sent her latest book to her editor. Sometimes she had to stare at the books she’d already written, lined up neatly on her shelves, to remind herself that she’d done it before and could do it again. “Did you hate it?”

“Hate it? No. It’s brilliant. I couldn’t stop reading.”

The air left her lungs in a whoosh.

“Really?”

“Yes.” He put the pages down on the table. “This is scary stuff, Catherine. Where the hell did it come from?”

“I don’t know. My brain.” She felt her mood lift and soar, like a bird catching a thermal. “You were scared when you read it?”

“Terrified. I had no idea you had this inside you. That scene at the beginning where he’s locked in that room, and he hears her outside, the tap, tap of her stilettos on the stairs to the cellar. The fact that he knows she’s coming... I felt his fear...”

“I was tired of the woman always being the victim.”

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