Chapter 3
Linnie's POV
It was an unspoken rule in our house: Tamsin always came first.
If there was only one slice of cake left, a single toy, or a brand-new dress, it automatically went to her.
“You’re the older sister,” my parents would lecture. “Be a good example. Let her have it.”
That same toxic logic somehow bled into my relationship with Ansel. Even after we started dating, my parents insisted we drag Tamsin along to our dinners. I couldn't pinpoint exactly when the shift happened—the lingering glances, the way he’d subtly angle his phone screen away from me when it lit up.
But when I finally caught them making out on my parents' balcony, I was so blinded by rage I slapped them both across the face.
The fallout was swift. Tamsin immediately hooked up with a guy she knew from college and married him in a matter of weeks.
Meanwhile, Ansel dropped to his knees, begging me not to walk away. God help me, I couldn't stomach throwing away five years of history. Like an absolute idiot, I swallowed my pride and took him back.
But the second Tamsin’s marriage imploded, the whole family rushed to her rescue. Mom was even ready to weaponize her own kidney if it meant forcing me to surrender Ansel to her golden child.
Which brought us to now, standing outside Calloway's, the sting of Mom’s hand still hot across my cheek. Her arm lingered in the air from the slap.
I let out a dry, hollow laugh. “Mom, do you keep a running tally of how many times you’ve hit me for her sake?”
“Because you refuse to let your sister be happy!” she snapped. “He’s just a man, Linnie. Why do you insist on fighting her for him?”
She wasn't wrong about one thing: he was just a man. A man I should have walked away from years ago.
“Relax. I have zero interest in fighting her for a damn thing,” I said flatly. “I already have a husband.”
She looked at me like I’d lost my mind, completely unconvinced. But I didn't care. I was done wasting my breath.
Earlier that day, I got the news that Lorcan’s aunt had been admitted to the hospital. Since Lorcan and Clemmie were still navigating traffic from the airport, I’d swung by a florist and a gift shop, heading up early to keep her company.
I stepped out of the elevator, arms laden with flowers and a bakery box, only to walk dead into Ansel escorting Tamsin out of an exam room.
Ansel’s face, which had been stony back at the mall, immediately softened. He spotted the items in my arms and smirked.
“So, you finally decided to apologize,” he said, stepping closer. “But Tam hates lilies. You know she prefers peonies.” He shot a critical look at the bakery box. “And her morning sickness is brutal right now. Keep the chocolate croissants and cinnamon scones away from her.”
I stared at them. They actually believed I brought a peace offering.
Tamsin seamlessly slipped into her sweet, accommodating persona.
“It’s fine, Linnie,” she cooed, stepping up to grab my hand with wide, earnest eyes. “As long as you can admit you were out of line, I won't hold a grudge.”
She squeezed my fingers.
“Ansel and I already discussed it. Once the baby arrives, we're giving it to you. It’ll be yours and Ansel’s to raise. I’ll just pop in on weekends. That way, people will finally stop gossiping about your infertility.”
I arched an eyebrow. Wow. This was a whole new level of delusional.
Ansel puffed out his chest, completely satisfied with himself. “Tam is constantly looking out for you, Linnea. You should be thanking her. Honestly? You should feel a little guilty. You were careless and lost our baby, and the doctor literally said getting pregnant again was a long shot. This fixes everything.”
A violent tremor went through my hands.
I was completely done. Without a second thought, I hurled the bakery box and the flowers directly at his face.
“Do you have a shred of conscience left in your body, Ansel?!” I screamed. “If you hadn’t dumped me on the side of the highway in a flash flood and whipped the car around to go rescue her, my baby would still be alive!”
Just saying it out loud tore open the wound. Even now, the memory of the daughter I never got to hold snapped me awake in the dead of night, my face drenched in tears.
We had planned for her so carefully. Ansel had quit smoking. I gave up caffeine, ate perfectly, and slept on a strict schedule. And finally, she came.
Until our second wedding anniversary. Tamsin had called hysterically, claiming her husband was being cruel and threatening to kick her out.
Ansel didn't hesitate. He pulled over in a torrential downpour, forced me out onto the gravel shoulder, and told me to call an Uber. But no Uber was coming out in a storm like that.
By the time a passing stranger finally took pity on me and drove me to the ER, I was soaked to the bone and burning with a massive fever. I lost the baby anyway.
And when Ansel finally strolled into the hospital, he didn't cry. He just frowned.
“Tam's safety had to come first,” he’d told me, standing over my hospital bed. “If I had to do it all over again, I’d make the exact same choice. Linnie, we’ll have other babies. Don’t take it out on your sister.”
