“Paris?” she yells, opening the door. I didn’t even lock it in my haste. I walk to the door, stopping when I see her. She looks the same. Blond hair, a few shades darker than mine, the same blue eyes, and pale skin. I give her a hug.
“Hey,” I say.
“You look the same,” she says, grinning.
“So do you.”
“How was your flight?” I ask, helping her with her suitcase.
“Babe, let me grab that,” Grayson says.
“Grayson, this is London. London, this is Grayson,” I say. Grayson shakes her hand, touching it for only a second before stepping back, as if her touch burned. London tilts her head and looks at him, deep in thought as he takes her suitcase and drags it into the lounge room.
“He’s your boyfriend?” she asks.
“Yes, why?”
“No reason. Cute place you have here,” she says, looking around.
“Thanks. Can I get you something to drink?” I ask her as we walk into the kitchen.
“Yeah. Do you have any juice?” she asks, plopping down in one of the chairs. I nod and pour her some orange juice. Grayson doesn’t come back out so I go to my bedroom and find him sitting there, head in his hands. He looks up as soon as he hears me.
“Are you okay?” I ask him.
“Fine, just have a headache,” he says, forcing a smile.
“I’ll get you some pain killers,” I say, kissing him on the top of his head before heading into the kitchen to find some paracetamol.
“Everything okay?” she asks, sipping on her juice.
“Yep. You can sleep in my roommate’s bedroom. She said she will stay at her boyfriend’s for a few days.”
“That’s nice of her,” she says absently.
“Are you going to tell me why you’re here?” I ask, cutting to the chase.
She pouts. “Can’t a girl visit her big sister?”
I sigh. “Cut the shit, London. What do you want?”
She purses her lips. “My boyfriend broke up with me and kicked me out of his house. I have nowhere else to go, and no money. I messaged you when I first sensed something was going on. He met someone else,” she says, looking down, her hair covering her face like a curtain.
“Weren’t you working?” I ask her.
“No. He was supporting me. He was completely rich. All I have left is the jewellery he bought me when we were together.”
I look up and see Grayson standing there, leaning on the doorframe listening. His body is tense, his face drawn.
“Sorry, Gray. Here,” I say, handing him two pills and a bottle of water.
“Thanks, babe,” he says, taking them from me. “Can we talk for a second?”
“Sure,” I say, walking into my room. He closes the door behind us.
“We said we would be honest and truthful with one another,” he starts.
“We did,” I say, nodding for him to continue.
“When we met,” he says, looking broken. His voice is raw when he continues, “You looked so familiar.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, frowning.
“Once, when I went to Melbourne on business with my dad, I met a girl in a club. I brought her back to my hotel room, and then the next morning she was gone.” He pauses. “I thought you were her.”
I open my mouth and snap it shut. What?
“I don’t understand,” I mutter, shaking my head in confusion.
“When you were a virgin, I realized you weren’t her. That’s why I was so confused, and I walked out. I didn’t get it—you looked like her. Of course, it didn’t matter really—I was in love with you. I didn’t care that you weren’t her. I didn’t even know her. I just slept with her once. I didn’t even know her name or anything,” he says, wringing his hands together. “Fuck, I’m doing a shit job at trying to explain this. Bottom line is, I thought you were her. When you weren’t, I didn’t give a shit. I was just confused about it, because you looked so much like her. I didn’t even think about it again. When you mentioned you had a sister, I hoped that it wasn’t her…”
When it all hits me, my heart breaks. The pain in my chest is overwhelming, spreading throughout my body like a disease.
“You slept with London?” I whisper so quietly, I don’t even know if he heard me. London does look like me; there is no denying that. She’s younger by a year but we look the same age. “That’s why you chased after me? You thought you already had me? And what? I was playing a game?” I ask, my voice getting louder.
“I thought you were pretending, and then I thought you didn’t remember. When I found out you were a virgin, I realized I was completely wrong, but I was happy, because I’d found you…”
I rub my forehead, unable to believe this is happening to me.
“You wanted me to be her?” I say, blocking out all his other words.
“No! No, that’s not it at all. I love you. You’re beautiful, kind, and smart. You’re everything I could ever dream of in a woman. She’s… I’m so glad I met you, Paris. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“You slept with my sister,” I say in a small voice.
“Before I ever knew you existed,” he says, trying to take me into his arms to comfort me. Why does he always try to comfort me from pain he’s caused? Why does he do this to me? I wanted honesty. I demanded it from him. My secret came out and now his has. Except I don’t know how to take it. I don’t know how to react. I feel… broken.
“Paris, can you please listen to me?” he begs, going down on his knees before me. He leans his head against my stomach, silently pleading with me. He wants me to touch him. Body contact. Reassurance. I can’t offer him either. I take a step back, breaking the contact between the two of us.
“It’s in the past, Paris,” he says, his voice breaking.
“I know it’s in the past, but you chased after me thinking I was her. That means you wanted her again, not me.”
“I knew it wasn’t her after we made love!”
I crumble, the first tear falling. Grayson stares at my face, watching me. His expression mirrors my own.
“Fuck,” he curses. “Don’t cry, love, please don’t cry.”
“I. Want. To. Be. Alone,” I say, emphasising each word. I turn from him, unable to look at him any longer.
“Don’t do this, babe,” he pleads.
“Can you just give me this? I just want to be by myself. Please.”
I feel his heat behind me. His arms circle my waist from behind. “I love you. You. I know you, inside and out, and I love everything about you. You’re the one I fell for. I just had one night of sex with her. That’s it. Sex. No emotion.”
“Must have been good sex if you came back for seconds,” I snap.
“I don’t know how to get you to understand,” he mutters. “She pales in comparison, Paris. I love you, and I hope you can forgive me.”
He buries his face in my hair for a few seconds, places a kiss on my head and then walks out.
I slide into bed and start sobbing.
Chapter Twenty-One
“If I could go back in time I wouldn’t have screwed him,” London says, trying to cheer me up. She’s sitting on my bed with a tub of ice cream, trying to make me eat some.
“I want to hear your side of the story,” I say, sitting up against my pillows.
She winces. “Why torture yourself, sis?”
“Tell me,” I growl.
“Okay, okay. Jeez. I was at a club. I can’t even remember the name of it now. Met Grayson on the dance floor. By the way, I didn’t even know his name. We made out; things got a little hot and heavy so he took me back to his hotel room.” She stops, looking at me to see how I’m taking things. I actually feel like throwing up, each word cutting me like a knife, but I try to keep my face expressionless. “We had sex. We didn’t even talk really. He was hot. I was hot. That was the extent of things. You don’t need to get so upset, Paris. There was nothing there. Just some really good hot sex.” I throw my pillow at her. “Just being honest, babe,” she says, eating a spoon of ice cream.