Leah has always had a fractured relationship with her sister, Blair. But when Blair pops over for a visit, Leah thinks it’s time to finally mend their relationship. Until Leah overhears an intriguing conversation between Blair and her friend.

My sister and I have been through it all—we’ve been extremely close, but we’ve also been at each other’s throats. As much as we’ve tried over the years, we’re just not that compatible. But now that we’re adults, when Blair reached out to me, I couldn’t help but think that we would mend our fractured relationship.

Or so I thought.

Growing up, it was always Blair and me against our parents—sure, we had our squabbles like siblings do, but underneath it all, we knew that we only had each other.

But Blair had this weird belief that what was mine was also hers. This little habit of hers extended to taking my boyfriend in high school, too.

“He told me that you broke up! It’s not my fault, Leah!” she said slyly at a pep rally, waving her pompoms in the air.

“You should have asked me,” I said, shaking my head at her.

“We are sisters, Lee,” she said. “Everything that’s yours also belongs to me!”

Even back then, I knew that as much as I loved Blair, trust wasn’t something that could come easily with her.

Life eventually pulled us in different directions.

Blair headed off to Mexico for her “great adventure,” where she was going to teach English at different schools. I went to culinary school, found love, and started a family.

The distance was good for us — we saw each other every few years, often when Blair needed a reminder that she had family to come home to. As the years flew by, I looked forward to our visits more, thinking that we had finally grown up and moved past our childhood rivalry.

Then, out of the blue, Blair decided to visit.

Pick me up at the airport, Sis! She texted. I’ll send you the time!

I was thrilled. My daughter had recently taken up painting, which was a hobby that Blair had when she was a child, too.

So, I picked Blair up, and the energy was just right. We sang in the car, we laughed, and we reminisced. It was everything I needed.

“Can I stay with you?” Blair asked when we stopped for matcha.

“Of course, you can,” I said. There was nowhere else for her to go; our parents had passed on years ago.

It was about a week into her visit when Blair showed her true colors.

I worked as a head chef at one of the hotels in town. It was a fancy gig with long hours — Blair being home allowed me to feel less guilty about leaving my daughter in after-school care.

Instead, she got dropped off at home, and Blair entertained her.

One day, I was passing by Blair’s room and heard her talking on speaker.

“So, do you know how you’re going to do it?” a woman asked.

“Of course, Mari,” Blair said. “Tomorrow, Leah will leave the house for her shift, and I’ll have Harry and the house to myself.”

I peeked into the guest room, now covered in Blair’s clothes, to see her painting her nails with her back to the door.

“How do you think she would react to you taking her husband?”

“Why should he be any different? Leah and I share everything! Even her daughter just loves me. I’ll have a ready-made family for me!” she laughed loudly.

My stomach sank. I felt sick.

I waited, fuming, until she left for her daily jog.

“I have to stay in shape, Sis,” she said, helping herself to my gym clothes.

The moment she was out the door, humming along to the music from her earphones, I knew it was time to end her visit.

I went into the guest room, packing all of her belongings into the suitcases she brought —finding my own clothes in the mix. I left everything on the porch and continued to cook dinner for my family.

When she came back, I heard her stamping her feet and mumbling outside.

“Why are all my things outside?” she demanded, walking into the kitchen.

“We’re done!” I said, my voice harder than I expected. “You need to leave. Now.”

She looked at me, really looked at me, and for a second, I thought I saw a flicker of the sister I used to know. But then she just scoffed.

She walked to the fridge and helped herself to an apple and a bottle of water.

“Fine,” she said. “I’ll leave.”

“And you won’t come back,” I said. “I don’t want you around my family.”

At those words, Blair flinched. But she walked outside and sat on the front step, calling someone. I watched her from the kitchen window while I cooked.

After about ten minutes, my sister drove off in the back of a cab. I haven’t seen her since, and as horrible as it is, I’m fine not having her around.

I still don’t understand the need for her wanting my life, especially when she fit so well as an aunt and sister-in-law. But the thought of history repeating itself, and Blair taking my husband was too devastating for me. I knew that even if I confronted her properly, I would never trust her.

I couldn’t move past this.

Now, she’s out of our lives forever.


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