I was getting married in three hours. I’d suddenly developed this awful headache, and told my hairstylist to give me a second.
I must have fallen asleep.
Someone was shrieking rather loudly in my ears, and also shaking me persistently.
“LOU? LOU! Wake up, Louise! Oh, God!”
I opened my eyes and everything was so bright, it took me a while before I realized that I was bound and gagged, in my underwear. My mother was in tears, in shock, and a long moment passed before I noticed that we were Inside Missy’s closet.
Missy was my dead twin sister.
We had gone swimming one night, while on a family trip to Bali, and the tide had swept us in. And I had lost track of time and woken up to find Missy gone. She’d stayed gone. The’d never found a body. We had a closed casket funeral for her, with fourteen-year-old me clinging to my mother’s arm, both of us inconsolable.
It had been ten years since.
The only thing that I happened to register now, at this point, was my very terrified mother asking, “But who did Sean get married to? We all thought it was obviously you! She even called me Momsicle!” The only person – apart from me – who ever called our mother that, was Missy. Who we held a freaking funeral for. Ten bloody years ago.
Sean is – was – my fiancé. Sean was also Missy’s teenage crush. Missy and Sean never happened because of the incident. I’d never meant to fall in love with Sean – I didn’t – but fate has awful ways of meddling with people’s lives and he’d proposed to me on my twenty fourth birthday, after three years of dating.
I looked at the date – February 14 – and realized that he was probably on his way to Florence. With his new wife. Who looked exactly like me.