“‘An intimate source close to Charlotte Weston,’” Libby says, her voice trembling. “Who could it be?”
My stomach sinks. All the positive press in the article totally makes it look like I traded private photos and insider information about Libby and Edward’s relationship in exchange for app publicity.
It makes it look like I was the source.
twenty-four
“Libby,” I say. “You have to believe me. I’m not behind this, I swear. I promised Edward I would never talk to the press, and I meant it—not even for publicity.”
Libby starts chewing on a cuticle. I reach over and slap her hand away from her mouth.
“I know you would never sell me out.”
Relief washes over me. “Oh, thank God,” I say. “Thank you for believing me.”
“But Edward does think you sold us out to help launch your app,” she says. “He was beside himself: I’d never heard him like that. He kept saying over and over that trust is the most important thing, and if he can’t trust you, then he can’t trust me.”
I stare at her. “And that’s why he broke up with you?”
She looks down, picking at her cuticle. “His mum was having a fit about it. You know how close they are.” I can at least understand that. After marrying Edward’s dad, Queen Madeline spent years dealing with people selling her out from all sides—her own brother even wrote a book about her.
“Right.”
“He said that if you were willing to publish photos of us just to get publicity for your business, then he can’t have you in his life.” Libby crosses her arms against her chest, looking embarrassed. “He wanted me to choose. He said if I wanted him in my life, there was no place for you, too.”
My heart sinks. “Oh, Libby,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry.”
A fresh wave of tears wells up in her eyes, a thin trail snaking down her cheek.
“I can’t believe he dumped you over this. You had nothing to do with it, obviously. It’s temporary insanity. He’s not thinking straight.”
“He didn’t dump me,” she says. “I dumped him.”
I’m so shocked that I drop her phone on the carpet.
“I told him”—she breaks into tears again—“I told him that there was no way you’d ever speak to a reporter, and if he couldn’t trust my word, then there were bigger issues in our relationship. And if he was going to make me choose between him and you, I’ll choose you every time. You’re my sister.” She sniffles and wipes her nose. I reach over to the Kleenex box on her bedside table and pluck one out, handing it to her.
“You chose me over him?” I ask, my voice sounding small.
“Of course I did, silly.” She puts her index finger to her lips, kissing it twice, and then holds her finger out toward mine. “Sisters forever, right?”
I repeat the gesture, feeling like I might explode with love and gratitude. “Sisters forever.”
I pull her back into my arms for another hug.
“He’s an idiot,” I say. “If he’s willing to be without you for a single second, he’s an idiot.”
“I didn’t think he’d take me up on it,” she says. “I thought he would believe me.”
“Boys are stupid.”
“He’s not stupid, though. He’s smart, and kind, and funny, and . . .” She stops, taking a deep breath to compose herself. “But it’s in the past. He was going to break my heart eventually, right? It’s not like we were going to live happily ever after. We’re too young.” Libby’s brave tone doesn’t match her hurt face.
I hear a phone vibrating. “Is that yours or mine?” I say, searching on the floor for her dropped phone. I find it in a pile of uncharacteristically unfolded clothes and I glance at the screen.
“It’s from Edward! It says, ‘Please, Libby.’”
“He won’t stop texting,” she says sadly.
“So text him back! It’s not over!”
“It is over. Read them.”
I enter her passcode—our childhood dog Leonardo DiCaprio’s birthday—and scroll through the text exchange from this morning.
EDWARD: I can’t believe u threw me out.
LIBBY: I can’t believe you wouldn’t listen to me, so we’re even.
EDWARD: She sold us out. Doesn’t that mean anything to u???
LIBBY: I told you ten times already that Charlotte would NEVER sell me out. It had to be somebody else.
EDWARD: She needs publicity for her business. She’s the only person who had those photos.
LIBBY: Then somebody stole them. I don’t know what to tell you.
EDWARD: Please don’t do this.
LIBBY: I’m not DOING anything! You’re the one who wants me to choose! It’s not fair.
LIBBY: I can’t believe you don’t know me better than that. She’s my sister. You can’t make me choose.
EDWARD: Looks like u chose already
LIBBY: Guess so.
EDWARD: Please, Libby
It’s hurtful reading Edward’s texts. I thought he knew both of us better than that.
“So, you see?” Libby says. “What am I supposed to say to that? I’m not dating a guy who asks me to choose between him and my family. That’s seriously messed up.”
I nod. “Yeah. But that doesn’t make it any easier.”
She looks sad. “No, it doesn’t.”
“I’m proud of you. And I’m really sorry, Libs.”
“It’s not your fault,” she says, gnawing on a cuticle again. For once, I don’t bother trying to correct her.
The two of us sit in silence. I think back to my conversation with Edward in my room the night I discovered Libby was transferring to Sussex Park. When we started talking about privacy and photos, his entire demeanor changed. I realize I’ve never told Libby that story.
“Something happened with me and Edward right before you got here in the fall.”
She looks wary. “Okay . . .”
“We were in my room, hanging out or whatever”—obviously, I gloss over this part—“and I tried to take a selfie of the two of us. He freaked out and got really cold—almost rude. It was like he became a totally different person.”
“He’s over-the-top when it comes to the press and his privacy.”
“No, I know. I’m just saying—clearly somebody set me up. If we can find out who it was, he’ll have to believe you and then he’ll know we didn’t betray his privacy, right?”
“Yeah, but what then? So he apologizes? We get back together—and then he loses it the next time a story appears in the press about him? When does it end?”
“It can’t be over,” I say, feeling a flash of frustration as my competitive juices kick in. “Somebody set us up. We can’t take this sitting down. You and Edward are perfect for each other.”
“The perfect guy wouldn’t ask his girlfriend to reject her family.”
“Okay, true. But the perfect girl wouldn’t dump her boyfriend without showing empathy. She should at least try to understand where he’s coming from. Right?”
Libby looks unconvinced. “Empathy’s a two-way street.”
“Look, Edward thought you were the one person in the world he could be safe with. You’re, like, in on all the state secrets—he’s breaking all the rules for you, right? So, he feels betrayed and he’s not handling it perfectly. But it doesn’t mean you should end it forever. If it’s a solid relationship—a real relationship—you fight and you fix it and you become stronger. It doesn’t mean running away.”