Smooth and calm, just keep your cool.
Patting the air, I mirror her steps, becoming a wall between her and Dalia. I don't even want Sandy looking at her.
Her lids drop, pupils turning to pinpricks as she takes in deep and heavy breath like a bull ready to charge. “Do you have any idea what I've done for you?” she asks, turning all her attention on me. “Do you know what it feels like to see you kissing her, or finding out you fucking knocked her up? Hm, Lyle? Do you know what that feels like?”
Sandy throws her arms out against my chest and gives me a hard shove. “I've done everything right. I've done everything to be perfect for you! And you never fucking noticed! You were too fucking blind to see it when it was right in front of your fucking face!”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I ask, brows furrowing.
“Me! You never saw me!” Slapping her hands against her chest, her eyes jump open, exposing all the whites. “I've been standing right in front of you! No one knows you better than me, Lyle! But instead you give yourself to her! To her! Why? Why haven't you ever looked at me the same way you look at her?” Her voice is straining as she holds back drunken tears.
“Sandy, you're my sister. I love you as my sister, that's it. That's all it will ever be. I don't know where you got this idea in your head, but our relationship will never be more than that.” Slicing the air with my hand, I look back at Dalia, and reach for her hand. “With Dalia it's a different kind of love. Dalia owns my heart and my soul. I love her with everything, and I always have.”
Looking back at Sandy, I don't see understanding in her eyes. I don't see compassion or even a hint of longing to have what we have. All I see is hate and anger.
Her lip curls up like a rabid animal, her eyes turn black, and her chest puffs up as she holds her breath. Her nostrils begin to move, flaring wide in and out as she finally starts to breathe.
“It doesn't matter, none of this shit matters. I don't care how happy you two think you are, or how much you want to have your perfect house with a white picket fence. I'm going to ruin your fucking lives. You hear me? I'm going to fucking destroy you.” Sandy jabs a finger in the air, stabbing it at both of us. Her eyes flick back and forth, bursting with flames.
Storming off, Sandy goes back inside, slamming the heavy door behind her.
This is going to be bad. I know instantly she's going to do something rash, something thoughtless. And it's going to hurt at least one of us.
“Shit, she's going to go do something stupid.” Looking back at Dalia, I squeeze her hand and give it a little tug. “I need to get in there before she does something she won't be able to take back.”
Dalia nods, braiding her fingers deeper into mine. “All right,” she says. “Let's go.”
“You don't have to do that, you can stay up here, relax, let me handle her. I understand if you'd rather—”
“What? No, I'm not going to stay here and hide, Lyle. I'm coming with you.” I can see the seriousness in her expression. “I'm not going to let you do this alone.”
We both run back inside. Her hand is still securely in mine, and I'm tempted to just drag her to my car and get us the hell out of here. I'm tired of this shit, I'm done doing damage control for my sister.
I don't have the energy to keep cleaning up her messes and holding her hand. But this is my company too, and I won't risk her destroying everything we built.
As I throw the doors open to the party, and run into the room, I'm afraid I'm too late. Sandy is standing on a table, her makeup is smeared down her cheeks, and her hair is tangled and messy.
Her gaze moves across the room, stopping on Dalia and me. “Speak of the devil,” she says, holding out her hand.
The entire room turns in our direction, every set of eyes is gawking, and waiting to find out where this little show is going.
Letting go of Dalia, I dart to Sandy. “What the hell are you doing?” I ask harshly through grit teeth. “Get down from there.”
“No, Lyle! This is what you asked for, this is what you wanted right? You want to destroy everything we built for her. This,” she snarls, leaning over closer to my face, “this is your fault.” Standing up tall, she holds her hands in the air, and silences the room. “Everyone! Can I have your attention? I have an announcement to make!” Dalia claps her hands with an evil grin. “I have some wonderful news to share. . .”
She purses her lips and smiles big, holding her hands up next to cheek. “Lyle Vox, the man we all know and love, the one who holds his reputation high. . .” Sandy swipes an open hand in my direction, driving every set of eyes my way. “Well, he just got our new employee pregnant. Can you believe it? He knocked up Dalia Greene.” Her words are slurred as she sways side to side.
Glancing back at Dalia, her cheeks are red, and she looks like she's about to cry. Her breathing is picking up, and she's starting to shy away, backing away slowly as everyone stares at her.
Sucking in a big breath of air, I know exactly what to do. I'll play her game, but we both know, I can play it better.
Nodding, I lift an arm
