After being betrayed by her ex-boyfriend and her sister, Yuliana Darling packed up and moved to the other side of the country. Consoled by her bookstore and her patrons, she lives a modest and simple life.
That is, until she gets an invitation to at...
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Yuly's eyes barely left her phone screen as her finger scrolled down her sister's Instagram page—a page she had unblocked solely for the purpose of this clandestine stalking. The familiarity of her own reflection in every post contrasted sharply with the foreign life her sister led. "What do you want me to say? That she's hideous? Mia, we have the same face."
Jamilah Heart was a woman of culture, worldly and well-traveled. Her long, black hair cascaded down her face in elegant ringlets, her eyes radiating joy in every photo Yuly scrutinized. Jamilah's travels took her to Milan, her vacations were spent in SoHo. And in every frame that wasn't about drinks, meals, or her friends, there he was—James, his honey-brown gaze filled with adoration. The sight tied a knot in Yuly's stomach, but as if possessed, she couldn't stop looking. Her sister was living a life Yuly had only read about, and she was doing it all with the man Yuly had once loved more than she loved herself.
"This was a mistake," she muttered to herself. And she knew it was. She thought she was over this, but she clearly wasn't. "She's..."
"She's what?" Mia's voice cut through her pity party.
"Happy," Yuly replied, her resignation evident. "She's so happy she glows. I shouldn't have listened to you. What was the point of this? To rub it in my face?"
"How was I supposed to know she'd still... look like you? Don't they say evil never prospers? She shouldn't be prospering, it's not the way of the world."
But wasn't it? Yuly rolled her eyes, leaning against a rack of vintage clothes as she scrolled further. "I don't think that's—," an accidental slip sent her finger slipping, and suddenly, she saw a terrifying red heart. "Oh my god, I liked it!"
Not just any picture. A picture of Jamilah and James sharing a kiss in front of the Eiffel Tower unironically captioned "baecation". A two-year-old picture. Panic set in, her mind racing with the thought that Jamilah would know. She'd know she'd gotten the invitation, she'd know Yuly had been stalking her page, and— "oh my god, oh my god"
"You what?" Mia gasped, her voice a high-pitched squeak. "Well, unlike it! What the hell? Hurry up before she sees it!"
But it was already too late. Yuly didn't even get a chance to take it back before a notification flashed across her screen. "Shit, shit, shit, she sent me a message!" The anxiety in her voice was palpable. Shoppers in the thrift store cast puzzled glances her way, but Yuly was oblivious.
"What? What does it say?"
In an instant, another message popped up across the screen. Fucking hell. "I don't know!" Yuly rushed in a whisper, tossing her phone into the cart in a desperate attempt to distance herself from the impending disaster. She had only glimpsed a few words: something along the lines of 'Yuly, I'm so glad you reached out to me,' and 'I missed you' and—and God, was Milah really so dense?
