The Girl Who Never Left

Was that the sister he talked about?

If only I had any clue that Bennett's so-called adorable little sister was Rosie, I would take back every single word I had ever said.

I did not even know he had a so-called little sister until the day Bennett and I tied the knot.

When he first mentioned Rosie, Bennett had that look of exasperated affection, telling me how cute she was.

He even promised I would fall for her charm the moment we met.

I was thrilled back then, vowing to love Rosie like my own blood.

However, to actually like that little sister? Yeah, right.

I swallowed the annoyance bubbling inside me.

I thought it was better to avoid the whole mess. So, I headed straight for the bedroom.

Our bedroom was still new; Bennett and I had not spent much time there.

However, standing in the master bathroom, staring at the army of shampoos, shower gels, and conditioners, I was floored.

All my stuff was still zipped up in my suitcase.

Where on earth did all those come from?

I had barely grabbed a shampoo bottle when Rosie's screech pierced the air from outside.

She glared at me, fuming.

"How dare you mess with my stuff!

"Bennett went through all the trouble to bring these back for me from abroad."

It hit me then—the shampoo in my hand was the same brand I had recently splurged on.

My hair had been a greasy, split-ended mess before the wedding, so I had begged a friend to snag me that miracle bottle from overseas.

Imagine my surprise when it vanished from my bathroom just two days later.

Anger flared up inside me like a match to a fuse.

I confronted Bennett, holding up the shampoo. "Isn't this the shampoo I bought for the wedding? How did Rosie end up with it?"

He gave me a half-hearted glance, then rushed to comfort a teary-eyed Rosie, his tone tinged with blame. "So what if it is? Rosie liked it, so I let her have it. It's not like it's something pricey."

I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt.

Sure, it was not expensive.

However, it meant the world to me before the wedding.

On the big day, I had endured sidelong glances for my unkempt hair.

"Bennett, that's mine. Since when do you get to hand out my stuff?"

That did not sit well with him. His face turned stormy, his brows knitted together, and his voice took on an edge. "What do you mean your stuff? Rosie's my sister!"

I nodded, feeling a headache coming on.

I was done arguing. I tried to kick them out of the master bedroom, but Rosie threw a fit, screaming and waving her arms. "This is my room! You're the one who should leave!

"Bennett, remember what you said? Your house is my house, and the best of everything is supposed to be mine!"

My eyes widened as a jolt of shock washed over my face.

Bennett's arms wrapped around an excited Rosie. He was whispering reassurances.

"It's yours, just like I promised. No one's going to take it from you."

My voice was high-pitched and shaky as I pointed at Bennett, my confusion turning into disbelief.

"This is supposed to be our room, our sanctuary. And you're just handing it to her? Where does that leave us?"

"We've got three bedrooms, Holly. We can sleep in any of those, right?

"It's just a bedroom, Holly. Don't be so petty. You've been on Rosie's case since dinner. She's young; she doesn't get it. As her sister, can't you let it slide just this once?"

His words cut me off, and I went quiet.

Petty?

On the first day of our marriage, that girl took over our room, and I was the petty one?

She was young?

A 24-year-old, already out in the real world, and he still called her young.

What a joke!

I could not stand another minute of their bickering. I spun on my heel, stormed into the guest room, and slammed the door shut behind me.

I thought Bennett would at least come knocking, trying to smooth things over.

However, the night dragged on, and not a peep from him, not even a lousy text.