Terrible thoughts raced through my mind, thoughts that made me ashamed of myself.
Ben could not possibly find her more attractive than me.
He had to have another reason for marrying her.
Looking back, it hurts to know how close I came to the truth.
The following morning, I smiled and helped Rosie create a wedding inspiration board on Pinterest.
“You’ll be my maid of honor,” she told me. “Promise me.”
Part of me kept expecting our parents to interfere.
Instead, they smiled and said Ben would take good care of Rosie.
The wedding was small.
Ben wore a gray suit and cried when Rosie walked down the aisle.
My parents continued smiling.
“You chose well,” Dad said to Ben, patting his shoulder.
The comment hurt.
I watched Ben slide the ring onto Rosie’s finger.
And I wondered whether I had ever truly known my best friend.
Three years passed.
Eventually, I moved beyond my hurt feelings and met a wonderful man.
Rosie and Ben moved into a small yellow house near the edge of town.
Every morning at nine, Rosie called to tell me what she was wearing.
Then came the call I had always prayed for.
“I’m going to be a mom,” Rosie whispered. “We’re having twins.”
I dropped onto the floor of my apartment, crying and laughing together.
All her life, people had claimed Rosie would never have a normal future.
Now she was going to become a mother.
I should have known happiness that enormous would not arrive alone.
The pregnancy became difficult.
At thirty-four weeks, Rosie was rushed to the hospital.
The doctors gave us a grim prognosis.
The waiting room clock moved past midnight.
I stared at the double doors through which they had taken Rosie, willing them to open with good news.
Ben sat beside me, one knee bouncing uncontrollably.
“She’s going to be okay,” I whispered, more for myself than for him. “Rosie is strong.”
Ben pressed both palms over his eyes.
A sound escaped him, somewhere between a prayer and a sob.
Then a doctor came through the double doors.
Ben jumped to his feet.
The doctor’s expression told me everything before he spoke.
“She’s lost a lot of blood. We’ve stabilized the babies, but Rosie is crashing. We’re doing everything we can, but you need to prepare yourselves.”
He vanished behind the doors again.
Ben stood motionless, swaying slightly.
I placed a hand against his back.
My best friend.
My brother.
“Ben, look at me. Rosie chose you because you make her feel safe. Give her that same strength now.”
“My promise,” he whispered.
Before I could ask what he meant, he turned toward me.
Something unfamiliar filled his eyes.
“I need to talk to you,” he said. “Away from here.”
He guided me down the corridor to a small alcove near the stairs.
“I made Rosie a promise,” Ben said. “Before they took her back. She said, ‘If I don’t wake up, you tell my everything.'”
He reached inside his jacket.
“It’s time for you to understand why I really married her.”
I grabbed the wall for balance.
“Please, don’t ruin four years of watching my sister smile because of you.”
Every dark suspicion I had ever buried came flooding back.
He had done it for money.
He had married Rosie because he could not have me, and she was the closest substitute.
Ben removed a sheet of paper and extended it toward me.
“I made a promise, and I’m going to keep it. Just… it’s much worse than you think,” he said. “You’d better sit down.”
My fingers trembled as I took it.
The letterhead caught my attention first.
It belonged to my father’s law firm.
Then I noticed the payment schedule.
A six-figure amount.
Money promised to Ben if he married Rosie.
My parents’ signatures.
Ben’s signature.
A scream escaped me before I could stop it.
I believed I understood exactly what I was holding, but I would soon learn there was far more behind it.
“You SOLD yourself to marry my sister?”
“Explain WHAT, Ben?” My voice cracked against the walls. “That you took money from my parents to marry Rosie? She is fighting for her life in there! And you stood beside her at the altar with a check in your pocket?”
Ben slid down against the wall.
Then he said something that stole the air from my lungs.
He was crying.
“I never cashed a single one,” he whispered. “Every check they sent went into an account in Rosie’s name. Every dollar. She’ll have it when she needs it. Every penny is hers.”
I desperately wanted to believe him.
But something still did not fit.
“Then why sign it? Why put your name on something so disgusting?”
Ben stared at the floor.
The name he said meant nothing to me.
But the way he spoke it weakened my knees.
I sank onto the tile across from him because my legs could no longer support me.
