A week after my wedding ended with my sister dead, one of her co-workers phoned me informing me that Claire left a phone for me at the office. Little did I know that picking up this phone would mean getting the last thing from her, only to realize that whatever was in there would change my life forever.
That morning, Ryan kissed me good-bye before going to work, placing a bakery box on the table saying he would stick by me no matter what. People always commented about how lucky I was to have him by my side; he was the type of husband who bought flowers. He prepared meals for me and went with me to arrange everything at her funeral, looking like the rock that everyone wished me. Still, somehow, I was not at peace since all I could see was my sister in front of me when closing my eyes.
My sister had always been complicated, vocal when all others were silent, and brave when the rest of us opted to play it safe. She would call me the family brochure because I was forever smiling in order to keep the peace, and I called her impossible since debating with her was akin to standing inside a hurricane. But despite all this, there existed an uncompromising, intense love for one another; she would know something is wrong whenever I had missed lunch or seemed fatigued.
It was Christmastime when Ryan first came home to meet my family. Everyone fell in love with him within the span of twenty minutes, except for Claire, who entered the dining hall and locked eyes with Ryan for a few silent moments. The whole night was spent with her quizzing him about his past experiences, numerous move-ins, and different job positions he held. Finally, after confronting her in the kitchen, demanding her not to bother him any further, she just turned towards the dining room and asked me to consider asking myself what made her do so.
As my wedding approached, things became progressively worse. At a Sunday dinner at my parents’ home, Claire suddenly laid down her fork and told me that I should not marry him. Actually, I thought she was joking because I could not believe she could be serious. Mom berated her, Dad told her to stop, and when she looked around the table, she knew that no one wished to hear her say anything else. Before dessert, she left the room and said things that made everyone uncomfortable.
On the night of my bachelorette party, a few days later, Claire came in a hurry late in her business attire. Her appearance was frantic and desperate as she begged me to call off the wedding. Under the stares of my friends and burning with shame, I told her that she was simply being jealous and ruining my night. Her face fell with profound hurt, but she tried one final plea claiming she was trying to protect me. I demanded to know from what. She shook her head and said she couldn’t, so I pointed to the door and told her to leave. Those were the last words I ever spoke to my sister.
It was a beautiful day for the wedding, but Claire never showed up and didn’t respond despite several attempts at calling her. Mom assured that she just needed to calm down, and I did my best to concentrate on my guests before receiving a call from my mother and destroying my dreams. A car accident occurred on the rainy road along the river. All I can remember now is some pieces of lights, dirt, and rain water pouring onto me from my wedding outfit. She was discovered the next day, and the honeymoon turned into a funeral with casseroles and condolences.
However, when her coworker Megan called me about a week later, she sounded very scared as she asked me to come to the office because Claire had left a phone and a note. The journey of forty-five miles was a never-ending blur of hope and fear. Megan appeared pale as she gave me Claire’s, among which a note that read, “Alice, If you’re reading this, then it is time for the truth.”
I held my breath as I turned on the gallery and hit play. Ryan came into view, slightly younger but still recognizably so, placing a ring on Claire’s hand and kissing her. My legs almost buckled as yet another video automatically played, depicting Ryan seated way too close to another woman, and then another one played, and then another one after that. Other women, other locations, but all the same deceit. The videos made by Claire were hurriedly put together, like she had been in a rush to gather any evidence she could. It all clicked into place—now I understood the warnings, the fear, and why she couldn’t just tell my family the truth.
I was crying so badly during the journey back home that I even stopped twice along the way, but finally, by nightfall, I decided. When Ryan arrived at our place with roses and cupcakes, he discovered that our families were already there waiting for him in the living room. Upon seeing Claire’s phone in my hand, the color of his face changed drastically. He sat down, and then I started playing those videos one after another.
Ryan gulped and said he could explain, and slowly the truth came out. Before he even met me, he had dated Claire, and it was serious. After he realized I was his sister’s ex, he chose to say nothing. When she tried confronting him about it, he assured her that no one would believe her. He was correct since our family had treated her honesty like a crime since the start. Seeing my parents realize what a weight Claire had been carrying was heartbreaking. However, as Ryan reached for me, breaking down as he pled for me not to leave because he truly did care for me, it did not matter.
After packing the suitcase, I stopped at the door, because there were some endings which deserved witnesses. I explained to him how he made me believe that my sister is the evil one who ruined my marriage and walked away.
Three weeks have already gone past, we are divorced now, and I live in an apartment furnished by pieces of various items with squeaky beddings. Although not so great, at least it is true. I remember how my sister loved people wholeheartedly, even after we tried our best to make it difficult for her. And I wish I could go back and tell her how I wished I believed her. But it does not work that way, grief only gives us what is left behind. She was unable to save my marriage or save herself, but she was able to save the rest of my life from becoming a miserable experience.
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