Page 17 of It’s Me, but Different (Merriweather Sisters #3)

Esme

“Esme Torres speaking,” I answer while watching through the window as my children play with Lumi outside.

“This is Margaret Wilson, from Henderson they always do.

You'll have more money to keep them happy with the latest consoles and all those silly things they like.

I don't know, because I don't have children,” she adds, hanging up before I can respond.

I stare at the phone in my hand like an idiot. I have one afternoon left to decide my life.

But actually, the decision is already made.

These days at Silver Peaks, watching the happiness on my children's faces, have been special.

Seeing Ana Sofia enjoy herself while pushing herself to improve on the ski slopes or Theo lose that constant sadness he's carried since Luis's death…

has made me see reality. Money isn't everything.

I want to be present in their lives. I want them to grow up in a place where they can breathe fresh air and, above all, where they can be children.

Harper's offer is perfect. A job I'm passionate about, tranquility, a good place to raise my children, and enough money, considering how cheap it will be to live in Silver Peaks.

And also. Sloane.

Sloane, who seems to have matured.

Sloane, who seems to adore my children.

Sloane, who last night made me feel alive in a way I no longer remembered.

I just need to talk to Harper to clarify a couple of practical details and I'm ready to tell the Denver firm to keep their job offer. Because my heart is already here, at Silver Peaks.

I get up from the couch with a smile from ear to ear and leave the suite practically running toward Harper's office.

When I arrive, I hear voices and immediately recognize Sloane's laughter, that laughter that manages to make me feel butterflies in my stomach every time I hear it, as if I were a teenager. Great, so she'll be the first to know I'm staying.

“I have to admit it, Sloane,” I hear Harper say, “the plan worked perfectly.”

I stop dead. The plan?

“Yes, much better than I expected,” Sloane responds, and I hear her laughter again. “At first I thought she wouldn't accept, but from the first day...”

“Are you kidding?” her older sister interrupts. “From the first day, I knew it would be perfect. The way her eyes lit up when she saw the proposal... it was obvious she was going to bite.”

The world stops around me.

“And the best part is she hasn't even realized what's happening,” Harper continues. “She thinks all this arose naturally.”

Sloane laughs. That laughter that five minutes ago filled me with joy and now hurts as if someone were separating flesh from bone.

“River was right. Sometimes, the best plans are the ones that seem like perfect coincidences,” she adds.

I can't breathe.

I lean my back against the wall, and it feels too cold through my shirt, though not as cold as the sensation spreading through my chest. I tremble from head to toe while the last fragments of the conversation keep filtering through the door.

“Do you think she'll sign the agreement?” Harper asks.

“I'm sure. You can see she's desperate,” Sloane leaves the sentence hanging, though I don't think I could even hear what follows.

After what happened last night. After opening my heart to her. When she told me she loved me. When I believed her feelings were real.

Tears roll down my cheeks before I can stop them. I cover my mouth with my hand to muffle a sob that threatens to escape.

Everything fits with painful clarity. The hotel offer, too good to be true. The “casual” encounter with Sloane as the only ski instructor available that morning. Harper's convenient job proposal just when I was considering staying.

Even the sex?

Was it all just a game? A trap to hire me for less salary? I don't understand anything. I just know everything was calculated. Everything was a lie.

I manage to reach the elevator before my legs fail completely, and the instant the doors close, I collapse against the wall, letting the tears I've been holding finally break free.

I'm an idiot. A complete idiot.

“You're a bitch, Sloane Merriweather,” I mutter through my teeth.

The elevator opens on my floor, and I walk to my suite like a zombie.

I have to get out of here. Now.

But first, I need to make a call.

I breathe deeply and slowly let out the air, trying to calm myself while trembling as I dial Margaret Wilson's number.

“Margaret, this is Esme Torres,” I announce as soon as she picks up on the first ring.

“And? What's your decision? I suppose you're calling for that, right?”

“I accept the offer,” the words come out of my mouth like poison.

I don't want that job, I know it will be very hard on the kids, but I'll show the Merriweather sisters that they can't manipulate me, no matter how many millions they have in the bank.

“Send me the documents to sign as soon as possible.”

Suddenly, there's silence on the other end of the line.

“Really?” Margaret seems surprised by my decision. “What happened to all that shit about having more time for your kids and all that?”

“I've reconsidered my priorities,” I lie, while wiping tears with the back of my hand and trying not to sob. “I could start Monday if necessary. As you said, the kids will adapt, I'm sure of it.”

“Perfect. I'll send you the contracts by email within an hour at most. And let me welcome you as a partner at the firm, Esme. I'm convinced you'll be a great addition.”

When I hang up, I stare at the phone for several minutes. I just accepted a job I know will make me a miserable person for many years. I just condemned my children to a lifestyle they don't want. All for more money and to shut up the Merriweather sisters.

But I can't stay here. Not after this.

I head to the bedroom like an automaton and start taking clothes out of the closet. My hands tremble so much I can barely hold the hangers.

“Mom?” Ana Sofia's voice startles me from the door. “What are you doing?”

“We're leaving, honey. Pack your things,” I murmur, lowering my head to avoid looking into her eyes.

“Leaving?” Theo appears behind his sister, with wide eyes. “Now? But we're supposed to have dinner with Lumi!”

“An emergency came up,” I lie, hating myself for having to do it. “We have to be in Denver tomorrow morning. We're leaving for the airport now.”

“What kind of emergency?” Ana Sofia insists with that annoyingly intuitive sense kids sometimes have. “Did something happen to Grandma?”

“No, honey. It's… it's complicated. Pack your bags, please. We're leaving in half an hour.”

“But Mom!” Theo protests. “We haven't finished our vacation! And Lumi was going to show us her secret place tonight!”

“We're leaving. Pack your bags. Now.”

“Can we at least say goodbye to Sloane?” Ana Sofia asks with tears in her eyes. “Please, Mom!”

“NO!” I shout, making my children jump when they hear my tone of voice.

The twins look at me as if they don't know me. And they're probably right, because I don't recognize myself either.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to shout,” I whisper. “Just... just pack your bags, please.”

They go to their room in silence, heads down, and I can hear worried whispers. They're probably thinking I've gone crazy.

When we go down to the hotel lobby, it's late and there are few people. Perfect.

“Wait here,” I tell them, seating them in a comfortable armchair by one of the fireplaces. “I have to do something at the reception first.”

I approach the counter, where a young girl smiles politely when she sees me.

“How can I help you?”

“Could you deliver this to Sloane Merriweather?” I ask, handing her a white envelope.

I just wrote the cruelest letter of my life. Every word chosen to hurt. Full of hate. Every sentence is designed to wound as much as they've wounded me.

“Sloane,

Congratulations. Your plan worked perfectly. The naive 20-year-old college student no longer exists, but apparently I'm still stupid enough to fall for your games.

Thanks for reminding me why I don't trust people with money. You've always believed you can buy whatever you want. Even feelings.

Well, surprise. That's not the case anymore. I won't make the same mistake twice. You've made it clear that you have indeed changed, but for the worse. Now you've outdone yourself. You're the most despicable being I've ever met in my entire life.

PS: Give Harper my thanks for the performance. She almost convinced me the job was real. She's right, sometimes the best plans are the ones that seem like perfect coincidences.

Esme”

“Of course, Miss Torres,” the receptionist says, storing the envelope in a cubbyhole. “Do you need anything else?”

“We have to leave, I need you to prepare the bill.”

“Tonight? But your reservation is until tomorrow...”

“Something unexpected came up,” I interrupt very seriously.

Twenty minutes later, I'm driving a small rental car loaded with suitcases, driving away from Silver Peaks on a narrow, winding road.

In the back seat, Ana Sofia and Theo have fallen asleep. They haven't stopped crying while packing their things, and they're tired.

I've taken them out of paradise. Away from laughter and hot chocolate. From ski lessons with a woman they thought loved them.

A woman I also thought loved me.

I stop the car for a few moments when I reach a lookout point. Through the rearview mirror, I can see Silver Peaks' lights shining in the distance like a fairy tale. Except it's a fairy tale with an evil witch included.

“Never again,” I whisper into the night while crying as I start the car again.