Envy on the Edge
Yes, this is precisely whats needed! Hell never realise that its not his fiancée before him
Anne stood before her gilded bedroom mirror, scrutinising her reflection with unwavering attention. Carefully, she reached up to tuck a stray lock of chestnut hair behind her ear. Her heart gave a nervous, delighted flutterwhat she saw surpassed even her boldest hopes. The makeup, the hair, the poiseeverything, every nuance and detail, copied to perfection. Anne held her breath; with her sisters favourite blue dress, even their mother would be hard-pressed to tell them apart.
A quick smile flickered across her lips before she composed herself, glancing at the clock upon the mantelpiece. The hands crept steadily towards the appointed hourRupert would arrive in twenty minutes. Annes nerves tingled, her pulse quickening. Everything must go flawlesslyno wasted gestures, no misplaced words. If Rupert so much as suspected a thing, her painstaking scheme would dissolve at once, and her sister would win again, as she always did.
Taking a deep breath to still her trembling fingers, Anne made for the door. The bell peeled just as her hand rested upon the brass handle. Prepared, she opened the door wide. At Ruperts appearance, she lit up with a warm, feather-light smile, her eyes reflecting gentle encouragement.
Rupert, hello! she greeted softly, her voice wrapped in the same gentle hush shed observed countless times from her sister, Mary.
Without waiting, she rose onto her toes and pressed a fleeting kiss to his cheekexactly as shed rehearsed, neither more nor less. No unnecessary flamboyance; everything by the script.
Come inwould you like some coffee? she asked, stepping aside with casual grace, as though this were nothing but an everyday evening.
For a moment Rupert frowned, searching her face as if looking for a hidden meaning in her manner. But a small curve played at the corner of his mouthhe sensed something was afoot. What exactly did Marys sister intend, mimicking her so precisely? Rather than confront the trick, Rupert played along, offering a nod and following Anne into the homely sitting room.
Anne busied herself in the kitchen, arranging cups and saucers with hurried, unfamiliar care. Her cheeks ached from maintaining that gentle, angelic smileso unlike her usual expression. She snuck quick peeks at the bottle of fine claret sitting on the shelf. The wine waited for its moment, when shed invite Rupert to relax with a glass.
Anne knew he rarely touched drink, his constitution averse to much alcohol. But in good company, he might indulge in a single glass. That, she thought, would be enoughto help him loosen up, to erode a little of his usual watchfulness, giving her a gleam of hope that her plan might succeed.
Rupert, meanwhile, observed from the table, arms folded. His gaze was a mixture of amusement and curiosity. Eventually, unable to contain himself, he spoke, his tone calm:
Anne, why all this fuss? And wheres Mary? If youre after a prank, its not exactly inspired.
Anne froze, searching for words. For a heartbeat she looked uncertain, then swiftly recovered, pasting on her smile and speaking as evenly as she could.
How did you guess? Was I really so careless? And no, its not a joke, more of an experiment. Mary doesnt know a thing about it.
Rupert raised an eyebrow, toying with his coffee cup, intrigued despite himself.
You may be twins, but youre nothing alike. How could anyone confuse you?
Without waiting for a response, he drew out his mobile and fired off a swift message to his fiancée, asking her whereabouts. The glow from the screen briefly lit his face before he tucked it away.
So, whats the aim of your experiment? he repeated gently.
Anne shifted on her chair, studying the steam rising from her tea. After a bracing sip, she began, a little more animated:
People are always muddling us up. You say were different, but even our own mother cant often tell the difference if were dressed alike. Same frocks, same hairstylesits uncanny.
She paused as unwelcome memories surfaced, but continued, voice tight.
Sometimesits painful. Especially when it comes to things of the heart. Thereve been all sorts of consequences. Once, my own beau thought he was meeting me, but ended up talking to Mary by mistake. Or Marys tried to chat with one of your friends, only to hear things that werent meant for her.
Why not just change your hairstyle? Rupert asked, tilting his head. Annes refusal to alter her looks had often come up; Mary had mentioned as much. It had seemed Anne took secret satisfaction in their being interchangeable, and Mary had simply gone along.
Anne wrinkled her nose with mock distaste.
Thats dull. We promised one another not to change our appearances until we finished universitysort of an unspoken rule. Besides she trailed off, her smile gaining a playful twist, sometimes its useful. Even the tutors mix us up.
She laughed, a bright, clear sound, clearly enjoying their occasional escapades.
I see, said Rupert, regarding her thoughtfully. At that moment, his phone chimed. He glanced at it, nodded, and set it aside. Mary says shes waiting at our favourite café. I suppose she doesnt have any idea whats happening here.
He looked at Anne with a hint of gentle understanding.
Dont fret. I wont mention your little test. I understand why you worry about your sisterI dont want to cause trouble between you.
Annes shoulders relaxed in relief, her smile this time genuine.
Thank you, Rupert. Truly.
He rose, collected his jacket. Take care. Ill try not to keep Mary waiting.
The door clicked shut, leaving Anne alone. The silence fell heavy, the flat suddenly unnaturally still as though the world outside had paused. She sank onto a chair, gripping the edge of the kitchen table as she fought not to weep. Why had nothing worked? Why hadnt he given in? Why had her carefully constructed planinto which shed poured so much effortcrumbled so utterly?
Her mind whirled, returning her to the moment when Rupert first entered their lives. She remembered their first meeting as vividly as if it were yesterday: his easy laugh, his open, good-natured manner, his winning smile. Every time he appeared, Annes heart would leap, her palms growing clammy with nerves. Shed rehearsed words, conversations, imagined them walking together, laughing together Yet every time something stopped her: fear of rejection, of awkwardness, of spoiling the delicate balance between her and her sister.
But Mary Mary had never hesitated. One afternoon shed simply returned home with Rupert, introducing him as casually as if he were an old friend. This is Rupert, shed said, smilingand their parents had immediately taken to him with warm affection.
Anne remembered that dinner with almost painful clarity. Shed watched from the doorway as Rupert laughed at Fathers jokes, answered Mothers questions with polite charm. Inside, she was brimming with emotion, but on her face she kept the polite, serene smile expected of her. How hard it was, maintaining such outward calm while a tempest raged within!
He should have been with me! she thought, her chest tight. She had noticed him first, felt the inexplicable pull first, spent sleepless nights thinking of him. Yet it was Mary who had taken him, seemingly without the faintest notion of Annes own feelings.
Anne tried to steady herself. She knew she couldnt let such thoughts rule her mind. But how to push them away when the ache lingered and disappointment gnawed at her?
Mary had always drawn people in. She was like sunlightbright, cheerful, irresistibly warm. She was the heart of every gathering, shone at parties, chatted for hours with friends. Yet, almost inexplicably, her studies never suffered; she breezed through her exams while barely glancing at a textbook.
Anne, meanwhile, was closed, reserved; she planned everything, invested time in careful thought. For her, relaxation meant a novel beside the fire or a quiet chat with a close friend. When Mary asked her along to a social, Anne usually declined. Ive not the time for idle diversions, shed say, loftily, content to spend her evenings preparing for class or reading professional essays.
Now, looking back, Anne often wondered if shed been wrong. Should she, just once, have accepted Marys invitations, built connections, while away a night at a party? Might Rupert have noticed herserious, thoughtful, determined? Instead, he fell for Maryimpulsive, carefree, ever-charming.
Deep down, Anne knew it was more than simply personality or habit. Mary drew notice as naturally as breathing; she didnt set out to impress, she simply was. Anne, on the other hand, overthought every word, fretted at every step, and stayed, inevitably, in her sisters shadow.
Such thoughts tormented her. She tried to reassure herself that her own path would one day be appreciated, that her patience and determination would be valued. Yet, in the lonely hush of dusk, Anne sometimes wondered how life might have unfolded if shed only let herself be a little bit more like Mary.
When Mary, glowing, announced at family supper that she was to marry, Anne felt something inside break. She smiled, congratulated her sister, even gave her an embrace, but internally a single thought beat again and again: This cannot be real. All evening she played her joyful partand felt nothing but emptiness.
The following days passed sleeplessly, Annes mind chasing itself in circles, weighing possibilities, replaying every moment. Finally, a plan took shape in her thoughts and seemed, in the cold, lonely night, to be flawless.
If Rupert sees me instead of Mary, if he succumbs to my charm, and Mary discovers uswell, that would be the end. Mary would never forgive such a betrayal, and at least Rupert would belong to neither of us. Somehow, that seemed fair.
She prepared meticulously: the claret, the words, the gestures, the careful play of lamplight. For days shed practised her sisters mannerisms in the mirror, creating a seamless imitation.
But the day of her operation crumbled almost instantly. As soon as Rupert crossed the threshold, he saw through her. Rather than losing himself in the disguise, he remained polite, quickly unravelled the ruse, and quietly went to join his true fiancée.
So Anne sat, staring at nothing, her perfect scheme in pieces. The clock ticked onwardsthe wedding drew near, and she was left with nothing.
I must think of something else, she told herself, anxiously twisting the hem of her tablecloth. Before its too late. Ideas whirled in her mind; none seemed sure, and she knewher next attempt would have to be flawless.
***
A fortnight later, Mary gathered the family beneath the old beamed ceiling of their cottage dining room, radiant with happiness as she announcedshe was expecting. Her eyes shone with real joy, her words trembling with excitement. Their parents faces blossomed with delight as they plotted, questioned, and congratulated.
Anne sat silent, clasping a cold teacup. Each enthusiastic comment, every look of pride their parents bestowed upon Mary, pricked Anne like needles. In her mind, she pictured what must come: family dinners with Rupert seated confidently at the head, holidays with him at Marys side, celebrations, new beginningsand Anne forever an onlooker. She could hardly bear it.
Something radical was needed. Desperation seeped in. While the clock ticked, she told herself, there must still be time to change things.
Then, in her mind, a new plan slowly formedone more ruthless than anything before. If anything could shatter the couple, it would be the loss of a long-cherished child. It was brutal, unconscionableand yet she could see no other path.
Anne caught Marys gazeso bright, so full of trust and hope for her baby. For a heartbeat her resolve wavered, but she forced herself on. A doctor of her acquaintance, a little moneyjust enough for a particular prescription. Nothing criminal, merely something that would cause an unfortunate complication.
She let out a barely audible, bitter laugh. Mary, catching the sound, smiled back unaware, thinking Anne shared in her happiness.
Your joy will not last long, Anne thought, icy resolve hardening within her.
***
Would you like some juice? Anne called lightly to her sister, holding atop her old performance as she had done so many times before. Your favourite sortI brought it from the village.
Oh, thank you! Mary beamed, clutching Annes hand affectionately. Youre simply the best sister in England!
Anne hesitated, almost physically pained. But she steeled herself.
Ill fetch it now, she replied, voice steady.
In the kitchen, she poured the cool juice into a glass and slipped her hand into her apron pockether fingers closed around the tiny tablet. But then she paused.
What was she doing? She stared at the glass, then her palm. Suddenly, she saw clearly: Mary, delighted, speaking of her baby; their parents, celebrating; Rupert, supporting his wife. Was she truly about to cross such an unforgivable line? Was she capable of something so unspeakable?
No. Nothis was not who she was. A moments madness had nearly brought her here; she would not let it define her. The tablet slipped from her trembling fingers and landed on the countertop with a barely audible tap.
Anne? Is everything all right? Mary appeared at the kitchen doorway, concern clouding her features. You look a bit peaky. Shall I fetch Mother?
Anne glanced up, and for the first time allowed herself to look honestly at her sisterinto the warm, unguarded eyes of someone who saw her as family, as a friend, not as a rival. In that moment, Anne understood the true worth of what she had nearly destroyed.
No, I just felt faint for a moment, Anne replied, summoning a wan smile. Ill just make myself a cup of tea. Then well have a natter.
She turned to fill the kettle, hands still shaking. Every movement was an effort, as though she were pushing herself through mist.
Inside, a storm still raged. How close she had come to losing herselfhow easy it had seemed, after years of nursing jealousy and resentment, to justify such cruelty!
Anne spooned tea leaves into a cup, poured boiling water, and stirred slowly. The familiar aroma brought a little calm. She looked at Mary, who sat sipping her juice, already chatting about weekend plans, entirely at ease.
How could she have even considered such an act? she thought. Mary was her sister, her oldest companion.
For the first time, Anne admittedthis darkness had been building for years. If she ever hoped to move forward, she must own up to these feelings and, perhaps, seek help beyond her own thoughts. Maybe there was someonea counsellor, a trusted friendwho could help her untangle the knot that resentment and grief had knotted inside her.
Whats on your mind? Mary asked, tilting her head, her expression open.
Oh, just worknothing important. I reckon I might need to consult someone about how best to manage it all.
It was only part of the truth, but Mary seemed content. She rattled on about her plans, while Anne listened quietly, sometimes responding. Inside, she felt something hardennot relief, but the beginnings of resolve.
She could not let those dark thoughts govern hernot now, not ever again. Her relationship with Mary, her own peace of mindher very futuredepended on it.
So the first step would be to admit her need for help. There was no shame in it. She would not run away, but face her tangled feelings head-on.
***
In time, Mary gave birth to a darling baby girlRosiewho instantly became the apple of everyones eye. She entered the world quietly on a balmy June night; by morning, the new grandparents were already parading her photographs around the village. Tiny, rosy-cheeked, lashes dark against her skin, Rosie slept content in her cot while all who visited smiled involuntarily.
The following days were a tapestry of sweet little moments. Mary and Rupert, wide-eyed but determined, took turns rocking the baby, learning to swaddle and burp and serenade her. Their parents arrived with armfuls of tiny jumpers, and Grannys needles clattered as she knit soft booties for her grandchild.
But no one doted on Rosie more than Aunt Anne. After the turmoil within her had eased, she found herself seeking time with her niece, first to help Mary, then for the love of itcradling the baby, preparing supper, nipping out to the shop for supplies. She would peer with fascination at Rosies little hands and feet, mimic her frowns, laugh at her first gummy smiles.
Anne learned to cradle her with confidence, humming nonsense lullabies, buying sweet little dressesone day a rosy romper stitched with flowers, the next a blue one with prancing lambs. The quiet joy Anne felt surprised even her; she cherished each new milestone, every gurgle and new word, coaxing the little girl as she took her first unsteady steps.
Mary watched from across the room, gratitude shining in her face. One evening after Rosie had fallen asleep and Anne was tidying away her toys, Mary came close and whispered:
Thank you. I can see how much you love her. It matters so, having an aunt like you.
Anne only smiled, self-conscious. She had never imagined that care for her niece could bring such contentment. In those simple momentsRosies laughter, her first words, arms reaching out for a hugAnne found at last what she had long yearned for: a sense of belonging, sincerity, and an unconditional love that did not depend upon comparison or victory.
Looking back, Anne realised that at times, life brings us blessings in wholly unexpected ways. And sometimes, rather than fighting for what we think we deserve, the truest peace comes in caring for those around us, discovering happiness through the happiness we help to create.
