Chapter 1He Loved Me In Her Skin

Three years with the man of my dreams, and just as we were starting to talk rings, my body became a prison I shared with my cousin.

Now, all I can do is watch her, wearing my skin, as she embraces, kisses, and… well, does everything else with him.

In the dead of night, my Adam, who should have been with my cousin—in my body—suddenly knocked and squeezed his way into the room, pulling me into a hug, ready to kiss me senseless.

“Celeste…”

He mumbled my cousin’s name, and a bucket of icy water was thrown over my heart. I shoved him away.

Celeste Wells. That was my cousin’s name.

* * *

From a young age, I knew I wasn’t as likable as Celeste.

My mother would often tap my forehead in frustration, sighing, “Daisy Wells, tell me, why can’t you be more savvy? Looks are one thing, but can’t you at least be clever? Pay attention to Celeste; she’s so sharp.”

Celeste was beautiful, effortlessly outgoing, and she had a knack for charming every adult she met.

At holiday gatherings, she always walked away with more coveted gifts and more social currency than I did.

I, Daisy, was plain, timid, and aside from decent grades, I felt utterly forgettable.

The bravest thing I’d ever done was pursue Adam Holloway.

I chased him for an entire semester, writing dozens of clumsy notes, inventing elaborate “chance” encounters, bringing him water during his intramural basketball games, and studying beside him in the library.

One night, as we were leaving the library, I was fumbling to hand him a Bluetooth earbud, when he suddenly grabbed my wrist.

“Daisy Wells,” he asked, his voice low, “are you even trying to chase me?”

He looked down at me, his impossibly handsome face inching closer, his breath warm.

My heart hammered so hard it felt like it might escape, and my face and ears flamed. “I… I’m a disaster of a pursuer.”

Adam just smiled, then lowered his head and kissed me. “Then let me show you how it’s done.”

When Adam and I started dating, everyone around us was stunned. One of my less-than-friendly roommates was cuttingly passive-aggressive: “Her? She’s so mousy and dresses like a librarian. I bet she had to pull some major strings to land Adam.”

I once asked Adam why, out of everyone, he chose to be with me.

We were crammed onto a commuter rail train, and he had me circled in his arms because of the crowd. He answered casually, resting his chin on my head, “Because you’re my girl.”

Celeste later told me that a man only resorts to calling you ‘cute’ or ‘my girl’ when he can’t find any real, outward qualities to compliment.

That summer, Celeste came to visit me in Newport, and Adam drove with me to the station to pick her up.

He walked ahead, dragging her ridiculously large suitcase, while Celeste leaned in to whisper to me, “Oh my God, Sis, your boyfriend is my absolute dream guy.”

My stomach dropped.

Celeste had always been the one to take things from me—toys, attention, even friendships—and my family always insisted I be the bigger person.

She was the gilded shadow I could never escape.

If Celeste decided she wanted Adam, I knew I would lose. I had no fight in me against her.

Over the next few days, I showed Celeste around, and though Adam offered to join us, I stiffly refused.

I forced a brittle smile. “No, that’s okay. I’ll hang out with her. It’s a holiday weekend; the city’s going to be crowded. You know how you hate noisy places.”

Adam looked at me, a long, searching look, before he suddenly pulled me close, pressing a hard kiss to my lips.

In broad daylight, I glanced around, embarrassed, and quickly pulled away.

He gave me a wounded, theatrical look. “Fine. I’ll just drown myself in the lab then. Let me know when my future Mrs. decides to grace me with her presence.”