My brother sent a SnapChat message meant for his mistress to my phone. “Darling, The Platinum Hotel, 12 AM, sultry red negligee ready.” A cold sneer played on my lips. I immediately SnapChatted him back. “$500,000. Hush money.” My brother called me right away. He started screaming, calling me shameless, accusing me of ripping off my own brother. I just smiled, not bothering to reply. I calmly hung up. Five minutes later, I received a transfer of $500,000 from my brother. And a text message. “Please, don’t tell Chelsea. She’s pregnant, it’s not easy for her right now.” I didn’t reply to his SnapChat. I just calmly transferred $300,000 to my sister-in-law, Chelsea. After she confirmed the transfer, I asked her, “The baby’s five months along, right? You’re pregnant, so you probably can’t get a divorce?” Her reply was swift. “That’s why I’ve decided to abort this child. Brandon doesn’t even like the baby anyway. What about you? What are you going to do?” Me? My gaze fell upon the photo of Brandon and me on the living room coffee table. The picture was taken during our college days, a casual shot snapped by a passerby. But in that instant, our eyes, locked on each other, were filled with such deep affection. Now… A bitter smile touched my lips. “I’m planning on aborting my baby too.” She didn’t reply to my SnapChat immediately. It was half an hour later when her response finally came. “Derek just got home.” “Okay, if you’re also planning to abort, I’ll arrange a private clinic now. What time works best for you?” “Seven days from now. In seven days, it will be Derek and your seventh wedding anniversary. And it will also be Brandon and my third wedding anniversary. We both started on that day, so let’s end on that day too.” She sent an “okay” emoji. As soon as I cleared the chat history, My brother’s SnapChat came through again. “Smart move. Glad you didn’t tell Chelsea.” Smart move? Oh, I’m definitely smart. After all, my dear brother, at eighteen, tore up my acceptance letter to an elite university, destroyed my academic records, and forced me to study abroad. All because the girl who had lived in our house, replacing me for ten years, Sierra, didn’t score as well as I did. She cried. And he, in his blind fury, destroyed the future I had fought so hard to secure for myself. And now, in the third year of my marriage to his best friend, Brandon, and three months into my pregnancy. The woman I’d driven away with my desperate, messy antics was back. Just because she said she still couldn’t forget Brandon. My wonderful brother, he actively orchestrated their affair, constantly creating opportunities to lure Brandon into cheating. I never understood why my brother was so cruel. Was it because when I was lost as a child and later found, I accused him of deliberately abandoning me? When Dad whipped him with a belt until his skin bled, Sierra cried and shielded him. And I, his sister, became his enemy. While Sierra became the apple of his eye. To the point where he was malicious enough to ruin my life, ruin my marriage, just to help Sierra.
Just as I was sinking deep into painful memories, the front door opened. Brandon was back. Seeing me curled up on the sofa, he paused, then instinctively said, “Why aren’t you asleep yet?” He quickly kicked off his shoes and walked over, putting his arm around my shoulders. “Is the baby bothering you again?” He reached out and stroked my still-flat belly, gently humming a lullaby. Listening to his soft voice, my hands, clutching the blanket, tightened. Sometimes, I couldn’t help but want to confront Brandon and ask him how he managed it. He still smelled of the woman he’d been with, yet he’d made it home by 10 o’clock, the curfew I’d set for him. Then he’d kiss my cheek. Then he’d sit with me, playing educational music for our baby. Well, it made sense. After all, when I was found and brought back to the Vance family, he managed to subtly approach me, listening to my stories of the five years I was lost and the pain I endured. Yet, in the middle of the night, if Sierra called, he’d take her out for a night ride on his motorcycle. He was always so contradictory, unable to let go of me, yet unable to let go of Sierra. Even when my brother’s actions forced me into孤苦无依 (loneliness and helplessness) abroad for college. When I called Mom and Dad again for living expenses, they were busy traveling with Sierra and Derek, ignoring my calls and me. Crying, I made just one call to Brandon. He only heard two sobs before he was on a plane that very night, flying to me, giving me money, and giving me his loving support. But after he returned home, he showed up at our family’s holiday dinner, embracing Sierra, looking like the perfect couple, in our family photo. I honestly thought I had won. After all, when I returned home, I threw a huge fit and practically blackmailed my parents into sending Sierra abroad. I forced Brandon to ultimately choose me. But only now did I realize I had lost. Completely. The pain was so intense that tears welled up and streamed down my face without my conscious control. Seeing me cry, Brandon panicked instantly. “What’s wrong, Cassie? Don’t cry, tell me what’s wrong.” I looked through my teary eyes at the man before me, his eyes full of concern. For a moment, I truly believed I was his whole world. But as he turned to grab tissues for my tears, I saw the dense, unmistakable hickeys on his neck, and my heart clenched. No wonder Brandon had been sleeping in high-collared shirts these past few days. When I was asleep, he was still working in his study. When I woke up, he was already dressed in his suit and tie. I had always thought Brandon was feeling guilty about his betrayal, but at that moment, it hit me. His pathetic attempts to cover his tracks were simply to hide the evidence of his infidelity. But what did he have to hide? Sierra had already threatened me the day she returned, vowing to take back everything that “belonged to her.” So, these past few days, the drawer where I kept my wedding ring was already filled with intimate photos of Brandon and Sierra. Any day Brandon might notice I wasn’t wearing my wedding ring and, on a whim, decide to put it on me, opening that drawer to find them. Yet, the man who used to complain if I didn’t wear my ring for even a day, accusing me of not valuing our marriage, Hadn’t noticed I’d taken off my wedding ring since Sierra returned. I also noticed Brandon’s wedding ring had changed. It was a ring with a similar general design to mine, but the details were completely different. I even snuck it off his finger while he was asleep and saw that the engraving inside the band had changed from B&C (Brandon & Cassie) to B&S (Brandon & Sierra). My heart ached, a suffocating pain. As Brandon reached out with a tissue to wipe my tears, A wave of nausea suddenly hit me. I instinctively slapped his hand away. Brandon froze, the tissue still in his hand. I quickly blurted out an excuse. “Sorry, I think I’m just having morning sickness. I’m going back to bed.” After that, I didn’t spare a glance at Brandon’s expression, fleeing frantically back to my room. The moment the door closed, I collapsed over the toilet, violently vomiting. For the past three months of my pregnancy, this baby had been incredibly considerate; I hadn’t experienced any morning sickness at all. But now it had begun. So, it wasn’t just me who found his disgusting, two-faced act nauseating. My baby felt it too.
I didn’t sleep a wink all night. After the violent vomiting, my stomach even began to ache with a dull, throbbing pain. In the past, I would have rushed to the hospital in the middle of the night. After all, I was a girl who was unloved by my father, unloved by my mother, unloved by my brother. I truly longed for a child whose eyes held only me. But this time, almost self-destructively, I didn’t move. Just as Chelsea said, his father didn’t love him anyway. Maybe his choosing to leave was the best option. Brandon didn’t return to the bedroom that night. I heard the front door close at midnight, and again at six in the morning. Where did Brandon go? It was obvious. After all, at 2 AM last night, I had received photos from Sierra. She and Brandon were snuggled on the bed in what used to be my childhood room. On the bedside table sat my old teddy bear, Barnaby, whom I used to hug to sleep every night. And in front of Barnaby was a photo of Sierra wearing a princess dress. Because, ever since I was lost for five years and returned home after so much hardship, My room had become Sierra’s. My brother had become Sierra’s. My parents had also become Sierra’s. What hurt me the most was that one night, I woke up crying from a nightmare about that cruel, jailed foster father. I crawled out of bed, searching for Mom and Dad, Only to find them, along with my brother, cradling a crying Sierra, whose stomach ached in the middle of the night, their faces filled with worry. “The guest bedroom is drafty, Sierra must have caught a cold and that’s why her stomach hurts.” No sooner had Mom spoken than my brother chimed in, “If Cassie hadn’t come back, Sierra wouldn’t have been kicked out. You see how difficult she is to get along with now, but you two, for the sake of appearances, still refuse to admit it.” “And you gave Sierra’s room to Cassie! Do you even think she deserves it?” As soon as my brother finished speaking, Dad slapped him on the head. “Shut up, don’t let Cassie hear you, or she’ll throw another tantrum.” Afterward, muffled sounds of them comforting Sierra not to cry echoed from the living room. That night, I returned to my room and developed a high fever. But no one among the three outside knew. It wasn’t until I had been in bed for four days, and my cold had naturally subsided, that I proactively suggested moving out of that room which was once mine, and offered to go live with my grandmother. Only then did they seem to realize they hadn’t seen me leave my room for four days. Thinking of the bitter past, a suffocating pain clenched my heart again. I struggled to get out of bed, brushed my teeth, and stepped out of the room, only to see Brandon, wearing an apron, preparing a meal for pregnant women. The sight stung my eyes, making them red-rimmed. Seeing me, Brandon took off his apron and walked towards me. “I saw you had morning sickness last night, so I was afraid of disturbing your rest and slept in the study.” With that, Brandon guided me to sit at the dining table. “I saw online that pregnant women only avoid morning sickness if they eat well.” He then turned to the kitchen to pour me milk. But looking at the breakfast spread on the table, all made with eggs, my heart clenched again. I am allergic to eggs. My eyes welled up once more. The next moment, my SnapChat notification chimed. It was Sierra. “Enjoy the egg feast I had Brandon prepare for you?” “Consider this your reward for sleeping alone last night.” “I hope you and the bastard in your belly end up in the hospital, dead and unburied.” “Oh, and Brandon will probably tell you about a business trip later, but actually, he promised to accompany me to visit my parents’ graves.” “You know, I just got back from abroad, so of course, I have to go back and see my birth parents.” “By the way, your mom, dad, and brother are coming along too.” My fingers holding the phone tightened their grip. After pouring the milk, Brandon walked back to me. He placed the milk on the table, then kissed my cheek, and said, “Honey, I have to go on a business trip today. Something urgent came up with the project in S City.” With that, he reached out and untied his apron. “You and this little troublemaker stay put at home. I’ll be back in a couple of days.” He didn’t care about my pale face. He didn’t care if I’d eaten a single bite of his carefully prepared egg delicacy. He rushed back to the room, grabbed his pre-packed suitcase, and walked out the door. He didn’t even say goodbye to me. He didn’t even ask why my eyes were so red before slamming the door shut. Listening to the lingering thud of the door echoing in the room, tears streamed down my face. And the fork and knife Brandon had given me, without me realizing, had pierced into the flesh of my palm. Scarlet drops ran down the blade, falling one by one into the milky white glass, swirling into a pink cloud.
I sat at the dining table for two full hours that day before I regained my senses. That same day, I called Chelsea and arranged for us to get our abortions earlier than planned. To my surprise, she was just like me; as soon as I suggested it, she agreed. When we met at the private clinic, her face was as ashen as mine. Before I could even ask her what was wrong, She walked over and hugged me tightly, her scalding tears threatening to burn my neck. “Don’t ask, I don’t want to talk about it.” I stroked her trembling back, a pang of sympathy rising in my heart. She and my brother were college sweethearts; she’d poured her heart and soul into pursuing him. I’ll never forget the joy and happiness radiating from her face when my brother brought her home to meet our parents. But in just seven short years. That once innocent, adorable girl had withered like a neglected rose, all the brightness gone from her eyes. After holding me tightly for several minutes, she finally let go. “I’m glad, in my darkest moment, to have someone by my side.” With that, she walked resolutely into the doctor’s office. Watching her back, I wiped away the tears that had fallen from my eyes without my knowing. Yes, I was glad, in my darkest moment, to at least have someone by my side. Afterward, I mimicked her, Resolutely, without a moment’s hesitation, I walked into another doctor’s office. Three hours later, Chelsea and I lay in the same hospital room. I didn’t speak. She didn’t speak. Only the hollow beeping of the heart monitor echoed in the room. After an unknown amount of time, a choked sob came from behind the white privacy curtain. “Cassie, do you know? I always thought if I aborted the baby, I’d be okay.” “I wouldn’t love your brother anymore, I wouldn’t be in pain anymore. But why, now that the child who was in my belly for five months is gone, do I feel such unbearable grief?” No sooner had she spoken than her heartbroken wailing filled the room. Listening to her sorrowful and despairing cries, I silently shed my own tears. Yes, why did it hurt so much? This was clearly the best choice. His father simply didn’t love him. If I just severed this last tie with that family, I would finally be free from Sierra’s vortex. But why did it hurt so much? My body felt like it was being flayed alive, my heart as if it were being torn into a thousand pieces. Chelsea and I stayed in the hospital for a seven-day post-procedure recovery. During those seven days, the man who constantly declared his love for me down to his very bones, didn’t send me a single SnapChat. He didn’t make a single call. Chelsea’s SnapChat, however, kept pinging. Afraid of her pain, I took her phone. I saw text after text from my brother, Asking her to pick up packages for Sierra. Asking her to go to the jewelry store to pick up the limited-edition bag he’d ordered for Sierra long ago. Tears welled up in my eyes again. Just as my trembling fingers were about to curse him back, Chelsea opened her lifeless eyes. “It’s so pathetic, isn’t it?” “Sometimes I even think I’m pathetic.” “Actually, when I was dating your brother in college, I knew he had a sister he cherished to his very core.” “Every month he’d transfer her money, he’d regularly buy her sanitary pads, and every holiday, he’d leave without a word’s notice.” “Back then, I thought that girl was you, and I was jealous of you for a long time.” “But it wasn’t until I married your brother that I realized that girl wasn’t you. The one he cherished was his sister with no blood relation to him.” “But I was so stupid, so foolishly believing that if I just worked hard enough, if I gave my all, your brother would love me.” “But love isn’t something you can force. Even if I abandoned all my self-respect to please him, to love him, he still wouldn’t love me. He’d rather find countless women who resembled Sierra than love me.” Listening to Chelsea’s choked voice, my heart ached with suffocating pain. I quickly consoled her. “It’s all over now. Once we divorce, we’ll leave this place.” “If you don’t know where to go, you can come with me.” “We don’t need those people who only have Sierra in their hearts, okay?” Chelsea’s voice trembled as she whispered “okay,” then pulled the blanket over her head. Afterward, Chelsea and I stayed in the hospital for another two weeks of post-procedure recovery before being discharged. As soon as we left the hospital, I received a call from Brandon. He told me that my parents wanted to host a family dinner to celebrate Sierra’s birthday. What a ridiculously ironic call. My parents were hosting a family dinner and they notified my husband, not me. And perhaps not only had my parents forgotten, but my husband had also forgotten, that today was my birthday too. My sister-in-law also received a call. She was even worse off than me. My brother, besides informing her to attend the family dinner, Also gave her a series of instructions. To order a cake from the bakery. To prepare a suit and dress shoes for him, and even demanded she pick them up at the airport. They were returning to Mom’s mansion, and he wanted Chelsea to take their luggage home for them first. Seeing my brother’s SnapChat. Chelsea and I exchanged a glance. “Are you ready?” Chelsea nodded. “I’m ready.” So she immediately SnapChatted back to my brother: “I’m busy today. I don’t have time to be your nanny.” The moment her message was sent, my brother’s call came through. His voice filled with reproach and deep impatience.
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