After Breaking Up with My Adopted Brother

Three years after my ex-boyfriend—and adoptive brother—Eason Reed, had me committed, I was discharged from an exclusive psychiatric facility. Our reunion took place at the family’s Thanksgiving dinner.

He sat beside his celebrity model fiancée, Bonny Vance. And my discharge papers? The ones declaring me 'rehabilitated'? He'd signed them himself.

After a polite but distant greeting, I chose a seat as far from him as possible.

At the dinner table, he scooped a spoonful of his homemade truffle risotto onto my plate.

"I remember how much you used to love this. Eat up."

I calmly scraped the risotto into the nearby trash bin and spoke softly.

"Thank you, Eason, but I'm allergic to truffles now."

He froze, his brow furrowing.

"You never used to call me Eason. Do you still hate me for sending you to the facility?"

I lowered my eyes and shook my head.

You have to love someone to hate them.

And after three years of imprisonment, my love had long since died. How could any hate remain?

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1

"If you don't hate me, then eat the risotto."

Eason’s knuckles whitened around his fork, his voice tight with suppressed anger.

I didn't understand his anger. But my body, conditioned to obey, responded instantly. I bent down and knelt beside the kitchen cabinet.

Reaching into the trash bin, I scooped out the sticky rice and swallowed it without hesitation.

The greasy taste and the earthy smell of the mushrooms… I had been forced to eat it countless times at the facility, sometimes right next to the toilet. I'd long grown accustomed to it.

After swallowing, I returned to my seat.

I forced a smile and met his gaze.

"I've eaten it, Eason."

Shock flickered in Eason’s brown eyes.

He instinctively reached for a napkin to hand me, but I had already wiped my mouth clean with my sleeve.

"Crystal?"

"Why…"

I knew what he wanted to ask.

When had I become so careless? So unkempt?

During the five years we were secretly in love, I had been incredibly fussy.

When we cooked together, I could be exhausted to the point of collapse, yet I'd still wrap my arms around his neck, begging him coquettishly to wipe my fingertips clean.

I remembered when we first got together. He’d picked me up from campus, and we’d ended up making out in his car.

Our skin was slick with sweat, and with nowhere to wash up, I’d pestered him until he bought expensive mineral water just for me to wipe myself down.

Back then, he had laughed helplessly and tapped my head lightly.

"Crystal Davis, you're such a fussy neat-freak. I must be the only person on earth who can tolerate you."

But later, he was the one who sent me to that facility to "treat" a mental breakdown that never existed.

I was forced to eat by the toilets and soil my own bed.

How could I possibly care about being clean anymore?

My thoughts snapped back to the present. I didn't answer Eason's unspoken question.

I simply replied with the same reason he gave me when we broke up.

"People change, Eason."

Eason's brow furrowed even deeper. The tip of his tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek as he prepared to speak.

But Bonny Vance, sitting beside him, looped her arm through his flirtatiously.

"Darling, Crystal just got back. Why the long face?"

"Come on, smile. Hasn't our very own Dr. Reed already confirmed that Crystal's mental state is stable and she's fit to return to society?"

"It's a family reunion. We should all be happy."

Then, Bonny picked up my psychiatric evaluation report and read it aloud.

"As assessed by psychiatric specialist Eason Reed, Crystal Davis's mental state is stable and she is cleared for discharge."

The moment she finished, Eason's expression hardened. He stood abruptly and stalked out to the terrace to smoke.