I sat by the roadside for what felt like hours, my thoughts swirling in a chaotic mess, until I saw Ethan walking out with Lily. His arm, which had been protectively wrapped around hers, dropped the moment he noticed me.

"Why are you sitting here instead of going inside? It’s filthy," he remarked with disdain, completely oblivious to my tear-swollen eyes. As my gaze fell on Lily, he instinctively moved to shield her, his stance resembling the way he used to protect me when we were children.

But now, our roles have reversed. I couldn’t help but curl my lips into a bitter smile. I hadn't even said anything yet, but Ethan spoke first.

“Don’t misunderstand,” he began hastily. “Lily drank too much tonight, so I just brought her back here to rest for a bit. She was feeling embarrassed and wanted to leave as soon as it got dark. I was worried about her going alone, so I thought I’d walk her back.”

Ethan, who never bothered to explain himself to me, was now stumbling over his words, trying to justify Lily's presence. He seemed like a stranger, a man I barely knew, even though I had stood by his side for twenty-two years.

I took a deep breath, my tone filled with sarcasm. “If she had any sense, she wouldn't be here with someone else's fiancé. And, by the way, it's already past midnight.”

Exposed, Ethan's expression quickly darkened. “Samantha, Lily is your sister. What do you mean by saying that?”

Sister?

I felt my eyelashes tremble. He was calling the woman who had taken everything from me, my sister. Did he forget what Lily had done to me?

I was swapped and kept away from my real family for seven years by Lily’s mother, abused and neglected. When I was finally found by my birth parents, Lily made sure I was blamed and humiliated, stripping me of any love or acceptance I might have received. Her mother and she didn't stop at just taking my family — they destroyed my dreams and left my hand permanently damaged.

I would never forgive Lily, much less accept her as my sister.

“She is not my sister,” I retorted. “She’s just the daughter of a trafficker.”

My defiance earned me a slap from Ethan.

“Samantha, you’ve gone too far. Apologize to Lily right now.”

“I won’t.” I stared defiantly into his eyes, my fingers digging into my palms so hard I felt the skin break. Blood seeped through the bandage, but it couldn’t compare to the pain in my heart.

The same man who once tore up over my smallest injury had now struck me for the first time — all for Lily.

Behind Ethan, Lily gave me a triumphant smile, before switching to a look of feigned innocence and tugging at Ethan's sleeve. “It’s okay, Ethan. I shouldn’t have come. It’s all my fault. Please don’t fight because of me.”

Ethan held her hand silently, his gaze toward me growing colder by the second.

“Samantha, what happened back then was all her birth mother’s doing. It had nothing to do with Lily. It’s been so many years, why can’t you let it go?”

I almost laughed at his naivety. "You love to act generous with other people’s suffering, don’t you, Ethan? You saw scars all over my body. You saw my hand that will never hold a paintbrush again. And you call that petty?"

Ethan, clearly embarrassed by my words, lost all semblance of calm. He pointed at me, his voice no longer gentle. "Look at yourself, Samantha, how bitter and twisted you’ve become. Is it any wonder your parents don’t like you?"

With that, he shoved me aside and walked past me with Lily, shielding her as he did. His push was forceful; I crashed into a streetlight pole, pain shooting through my back, making it hard to straighten up.

This was the third time in one day that Ethan had laid a hand on me.

When we were ten, Lily framed me with her own body, causing my parents to hate me. I cried so hard, and it was ten-year-old Ethan who comforted me with his innocent, childlike voice.

Dragging my weary body back to the new apartment, I found an email with Candace's flight information. The timing was just perfect—ten days from now, on the morning of our wedding.

I looked up at the small robot on the wall, its cheerful face staring back at me. The large numbers on its display weren't just a countdown to our wedding anymore; they had become a countdown to my departure.

It seemed almost fated.

When Ethan returned, I was wrapping the bandages on my hand. The sight of my injuries made his eyes flicker with something akin to guilt. He sighed deeply, crouching in front of me to gently remove the old bandages and clean the wounds with iodine.

"You know," he said, his voice tinged with frustration, "I’ve been good to Lily partly because of you. All these years, you’ve struggled with your parents. Now, as we’re about to get married, you don’t have any family to attend, no friends to speak of, and even your bridesmaids are nowhere to be found."

I bit my lip, silent.

Ethan knew me better than anyone. He knew the countless betrayals I had suffered, the heartbreak my parents had inflicted by favoring Lily over me. He had witnessed the destruction of my trust and the severance of our family bonds. When I cut ties with my parents, Ethan had been supportive.

It wasn’t that I lacked friends; he knew that, too. But most of them were now married with their own lives. And here I was, waiting year after year for him to achieve his goals, and now, on the brink of turning thirty, he was the one complaining.

The boy who once held me and promised, "As long as you have me, that's enough," had long since been swallowed by the tides of time.

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through my hand. I reflexively pulled it back, but Ethan wouldn’t let go. He gave me a reproachful look, gently tugged my hand back, and blew on the wound.

"At your age, you can’t handle this little pain? Just imagine how you’d cope without me," he said, his voice a mix of concern and exasperation.

I watched him, struggling to believe in the sincerity of his actions. Were all those years of tenderness and care merely a performance? Had I been the only one truly invested in this role?

“I wanted to ask,” I said softly, “why did you change your clothes? What happened to your evening dress?”

“It got ruined, so I threw it away,” he replied casually.

I had no desire to continue the conversation, but Ethan seemed oblivious to my silence, chattering more than usual. He tossed the used cotton swabs into the trash, packed away the first aid kit, and continued his lecture.

“I’ve already apologized to Lily for tonight’s incident. In the future, think before you speak. Stop clinging to the past.”

I watched him clean up the first aid kit, a bitter smile curling on my lips.

"Ethan, there won’t be a future for us."

"What?"

He turned, sensing something was amiss, but all he saw was me fiddling with my phone, avoiding his gaze.

In the bedroom, the empty half-wall seemed especially stark. I picked up the discarded piece of lingerie from the bed and tossed it under the bed. Even so, the bed felt filthy, tainted by the memory of their intimate moments.

My stomach churned, and I couldn’t hold it in—I vomited onto the bed.

Ethan emerged from the bathroom and, seeing the mess, frowned.

"What’s this? When someone’s unwell, they use a trash can or a toilet, not a bed.”

Seeing my pale face, he softened his tone.

“Looks like we’ll have to find a new place to sleep tonight.”

As he opened the closet to find new bedding, he accidentally knocked a picture frame off the shelf. It shattered on the floor.

Ethan, looking guilty, picked up the pieces and tried to explain.

“The frame fell. I was afraid it would break, so I took it down. Didn’t expect to drop it anyway. Just make sure the nails are secure when you hang it back up.”

I gave a noncommittal response, taking the duvet from him and heading to the guest room.

Ethan rubbed his nose and resignedly began tidying up the room.

When I woke up in the guest room, the sun was already high in the sky. Ethan hadn’t come to the guest room last night, and surprisingly, I slept remarkably well.

Stretching lazily, I wandered into the living room and spotted a breakfast laid out on the table with a note.

“Babe, I’m off to work. Remember to eat breakfast. Be good!”

The same gentle and caring tone. But today, the message felt tainted. The breakfast, once a symbol of love, now seemed laced with ulterior motives.

I grimaced and tossed breakfast and notes into the trash bin.

After finishing breakfast, the robot beeped with a reminder about my schedule. I suddenly remembered—today was the day to visit the wedding planning company to choose the wedding dress and finalize the venue decor.

Ethan had likely forgotten.

I turned off the reminder and began to return the items for decorating the wedding house, packing up what had already been bought, and arranging for returns. Items that couldn’t be returned had to be reluctantly discarded.

Two hours later, I packed away every item of mine from this house, as if I was packing away my love for Ethan. The apartment, now stripped of my presence, felt devoid of the life I had lived here.

Just as I was about to burn a beautifully crafted photo album, Ethan’s call came through.

“Samantha, you forgot to remind me about the wedding dress and venue. How could you?”

“I forgot too,” I replied.

There was a long silence on the other end, and then he urged me to hurry downstairs. He was waiting for me in the car.

When I finally descended and saw him in the car with Lily, my heart sank. She was sitting in the front seat, greeting me with a bright, seemingly natural smile.

I quietly slipped into the back seat. Both Ethan and Lily looked momentarily surprised. Ethan glanced at me through the rearview mirror, trying to explain.

“I thought Lily’s taste was impeccable. I asked her to help us choose quickly.”

“Lily gets carsick, so I put her in the front,” he added, attempting to make it sound casual.

I nodded, turning my gaze to the scenery outside the window. With the prospect of leaving the country soon, I took in the final views of the city.

As I idly glanced forward, I noticed Ethan’s hand squeezing Lily’s, and Lily’s fingers intertwining with his. Their hands engaged in a silent conversation that spoke volumes.

I closed my eyes and pretended to doze off until we arrived.

At the wedding planning company, Lily immediately settled into a chair by the computer, while Ethan stood close to her, hunched over as they discussed the details. They looked like a loving couple, lost in their world.

I sat on a sofa across the room, indifferent and detached.

Once the plan was finalized, Ethan finally noticed me. Seeing me sitting alone, detached, he frowned.

“Why are you sitting so far away? Come over and help us choose,” he said, irritation in his voice.

I glanced at the designer’s screen and replied with a smile, “I’ve seen it already. What you’ve chosen is great.”

Lily suddenly bit her lip, her eyes welling up with tears. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have come.”

With that, she rushed out of the wedding planning company.

Ethan started to chase after her but stopped when he reached me.