My body ached all over, every muscle screaming for rest. Instead of leaving the room as I had intended, I stayed anchored to the bed, letting the dull pain hold me in place.

I didn’t cry. There were no tears left to shed.

When I opened my eyes again, sunlight spilled through the curtains, warm on my skin. And there, at the foot of the bed, were Nathan and Gabriel.

“Morning,” Nathan said, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips as he held a tray. “We brought you some breakfast.”

Gabriel carefully set the tray on my lap—toast, scrambled eggs, some fruit, and a glass of orange juice. Slightly cold, uninspiring.

“Thought you could use something to start your day,” Gabriel added, perching at the edge of the bed.

I looked at them. They seemed at ease, relaxed even. Almost happy. Like the past few days had never existed.

Nathan scratched the back of his neck. “Look, we’re sorry. Sabrina told us she saw an Instagram story from that night… you were at a party, and she was hurt. Robbed, even stabbed, and she thought you were ignoring her on purpose.”

Gabriel nodded. “She really believed that. So… maybe you should apologize to her. Just to make things right.”

I stared, incredulous, before scoffing.

“Maybe you should apologize to me.”

They both blinked.

Nathan frowned. “Why would we? We didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t tell us what happened. If you had, we could’ve been there.”

I laughed, bitter and hollow. “Do I have to beg to be cared about now? I was gone for days, and not a single check-in.”

“Don’t say that,” Gabriel said firmly. “Sabrina got stabbed. She needed us.”

“And I didn’t?” I snapped. “So if I’m not bleeding in front of you, I don’t matter?”

Before they could answer, the door creaked, and she entered.

Sabrina. Soft, oversized sweater, a slight limp. Pale face, lips quivering, tears brimming in her eyes.

“Picking a fight now, Elena?” she whispered, voice trembling. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get hurt. None of this was my intention.”

I studied her—the tremor in her hands, the pout, the subtle manipulation in every word. Like she was the victim. Again.

Tears streaked down her cheeks.

“I just… I don’t want us to be enemies. We were sisters once… I wish we could go back.”

And just like that, the boys reacted.

“Stop making her cry, Elena,” Nathan snapped.

“Come on, Sabrina,” Gabriel said softly. “You shouldn’t be walking around. Let’s get you back to bed.”

Their care for her stung, the attention raw and unearned.

“I’ll feed you,” Nathan said, taking her hand. “You need to eat.”

“Yeah,” Gabriel added. “We’ll bring your favorite seafood. You need your strength.”

Then they turned to me.

“You eat what we made, Elena,” Nathan said. “You’re discharged. Stop being picky.”

And with that, they led Sabrina away, leaving me alone again.

I stared at the plate. Rubber eggs, dry toast, unripe fruit.

From across the hall, laughter rang out. Sabrina’s voice was bright: “Mmm, I love crab legs! You remembered I hate toast, right? Seafood’s my favorite!”

Of course it was. They gave me scraps and lavished her with a feast.

I didn’t cry. Not this time. I was just… done.

My phone buzzed. A message from Mom: Venue options are in. Dresses attached. Let me know what you like, darling.

I tapped the call icon.

“Mom,” I said, voice steady.

“Elena! Did you see the pictures? What do you think of the flowers? And the dresses?” she asked, excitement bubbling.

“I like everything. It was actually hard to choose,” I replied. “I’ll finalize today. But I think the vintage one is my favorite.”

“Perfect! We’ll prepare it for you. How long until you’re back? Your groom is waiting—he’s excited.”

“A few more days. Something came up, but I’ll be there. I can’t wait to wear the dresses… for the wedding.”

Mom chuckled softly. “That’s my girl. We’ll wait for you.”

I hung up and stared at the untouched tray. Then I sensed the shift.

Nathan and Gabriel were standing in the doorway. I hadn’t even noticed them return.

Their eyes fixed on me, unreadable.

Gabriel’s voice broke the silence first. “Dress… for the wedding?”

Nathan stepped forward, frowning. “Wedding? What wedding?”

“What wedding are you even talking about?” Nathan asked, brow furrowed, confusion written all over his face.

I smiled slowly, deliberately, letting the words hang in the air. “The wedding you won’t be attending.”

He blinked, caught off guard. “Whose wedding? Not… not mine, right?”

I tilted my head, letting a soft, mocking laugh escape as I stepped closer. “Of course not mine. You haven’t even proposed yet, Nathan. Still my boyfriend, aren’t you?”

I lightly brushed my hand across his arm, just enough to unsettle him.

He recoiled immediately, shaking my hand off. “Elena… don’t be so clingy. You’re still healing. Just… rest for now.”

I swallowed the sting that cut deep into me. He didn’t even pretend to care anymore. How could I have been so foolish to actually fall for him?

Gabriel, leaning against the doorway, crossed his arms. “Wait… why aren’t we invited? We’ve known you forever.”

“She’s a distant cousin,” I said flatly, keeping my voice calm. “You wouldn’t know her. Mom just wants me there—to represent the family, I guess.”

“And Sabrina?” Gabriel pressed. “Is she coming with you?”

I shrugged. “No. She doesn’t know this cousin. Just my adopted sister. No reason for her to go.”

Nathan laughed like that was good news. “Perfect. Finally, we can go to Finland while you’re away.”

Finland? My breath caught. That had been my dream destination for years, and they’d always claimed it was impossible, a waste of money.

“Yeah,” Gabriel added casually. “Doctor cleared Sabrina for travel next week, so we’re booking our flight.”

“Without me?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.

Nathan turned with a smile. I didn’t mirror it. “Don’t worry—we’ll send you a gift for the wedding. A dress, something. Anyway, rest up. We’ll take Sabrina to her next hospital appointment.”

And just like that, they were gone again.

I didn’t answer. I nodded quietly, closing the door behind them. So this was it—me, a background note in someone else’s life.

Fine. Let them think I was still around. I’d leave quietly, disappear completely. No one would notice, and when they did… they’d regret it. I just needed a little more time.

Later that afternoon, I finally left the bedroom and headed to the kitchen, craving something warm. Soup, maybe. Something genuine, not thrown together for show.

As I opened the fridge and began chopping vegetables, I heard it—a soft shuffle behind me.

I turned slowly.

Sabrina stood there, pale pink cardigan, hair braided neatly. Innocent, helpless little sister image in full effect.

“I didn’t know you were up,” she said, voice sweet, leaning against the counter. “I thought you were still sick… or maybe pretending?”

I ignored her, chopping steadily.

“I mean,” she continued with a fake laugh, “did you really go to the hospital? Or were you just faking it because I was there, stealing the spotlight?”

I set down the knife, eyes locking on hers. “I’m not like you.”

Her expression hardened. “What does that mean?”

“You crave attention,” I said evenly. “Always play the victim.”

“Oh please,” she scoffed, voice sharp. “You’re jealous. How does it feel… knowing both Nathan and Gabriel love me now? Your boyfriend, your best friend—they’re mine. And you? You’re nothing.”

I flinched slightly, just enough for her to notice and smirk.

“Really, you should leave this apartment,” she said. “You don’t belong here anymore.”

I turned back to the pot, stirring slowly, ignoring her.

“Still pretending you’re above it all, huh?” she mocked. “Fine, I’ll help cook. The boys will love it.”

I spun toward her. “No, Sabrina. I don’t need help.”

“I’ll make something anyway,” she said cheerfully, grabbing a knife. “Let’s see which they like better—yours or mine.”

She moved closer, chopping quickly and sloppily, clearly on purpose. I stepped aside, letting her continue.

Then—

“Ahhh!” Sabrina yelped, dropping the knife. Blood spread across her fingertip.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered under my breath.

But it was too late.

“Nathan! Gabriel!” she screamed. “Help! Oh no—I cut myself! Elena didn’t even try!”

Within seconds, loud footsteps pounded the hallway.

The brothers burst in, alert and panicked.

Nathan lunged to Sabrina’s side. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“She didn’t care!” Sabrina sniffled, clutching his arm. “I was bleeding, and she just stood there!”

I froze, ladle still in hand.

“You didn’t help her?” Gabriel barked. “What is wrong with you?”

Sabrina held Nathan’s arm like a lifeline.

“I was trying,” she whispered, “but she… pushed me away.”

“I didn’t touch you,” I said softly, but no one was listening.

“I didn’t touch you,” I said quietly, but no one listened.

They were too busy hovering over Sabrina, who cradled her hand like it had been severed and not barely nicked. Her performance was flawless—wide teary eyes, a quivering lip, trembling shoulders. Every gesture perfectly calculated.

“You should’ve stopped her!” Nathan snapped at me. “She’s still recovering! Why did you let her near the kitchen?”

“I told her no,” I murmured. “She didn’t listen to me. Why are you blaming me?”

Gabriel’s glare could’ve sliced me in half. “You should’ve insisted. You know she’s not well. You’re supposed to be the responsible one.”

“And what about you?” I muttered under my breath. “I’m not well either.”

But again, no one heard me. Or maybe they chose not to.

“Next time, just cook for everyone yourself,” Nathan said sharply. “Sabrina shouldn’t be lifting a finger in her condition. Have some care for her! You guys are best friends, and we’re family here.”

Family? I wanted to vomit at the thought. I started, but the words withered before they reached them. What would be the sense of explaining when they wouldn’t listen to me at all?

“She shouldn’t have to want anything. Just take care of it,” Gabriel cut in. “You’re the one who’s fine now, right? So act like it. Cook for us! We want to eat something decent.”

They took Sabrina—still sniffling—into her room. Nathan had his arm around her like she was made of glass. Gabriel followed, saying something about getting her some ice.

And once again, they left me.

Alone. I stood by the stove, the soup long gone cold. I reheated it without thinking, added some salt, cracked an egg into the pot. My body moved automatically, stirring, ladling, pouring the food into a bowl with practiced care.

But this time… I didn’t cook for everyone. Why would I? They didn’t even want me with them in Finland. They don’t deserve me, not even once, so everything I do now is for myself.

Just for me.

I sat down at the table and began to eat.

The broth was warm, the taste soft on my tongue—comforting. It didn’t fix anything, but at least it was mine.

Halfway through the bowl, footsteps stormed into the kitchen.

Nathan and Gabriel.

“There you are,” Nathan said, glancing at the table. “Where’s our food?”

Gabriel followed with a frown. “Isn’t it done yet? What did you even make?”

I didn’t look up. “Nothing. This is just for me.”

Nathan blinked. “You only made food for yourself? Didn’t you hear me say you should cook for us, and also Sabrina? Where is it now?”

“I’m not your cook,” I said simply, spooning another bite into my mouth. “I didn’t even agree.”

Silence. Then the scoff.

“This is because of Sabrina again, isn’t it?” Gabriel snapped. “God, Elena, when are you going to let this go?”

I didn’t answer.

“She’s sick. She’s hurt,” Nathan added. “Why do you have to be so bitter all the time? What, you think we’re supposed to just abandon her so you can get attention?”

Still, I kept eating.

Bite after bite, the silence growing louder around me.

“You’re so damn selfish,” Gabriel growled. “Seriously. Everything’s always about you, huh? You think the world owes you something just because you were here first?”

I stared at the bowl. My hands trembled slightly. But not from fear.

Just fatigue.

“She didn’t ask to get hurt,” Nathan added. “You’ve been nothing but cold since she got back. She’s trying, and you just… sulk. You’re jealous. Admit it.”

Jealous.

That word again.

The word they always used to shut me down.

I put my spoon down slowly.

“I’m not jealous,” I whispered. “I’m just… done.”

But they didn’t hear it. Or maybe they did and just didn’t care.

Suddenly, Gabriel slammed his palm on the table, making the spoon rattle. I flinched.

“You know what?” he snapped. “You really are nothing compared to her.”

Then, without warning, he grabbed my bowl and threw it against the wall.

The ceramic shattered. The soup dripped down like blood.

I stared at the mess.

Nathan didn’t stop him.

Neither of them did.

“Useless,” Gabriel muttered, shaking his head. “You’re just… useless.”

The words echoed in the air, thick and heavy.

They left the room again, their footsteps fading down the hallway.

I stood there, staring at the broken bowl. The mess they didn’t even try to clean.

And strangely…

I didn’t cry.

Not this time.

Not anymore.

Because I was past that.