I first met Oliver when I was twelve and back then, he was still my older brother.

Angela Mortimer, on the other hand, was my adoptive mother.

After my parents passed away, my grandmother, having spent all her savings on a serious illness, was unable to support me.

It was during this time that Oliver’s mother offered to take me in, as a way to repay a past act of saving her life.

At that time, the Mortimer Family—three of them—had come to the island for a cheerful family vacation.

Angela couldn’t swim and was swept away by a wave while playing by the sea. My mother risked her life to rescue her and that’s how their bond began.

At the time, I was too young to remember much about it.

I only knew that gifts would occasionally arrive during holidays.

When news of my parents' death reached her, Angela came to the island herself.

“Emmy, don’t worry. I will take care of you as if you were my own child. Come with me.”

She was a remarkably kind person and almost without thinking, I placed my hand in hers and followed her.

It was my first time leaving the island, my first glimpse of a bustling city and my first encounter with Oliver.

The young man sat quietly by the window, absorbed in a book—clean and radiant.

He reminded me of the summer sea glistening under the sun, captivating and mesmerizing.

I felt a flutter in my heart. But still, I addressed him obediently.

“Brother.”

He closed the book, revealing a pair of charming teeth and smiled warmly.

“Long time no see, Emma.”

My foster mother enrolled us both in the same middle school and later, the same high school.

Oliver introduced me to all his friends and that’s how I met Luna.

Life with the Mortimer Family was, in fact, quite pleasant.

Angela, my foster mother, worried I might face hardships. So, she gave me a generous allowance—more money than I had ever seen.

I divided it into three parts: one third went to my grandmother, another was donated to secure some blessings for my parents in the afterlife and I kept a small portion for myself.

Despite this windfall, I remained as frugal as ever.

The wealthy kids at school couldn’t hide their disdain for me, the newcomer from the countryside. They would huddle in groups, snickering about the "fishy smell" they claimed I had and would dramatically pinch their noses whenever I walked by.

They would often gather in groups, remarking on the fishy smell they claimed I carried and would deliberately pinch their noses whenever I walked by.

Unable to hold back any longer, I grabbed a bucket of dirty mop water from the restroom and threw it all over them.

Just as their fists were about to land on me, Oliver appeared out of nowhere, wrapping his arms around me and shielding me from every blow.

He ended up with some bruises, but I was unscathed.

When Angela came to pick us up from school, Oliver and I stood in the hallway, laughing and joking, completely unbothered by our punishment.

I realized then that I had feelings for him.

What began as innocent affection during our growing years soon blossomed into something deeper as we spent more time together.

Even though I knew he treated me well only because of our adoption, because I was what he called his sister, this despicable emotion still grew increasingly uncontrollable.

Until he kissed Luna.

On the day of our high school graduation, our class organized a dinner party and played a game of Truth or Dare.

Oliver drew a card that required him to spin the wheel and kiss the designated girl on the cheek for ten seconds.

When the wheel's pointer landed on me, Oliver's embarrassment was visibly apparent.

"Emmy is my sister. It’s totally inappropriate for a brother to kiss his sister."

So he walked over, his ears turning a deep shade of red.

He leaned in with his cool, fragrant body and kissed Luna, who sat next to me with an expectant look on her face.

In those ten seconds of surrounding uproar, my heart shattered completely.

For the first time, I experienced the feeling of getting hopelessly drunk.

I wanted the alcohol to numb this heartache that made it hard to breathe.

Oliver, with a furrowed brow, carried me into the car and drove me home.

"Oliver, do you like Luna?"

He placed me on the soft bed in my bedroom, gently withdrawing his arm from beneath my neck.

Emboldened by the alcohol, I grabbed his collar and steadied my voice to ask him.

I wanted an answer.

Oliver didn’t reply. Instead, he reached out and smoothed my furrowed brow.

"Call me brother," he sighed.

"Be good, Emmy and get some sleep."

I refused to let go, gripping his hand tightly.

"Oliver, do you really not like me at all?"

The bedroom was dark, with only some dazzling moonlight spilling in by the window, casting a beautiful, hazy glow on him.

He remained silent, eerily quiet. Even if he told me he didn’t like me at all and only saw me as a sister. I would give up all my hopes immediately. But he didn't.

I ran out of patience. I pulled his body forcefully and pressed my alcohol-laced lips to his cool ones.

It was a moment of madness.

Since that kiss, Oliver had been avoiding me, refusing to see me.

He hated me.

I was determined to stay out of his sight.

Thus, when the time comes, I chose a university far from Nightfall City, putting as much distance between us as possible.

He and Luna stayed behind to continue their studies.

For four years, I avoided coming home, dodging any chance of awkward encounters with him.

During the holidays, I took on various odd jobs, sending the money I earned to my grandmother and buying small gifts to send to my adoptive mother.

I thought I had forgotten him—forgotten his voice, forgotten his face.

So, I set my burdens aside and enjoyed a carefree college life.

In my sophomore year, I started dating Hudson Eagleton, who had been pursuing me. He was nothing like Oliver. Hudson was sharp and charming, a real hit with the girls. With him, I never had to wonder if he loved me because he constantly proclaimed it.

I told my adoptive mother about my relationship and she was thrilled, constantly saying she wanted to meet my boyfriend.

After two years of dating Hudson and nearing graduation, I decided to bring him back to the Mortimer manor.

I hadn’t anticipated that Oliver would be there as well.

He appeared more composed than I remembered, dressed in a crisp white shirt and silver-framed glasses.

I did my best to dodge his gaze, nervously greeting him with a stilted "brother."

He simply nodded in response, his silence as heavy as ever.

At the dinner table, my adoptive mother chatted with Hudson about many things.

When she asked about our future plans, he smiled warmly.

"Don’t worry, Auntie. I’ll take good care of Emmy. After graduation, I’ll marry her."

My adoptive mother was overjoyed, her face beaming as she held and stroked my hand, tears welling up in her eyes.

“That’s wonderful, Emmy. Your parents can finally rest easy,” she said.

Everyone at the table shared in the happiness. The only one who remained silent and brooding was Oliver, nursing his drink in solitude.

What could possibly be bothering him?

I’d heard from high school friends that he and Luna had been together for years and were very much in love.

He shouldn’t be this downcast.

With Hudson invited to stay the night, I retreated to my room to unwind.

The night deepened and a sense of quiet settled over the house.

A soft knock echoed from outside the door.

Oliver, reeking of alcohol, stood in the doorway.

Wearing just a spaghetti strap nightgown, I asked him softly, “Brother, is something wrong?”

Without answering, he quickly stepped inside, pressing the door shut behind him and trapping me in his cool, fragrant embrace.

“Emma, do you really like that man so much?”

“Enough to ignore me for four whole years?”

I was taken aback. Wasn’t he the one who had avoided me?

Wasn’t he the one who had hated me?

But my heart raced like a drum, leaving me unable to find my voice.

Did I love Hudson? I wasn’t sure.

But being with him gave me a sense of security.

I never had to doubt whether he cared for me because he patiently told me over and over again.

I supposed that feeling secure was a kind of love.

I nodded gently and his eyes quickly dimmed as he asked me.

"Then, do you still have feelings for me?"

"Is there even a trace of emotion left for me?"

A wave of deep, dense sorrow surged through my heart.

Did I still like him? I suppose I did.

From the very first moment I saw him again, I knew I could never forget him.

But if I spoke up now, everything would change.

So I chose silence, just like on that reckless night four years ago.

Unable to wait for my answer, he wept as he gently cupped my face in his hands and kissed me with abandon.

"Emmy, love me. Continue loving me."

"Please."

Then, a long-suppressed desire surged through me, dragging me into a hellish abyss.

I was pregnant. My adoptive mother, in tears, lashed out at him with a fierce reprimand. Oliver, bruised and kneeling, promised he would take responsibility.

So he married me.

There was no engagement party, no wedding—just a marriage certificate.

I had betrayed Hudson and he had betrayed Luna. We were both wretched.

After the wedding, life settled into a dull routine. I ended things with Hudson and moved back to the Mortimer family home, living with my adoptive mother while I carried the baby.

Oliver hired a nanny to look after me and visited from time to time, but I had no clue what occupied him the rest of the time.

Until I saw in Luna’s social media posts that he was out shopping with her.

I thought this was the punishment I deserved for my greed, so I had no right to question him. I planned to give birth to the baby and then return Oliver to Luna.

They were the ones truly in love.

My health, never the best, made the pregnancy especially difficult. The baby’s position was unstable and I endured endless morning sickness and deep, unrelenting fatigue.

When I collapsed again at six months pregnant, it came with no warning.

This time, I awoke in a hospital.

Oliver was at my bedside, his face etched with a deep, haunting despair.

That was when I found out—the baby was gone.

My adoptive mother had a heart attack and also passed away.

I still can’t make sense of it.

Why did Hudson suddenly burst into my room while I was resting?

Why did he force himself on me, causing the miscarriage?

It was as if my adoptive mother was still there, calling me to get up as usual.

When I pushed open the door, I saw myself beneath Hudson, my legs surrounded by a pool of blood.

Her heart condition wasn’t good and this scene frightened her terribly; the onset of her symptoms was sudden and severe.

Oliver sat nearby, his eyes bloodshot.

“Emma, do you really like that man so much? Are you willing to sacrifice our child for him?”

I hurriedly tried to explain.

“No, I didn’t.”

But how was Hudson able to waltz into the house so easily?

How did he manage to dodge my adoptive mother and find the exact room where I was resting?

Why did he have those text messages I sent him about our date?

Every piece of evidence pointed straight to me—it was me who had betrayed them.

In the face of such damning proof, all my explanations felt utterly hollow and helpless.

He furiously tossed a divorce agreement at me, his fists clenched tight.

“I was outrageously wrong, costing my mother her life.”

“Emma, I’ll grant you your freedom. Just don’t ever show your face to me again.”

Jack drove me to a cemetery in the eastern suburbs.

It wasn’t as tranquil as the one I had initially wanted, but there were no other options at the moment.

To make matters worse, the weather was unforgiving.

Halfway through the drive, the sky opened up and rain began to pour.

I watched as Jack’s face grew ghostly pale, his hands shaking on the wheel.

It hit me—his father had died in a car accident during a downpour.

Jack must have a profound fear of storms; I could really empathize with that.

I suggested we pull over and find a nearby café to ride out the storm and kill some time.

Unfortunately, we bumped into Oliver and Luna once more. I glanced around and saw we were in a bridal shop.

“Congratulations!”

I genuinely congratulated Luna. Her face lit up with a wide, delighted smile.

“Thank you, Emma. Are you and your boyfriend here to look at wedding dresses, too?”

She emphasized the “too,” her clear eyes sweeping over Jack standing next to me.

Before I could respond, Oliver approached.

His gaze darkened as he looked at Jack’s hand resting on my waist, his tone sharp.

“I thought you were going to marry that guy. Didn’t expect you’d have moved on to someone else so quickly.”

I didn’t want to engage in the conversation.

Jack’s hand, still firmly resting on my waist, only tightened.

I looked up, waiting to hear what he would say.

“Yeah, we’ll invite Mr. Mortimer to celebrate at our wedding another time.”

I sighed at his childish need to spar and gave his sleeve a gentle tug.

“Alright, Jack.”

Oliver lowered his head, adjusting his glasses, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Sorry, but I’ve reserved this place exclusively for my wife’s fitting today. We can’t accommodate you. Please leave.”

Jack, seething, pointed a finger at Oliver.

“You!”

I placed a hand on Jack’s arm to calm him.

“Sorry, Mr. Mortimer. We just needed to get out of the rain.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow.

“What you want to do is none of my business, but I don’t want to see you in this store.”

“Not even for a minute.”

At that moment, a shop assistant stepped forward to intervene.

“I’m really sorry, but the store is closed to the public today. Please leave.”

As Jack prepared to argue further, I looked straight into Oliver’s eyes.

“Oliver, do you really dislike me this much?”

He responded with steely resolve.

“Yes.”

“If my mother hadn’t brought you back then, none of this tragedy would have happened.”

I forced a bitter smile.

“Even if what happened back then had nothing to do with me, even if I truly was—”

Oliver abruptly cut me off.

“Enough!”

His expression was strange, his hands hanging limply at his sides and he remained silent for a long moment.

“Emma, no matter what your reasons were for the past, the fact remains that my mother died because of you. I truly don’t want to see you again.”

“Not for even a minute.”

It hit me—I knew how much he hated me, knew he didn’t even want to look at me. Why would he want to hear my side of the story?

I nodded, my heart heavy.

“Okay, I understand.”

Anyway, he wouldn’t have to deal with this annoying presence much longer.

I reached out and nudged Jack’s side.

“Jack, let’s go.”

He looked at me with concern, his hand brushing my forehead. I was running a slight fever.

“But we don’t have an umbrella. You’ll get soaked.”

I managed a weak smile.

“It’s fine. It’s just a little rain. I’ll be okay.”

Rain in this season comes and goes unpredictably, never lasting too long.

“Let’s just sit in the car and wait for the rain to stop. We should have enough time.”

However, waiting in the car might not sit well with Jack.

But for now, it’s the only option we have.