Chapter 2

The phone call ended, leaving a deafening silence in its wake. My aunt's words, Diego' s name, echoed in the empty space where my heart used to be. Brandon emerged from the boardroom, his face a mask of strained composure. He saw me, frozen in the alcove, and his eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed with a flicker of panic. His perfectly coiffed hair was slightly disheveled, a stark contrast to his usual impeccable appearance. He looked like a man caught in a lie, which, of course, he was.

"Averi?" he breathed, his voice a ragged whisper. "What are you doing here?"

I looked at him, my gaze unwavering, cold. "I just heard the verdict," I said, my voice flat, devoid of any emotion. I watched his face crumple, the color draining from his cheeks. His jaw tightened, a muscle twitching uncontrollably. He knew what I meant. He knew I had heard everything.

He took a step towards me, his hand reaching out, but I recoiled, a visceral reaction that surprised even myself. "Averi, baby, I can explain," he pleaded, his voice cracking. "Please, just let me explain. It' s not what you think."

It is exactly what I think, Brandon. It' s worse.

He tried to gather his thoughts, his eyes darting around as if searching for an escape route. "I... I know it sounds bad. But Kendal, she was really struggling. She needs me. I couldn' t just... abandon her."

I watched him, a hollow ache in my chest. He was still trying to justify it. Still prioritizing her. He looked so genuinely distraught, so pitiful. For a fleeting second, a pang of my old affection stirred, a whisper of the girl who had loved him for thirteen years. But it was quickly drowned out by the roaring tide of betrayal and anger.

"I heard the part about the corporate penalty," I said, my voice still eerily calm. "You fabricating the issue. You accepting the punishment. All for her."

His shoulders slumped. He looked defeated, exposed. "Averi, please. Just a little more time. I' ll fix this, I swear. I' ll talk to Kendal. I' ll make her understand. We' ll get married, I promise. This time, for real."

His words, once the most precious sounds in the world, now felt like ash in my mouth. A little more time? After five years? After a hundred deliberate sabotages? How much more time could he possibly ask for? My silence was my answer. My pain was a physical weight, pressing down on my lungs, making it impossible to speak.

Before he could say anything more, a wave of dizziness washed over him. He stumbled, clutching his arm. I noticed then, for the first time, a dark stain spreading on the sleeve of his expensive suit jacket. He had accepted his "penalty." A deep gash, bleeding freely. He must have done it after the board vote, a show for them, a self-inflicted wound to maintain his facade of martyrdom.

"Brandon!" I gasped, a reflex, despite my shattered heart.

He grimaced, pain flashing in his eyes. "It' s fine. Just... a scratch."

But it wasn't. The wound looked deep. He needed medical attention. My lawyer's brain kicked in, detached and practical, overriding the emotional devastation for a moment.

We ended up in the emergency room. The fluorescent lights hummed, casting a sterile glow on Brandon' s pale face. A doctor cleaned and stitched the wound, administering a tetanus shot. I sat in a plastic chair in the waiting room, watching him through the glass. The distance felt appropriate. Necessary.

Suddenly, the doors burst open. Kendal, her eyes wide and bloodshot, her face streaked with tears, rushed in. She wore a flimsy silk blouse, her dark hair disheveled, as if she had just rolled out of bed. She spotted Brandon, her gaze fixing on his bandaged arm, and a strangled cry escaped her lips.

"Brandon! What happened?!" she shrieked, rushing towards him, oblivious to the doctor' s warning. "Oh my God, your arm! Who did this to you?!"

She turned, her furious gaze sweeping the room, landing on me like a venomous dart. "You! It was you, wasn' t it? You pushed him! You drove him to this!"

My jaw dropped. Her audacity, her immediate assumption of my malice, stunned me into silence.

Brandon, despite his pain, pushed her away, his voice sharp and unyielding. "Kendal, stop. This has nothing to do with Averi. It' s my business. Stay out of it."

His harsh tone seemed to shock her. She froze, her mouth agape, tears welling in her eyes. The picture of wounded innocence, just as he had described her.

"But... but Brandon," she stammered, her voice trembling. "I just... I was so worried about you. You didn' t come home last night. I thought something terrible had happened."

"I told you to stay home," he stated, his voice cold. "This is not your concern."

Her shoulders shook, and a fresh wave of tears cascaded down her face. She looked at Brandon, then at me, her eyes filled with a mixture of heartbreak and pure, unadulterated hatred. She whirled around and fled from the emergency room, her sobs echoing in the quiet corridor.

I watched her go, a strange mix of emotions swirling inside me. Pity, perhaps, for her obvious distress. But mostly, a chilling clarity. This was the 'fragility' Brandon spoke of. This was the manipulation.

Brandon turned to me, his gaze pleading. "Averi, I swear, she just gets like that sometimes. She doesn' t mean it. She' s just... emotionally unstable."

"Emotionally unstable," I repeated, the words tasting like poison. "Or deeply manipulative."

"No!" he insisted, perhaps a little too vehemently. "She' s not. She' s just... scared. She lost her parents young, Averi. She clings to me. She' s terrified of being alone."

"And you allow her to use that fear to control you," I stated, not as a question, but as a plain, undeniable fact. "To control our lives."

He winced, the truth in my words visibly striking him. "I' m going to fix this, Averi," he said, his voice filled with a desperate earnestness. "I' m going to send her away. Get her the help she needs. I promise. Just... don' t leave me."

Don' t leave me. The words hung in the air, weighted with years of unspoken expectations and unfulfilled promises. But it was too late. The words from my aunt, Diego' s name, had already planted a different seed in my mind. A seed of escape. Of freedom.

I looked at him, truly looked at him, and for the first time, I saw not the man I loved, but a man trapped. A man whose weakness had become a weapon against me. And I knew, with a certainty that settled deep into my bones, that I could no longer be a part of his gilded cage.

"I' m leaving, Brandon," I said, my voice barely a whisper, yet it rang with the force of a final decree.

His eyes widened, reflecting a raw, primal fear. "What? No! Averi, you can' t. Where would you go?"

"Somewhere far away," I replied, my gaze drifting to the window, to the city lights twinkling in the distance. "Somewhere I can breathe."

He tried to argue, to plead, but his words were muffled by the sterile efficiency of the hospital. I simply turned and walked away, leaving him to his physical pain and his emotional prison.

The next few days were a blur of cold, detached efficiency. I submitted my resignation from my lucrative corporate law position, arranging for its transfer to an international branch of my firm. The shock of Brandon' s betrayal had been so profound that it had almost numbed me, allowing me to handle the logistics with a calm I didn't truly feel. Each document signed, each email sent, was another step away from the life I had built with him, another brick laid on the path to my new, unknown future.

Brandon called countless times, his messages escalating from pleading to desperate. I ignored them all. I was leaving. There was nothing left to say.

The day before my departure, he called again, his voice filled with an almost manic excitement. "Averi! Great news! My arm is healing perfectly. And I' ve got a surprise for you! A special celebration. Just for us. Tomorrow night. I' ll pick you up at seven."

A surprise. A celebration. He still didn' t get it. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. He was so completely oblivious to the crater he had left in my life.

The next evening, at precisely seven, Brandon' s luxury sedan pulled up. Kendal was in the passenger seat. My stomach clenched. Of course.

"Kendal?" I asked, my voice flat, as I got into the back seat.

Brandon turned, a forced smile on his face. "Oh, she just wanted to wish us well, didn' t you, Ken?"

Kendal offered a saccharine smile that didn' t reach her eyes. "Yes, Averi. I' m so happy for you two." Her eyes, however, held a malevolent glint.

I simply nodded, my gaze fixed on the passing scenery. I didn' t trust her, and I didn' t trust him.

He blindfolded me, a playful gesture that now felt like a sinister metaphor. "No peeking, my love. It' s a surprise!"

I let him, my mind strangely detached. What difference did it make? The blindness was merely physical. My eyes had been opened.

The car stopped. He helped me out, guiding me forward. The air was cool, carrying the faint scent of stale cigarette smoke and something sweet, like old flowers. He untied the blindfold.

I blinked, adjusting to the dim light. We were in an abandoned warehouse. Dust motes danced in the single beam of light filtering through a grimy window. A faded banner, strung haphazardly above us, proclaimed: "Congratulations, Averi & Brandon! 100th Time' s the Charm!"

My heart sank. This was our old 'secret spot.' Where we used to sneak away from family functions, where he first told me he loved me. The irony was a cruel twist.

He beamed, unaware of the cold dread creeping through me. "I know it' s a bit rustic, but I wanted it to be private. Just us. Our place."

Our place. It felt desecrated, cheapened by its current state. And by his lies.

He snapped his fingers, and a small band I hadn't noticed in the corner struck up our song. A single spotlight illuminated a table set for two, adorned with wilted roses. Even the roses looked tired, clinging to a beauty that was long gone.

"I booked the whole place," he announced proudly. "Just like old times. Averi, my love, a hundred votes later, and we finally made it."

I forced a smile, my lips feeling stiff. "It' s... lovely, Brandon." The words tasted like ash.

My eyes scanned the room. The cheap plastic tablecloth, the wilting flowers, the banner slightly askew. It was all wrong. It wasn' t a celebration. It was a poorly executed reenactment of a past that no longer existed. It was as if he was trying to paper over the gaping wound of his betrayal with sentimental gestures.

Brandon, however, seemed oblivious. He noticed the wilting roses first. His brow furrowed. "What' s this? These aren' t the roses I ordered! And the banner is crooked! Who arranged this?" he fumed, turning to a cowering event coordinator lurking in the shadows.

"Sir, I... I tried," the coordinator stammered, wringing his hands. "But Ms. Scott, your sister, she insisted on making some... adjustments. She said you wanted a 'more authentic, rustic feel' ."

Brandon' s face darkened. He shot a furious glance at Kendal, who was leaning against a stack of crates, casually filing her nails. She offered a shrug, an innocent "Who, me?" expression on her face.

"Kendal!" Brandon growled. "What did you do?"

"Just trying to help, big brother," she simpered, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "You said Averi loved rustic, natural things. I thought it was perfect."

Brandon turned back to me, attempting to salvage the situation. "Averi, I' m so sorry. She always meddles. She just doesn' t understand."

I just sat down, my eyes fixed on the sad, wilting roses. My heart was a stone.

Then, a waiter brought out a cake. A beautiful, multi-tiered confection. On top, a miniature bride and groom stood awkwardly.

I stared at it, a choked laugh escaping my lips. The cake was adorned with marzipan lavender. My eyes were burning.

"What' s wrong?" Brandon asked, perplexed.

"Lavender," I said, my voice empty. "I'm severely allergic to lavender."

Brandon' s eyes widened in horror. He turned to Kendal. "Kendal! You knew! You know Averi is allergic to lavender!"

Kendal merely shrugged, a smirk playing on her lips. "Oh, did I? My mistake. There are so many flowers, Brandon. It' s hard to keep track."

Brandon let out a roar of frustration. "That' s it! Kendal, I' ve had enough of your games!" He stormed towards her, his face a mask of incandescent rage. "Go home! Now!"

He grabbed her arm, pulling her towards the exit. She stumbled, then dug in her heels. "No! I' m not leaving! I want to stay for your celebration!"

"There is no celebration!" Brandon thundered. "Not with you here making everything a mess!"

He dragged her out, their shouts echoing through the empty warehouse. I followed slowly, drawn by a morbid curiosity.

He pushed her into a dusty storage room at the back. "What is wrong with you?" he demanded, his voice trembling with fury. "Why do you always do this? Why do you try to ruin everything for me and Averi?"

Kendal' s eyes snapped, wild and desperate. "Because I love you, Brandon! Don' t you see? I only want you to be happy! And she doesn' t make you happy! She' s taking you away from me!"

My blood ran cold. The words, raw and unhinged, were a confession.

"You don' t love Averi!" Kendal shrieked, her voice cracking. "You love me! You always have! Remember all those times, Brandon? When we were kids? You always swore you' d never leave me!"

Brandon buried his face in his hands. "Kendal, stop. You' re my sister. My adopted sister. That' s all you' ll ever be."

"No!" she cried, a deranged glint in her eyes. "It' s more than that! It always has been! You just refuse to admit it!" She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a seductive whisper. "You know how much I want you, Brandon. How much I need you. More than she ever could."

Brandon pushed her back. "Kendal, stop this! I love Averi! I always have!"

"Then why haven' t you married her in thirteen years?" she shot back, a triumphant sneer on her face. "Why have you always chosen me over her? Why did you accept the penalties, time and time again, when all you had to do was say yes to the board?"

He flinched, the truth of her words hitting him hard. I watched from the doorway, a ghost.

"Because you were struggling!" he yelled, his voice desperate. "Because I felt responsible! Because I thought if I just gave you enough time, you' d understand!"

"Understand what, Brandon?" she purred, her eyes fixed on him. "That you' re too weak to choose? That you love me, but you' re too much of a coward to admit it?"

She stepped closer, her hand reaching for his face. "Kiss me, Brandon. Just once. Prove you still feel something for me."

He hesitated. A flicker of something, guilt or weakness, crossed his face. My heart hammered against my ribs, a desperate, dying bird.

"You owe me this," she whispered, her voice laced with venom. "For all the years I' ve waited. For all the times I' ve sacrificed for you." She paused, a glint in her eye. "It' s my birthday, Brandon. And our adoption anniversary. You promised me anything I wanted."

My blood ran cold. Her birthday. Our anniversary. He had forgotten. Or perhaps, he had simply chosen to ignore it.

Brandon closed his eyes, a groan escaping his lips. He leaned in, a feather-light touch of his lips on hers. It was a kiss of obligation, of resignation, of misplaced loyalty.

But then, something shifted. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. His free hand, the one not sporting a bandage, went to her waist, pulling her flush against him. The kiss deepened. It became long, lingering, a betrayal that tore through my soul. My breath hitched. It wasn' t a kiss of pity anymore. It was a kiss of passion. A kiss of possession.

My world shattered. The last vestiges of hope, the fragile threads of my love, snapped with a deafening crack. I felt nothing but a cold, desolate emptiness.

They broke apart, breathless, their eyes locked. Kendal' s face was flushed with triumph, a smirk playing on her lips. Brandon' s eyes, however, held a strange mixture of shame and something else, something I couldn' t quite name.

They turned, as if on cue, and walked out of the storage room, hand-in-hand. Brandon saw me, standing like a statue in the doorway, my face a blank mask. His eyes widened, then filled with a fresh wave of panic.

"Averi! I... I just... I was trying to placate her," he stammered, his voice desperate, obviously lying. "I sent her away. She won' t bother us anymore." He looked at Kendal, who offered me a fake, apologetic smile. "Didn' t I, Ken?"

Kendal giggled, a high-pitched, infuriating sound. "Oh, Brandon, you' re so silly. We just had a little talk. I told Averi I was sorry for the cake. Didn' t I, Averi?" She winked at me, a blatant act of provocation.

I stared at her, then back at Brandon, the man who had just kissed his sister with a passion he rarely showed me. The man who was now lying through his teeth, covering for her, defending her. My vision blurred, tears pricking at my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Not now. Not in front of them.

I closed my eyes for a moment, a bitter, hollow laugh escaping my lips. This was my love story. A tragic comedy of errors, orchestrated by him, fueled by her.

When I opened my eyes, all traces of emotion were gone. My face was a blank slate. My voice, when it came, was steady, calm, and utterly devoid of passion.

"Brandon," I said, looking him dead in the eye, "It' s over. We' re done. And just so you know, I accepted Diego Riddle' s marriage proposal this morning."