Chapter 3

The next morning, Sophia came downstairs to find me sitting in the living room.

I hadn't slept.

My eyes were red and swollen, and my voice trembled when I spoke.

"Tonight..."

I started, not even sure what I was going to say.

I just knew I couldn't go on like this.

Sophia' s eyes were as icy as ever, completely devoid of the warmth she had shown for a fleeting moment the night before.

She cut me off before I could finish.

"Your temperament isn't stable yet, Ethan,"

she said, her tone light and dismissive.

"Your well-being is more important."

Her words were a stinging slap across my face.

In her eyes, I was nothing more than a desperate fool, a child who needed to be managed.

I bowed my head, suppressing the wave of bitterness that rose in my throat.

"You don't have to come home tonight,"

I said, my voice hoarse.

For the first time, Sophia looked genuinely surprised.

A flicker of something unreadable passed through her eyes.

"Didn't you tell me when we got married that you needed me home every night?"

"Is something wrong?"

Her question hung in the air, a cruel reminder of the hopeful man I used to be.

She left for work, leaving me alone in the silent house, my insides feeling like they were bleeding.

I went upstairs and started to pack a bag.

I didn't have much.

My life had become so small, revolving around her and my music.

I packed my guitar, a few changes of clothes, and my songbooks.

As I was about to leave, she called.

"What was that about this morning?"

"Some things at home are old,"

I replied flatly, closing the front door behind me.

"I'm throwing them out."

And that includes you, Sophia.

I met my bandmates at a dive bar downtown.

They were surprised to see me, a duffel bag slung over my shoulder.

Mark glanced at my left hand, noting the unadorned ring finger.

"Seriously this time?"

he asked, his expression a mix of concern and relief.

"You're really not going back to her?"

I drained my glass of whiskey in one go, the burn in my throat a welcome distraction.

I just nodded, unable to speak.

My friends, sensing my pain, didn't press.

They rallied around me, telling bad jokes and trying to cheer me up.

My phone buzzed constantly with messages from Sophia, but I ignored them.

After a few more drinks, the room started to spin.

A girl at our table, a friend of our drummer's, noticed I was swaying.

She kindly offered me a glass of water.

As I reached for it, my legs gave out, and I stumbled, almost collapsing.

The girl quickly caught me, her arm steadying me.

"Whoa, easy there,"

she said with a gentle smile.

As the dizziness subsided, I felt a presence in front of me.

I looked up and met Sophia's eyes.

They were icy and sharp, but this time, there was something else in them, a flicker of jealousy and resentment that I had never seen before.

"Didn't you see my messages?"

she asked, her voice tight.

I was taken aback.

I was about to explain about the girl beside me, about how I was just feeling dizzy, but Sophia's next words froze me in place.

"Liam's at this club."

"Come with me to find him."

My throat constricted.

I couldn't speak.

It was never about me.

She hadn't tracked me down because she was worried.

She was here because of him.

I finally pulled out my phone and saw the reason for her panic.

Liam had just posted on social media, announcing he had a new girlfriend, complete with a picture of them kissing.

I forced a sarcastic smile.

Of course.

How could she be upset about me being with another girl?

Her distress, her jealousy, it could only be about Liam.

I followed her through the crowded club for what felt like an eternity.

We finally found him on a second-floor balcony, slumped over a table, completely drunk.

Sophia's eyes turned red the moment she saw him.

She rushed to his side, helping him sit up.

"Why did you drink so much?"

she whispered, her voice thick with concern.

"What if you hurt yourself?"

I took a step back, a bitter, mocking laugh building in my chest.

She knew I couldn't handle alcohol, that it made my supposed "fragility" worse.

Yet she had never once said a word of concern when I drank.

Sophia wasn't incapable of caring; she just never cared about me.

Liam started to yell, whimpering like a petulant child.

"Sis, why were you a minute late replying to my text today?"

"You never used to be like this!"

Sophia didn't answer.

She just pulled his arm firmly, her eyes overflowing with a tenderness I had craved for seven years.

"No, I was busy."

"I didn't see your message."

"Then why are your eyes so red, Sis?"

Liam persisted, his voice tearful and demanding.

"Why are you so sad?"

Sophia lowered her head, her emotions swirling.

Under his relentless questioning, her composure finally broke.

Her voice trembled as she tried to speak.

"I... I..."

I watched them with a kind of morbid amusement, silently answering for her in my head: Because I love you.

Because you're my everything.

Because you have a new girlfriend, and I'm jealous and sad.

But I knew the composed, rational Sophia would never utter such words aloud.

Seeing them locked in their twisted drama, I felt bored.

Their relationship held no interest for me anymore.

I just wanted to leave, to get away from both of them.

I turned to go, but Liam suddenly looked up, his eyes, bloodshot and filled with venom, locking onto me.

"I know!"

he exclaimed, his voice rising to a shout.

"It must be you!"

"You, my brother-in-law, with your wicked intentions!"

"You made my sister sad!"

I paused, about to try and reason with the drunken fool, but he was already moving.

He lunged at me, his face contorted with fury, and shoved me hard.

"Die!"

"No one hurts my sister!"

I swayed at the edge of the balcony, my arms flailing as I instinctively reached for something to grab onto.

I heard people gasp.

My bandmates rushed forward, but it was too late.

Liam shoved me again, with all his strength.

The wind roared in my ears.

A sharp, throbbing pain exploded in my head, and a metallic taste filled my mouth.

With a sickening, dull thud, everything went black.