The night I had drunken sex with Aaliyah, she'd just broken up with her boyfriend Logan. In the end, she married me. My marriage was quiet and happy. I once thought we'd be together forever. Until Logan died of illness, and she went to his funeral. That's when she found out Logan had originally wanted to get back together with her—but he'd walked in on us having sex, so he gave up. Aaliyah hated me to the bone after that. She insisted on divorcing me and humiliated me in every way she could. As I lay dying, she leaned in and whispered in my ear: "Your love disgusts me." When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the night she and Logan broke up. This time, when she tried to seduce me, I grabbed my coat, ran out of the room, and knocked on her ex-boyfriend's door. Logan froze when he saw me. His eyes were red and swollen—he'd clearly been crying. "Charles? What are you—" "Logan." I tried to keep my voice steady. "Can I come in and talk?" The living room was a mess. Half a birthday cake sat on the table. I gave him a small smile and got straight to the point: "I came to apologize for my sister. She forgot your birthday—that was her fault." Logan pressed his lips together, silent. "It's not that she doesn't love you. She's just never been good at expressing herself. After you said you wanted to break up, she went to a bar to drink alone." I paused. "Logan, go find her." In my last life, even after Aaliyah married me, she'd drink alone every year on Logan's birthday. She never got over him. Logan looked at me, then suddenly smiled—though his tears fell harder. "Aaliyah's so cold and distant. How did she end up with such a sweet brother like you?" "I'm going right now." "Thank you, Charles." After I told Logan which bar Aaliyah was at, he changed clothes and headed out. I watched him leave and let out a long breath. In this life, that night would never happen. When I got home, I dug out the diary I'd hidden in the back of a drawer. I'd been on the streets at ten years old, when eighteen-year-old Aaliyah found me. She was cold to outsiders, but gentle with me. When I first started understanding love, I knew—I was in love with her. But it was a feeling I could never speak aloud. I took out the diary and tore it apart, page by page. The shreds dropped into the toilet, and I flushed them down myself. About two hours later, the door opened. Logan helped a very drunk Aaliyah inside. She was clinging to him, mumbling: "Logan… don't break up with me… I was wrong… I really was…" Logan sighed helplessly, agreeing over and over: "Okay, okay, we won't break up." When he saw me, he looked relieved. "Charles, could you pour her a glass of milk? Let me get her to her room first." "Sure." Logan helped her into the bedroom. I stood in the kitchen waiting for the water to boil, listening to the sounds drifting from the bedroom. She was being playful. He was laughing. The first time Aaliyah brought me to meet Logan in my last life, I knew—they were perfect for each other. Logan was gentle and thoughtful. Good family, good upbringing. He'd always been kind to me too. He was a good man. If it weren't for me, he wouldn't have died. They would have been happy. In this life, I'd make it right.
Logan stayed the whole night taking care of Aaliyah. The next morning, when I went downstairs, Aaliyah was busy in the kitchen. She'd fried eggs, warmed milk, and cut toast into triangles, arranging them neatly on a plate. Then she carried it over to Logan, her voice soft: "Eat up while it's hot." Logan grinned and poked her. "Since when did you become so good at taking care of people?" Her eyes settled on his face. She didn't reply, but her lips curved up. In my last life, after we got married, she used to cook for me too. When I was sick, she'd clumsily make me plain rice porridge. I stopped at the foot of the stairs. "Charles, come have breakfast." Logan waved me over. Aaliyah glanced up at me, her gaze flat. No extra words. No expression. I sat down at the table, and she got up, leaving an empty seat between us. She looked at me like I was a stranger. It reminded me of the cold cruelty in her eyes when she forced me out of our marriage with nothing. After I shoved a piece of bread into my mouth, I stood up. "I'm full. I have class. I'm heading out." Logan said, "Already? You haven't even finished your milk—" "I'm running late." I grabbed my backpack and escaped out the door. I spent the whole day at the library, researching study-abroad programs and filling out applications. In my last life, I'd given up the chance to study abroad just to stay near Aaliyah. This time, I was going far, far away. I'd live for myself. That night, I'd planned to stay at the dorm, but Logan called. "Charles, come home for dinner! I have big news!" When I got home, Aaliyah opened the door. She frowned when she saw me. "Why are you back?" Clearly, she hadn't been the one to invite me. "Logan said he had something to tell me," I said quietly. Logan poked his head out of the kitchen. "Charles is back!" He pushed me onto the couch and shoved the remote into my hands. "Watch some TV—dinner's almost ready!" Aaliyah was helping him in the kitchen. Through the glass door, I could see her tilting her head down to listen to him talk, the corners of her lips lifted slightly, her eyes so soft they could melt. She'd cooked for me before, too. On my birthday, she'd canceled her work plans and made an entire spread of dishes for me. "What are you spacing out for?" Logan caught me staring and pushed Aaliyah out of the kitchen. "Go keep Charles company. I'll handle the soup." Aaliyah wiped her hands and sat down on the single armchair across from me. There was a wide gap between us. The silence stretched. Some boring variety show was playing on the TV. The canned laughter sounded grating. "Charles." Aaliyah suddenly spoke. I looked over. She met my eyes, her gaze heavy. "Focus on your studies. Stay grounded. Don't think about things you shouldn't." My heart clenched hard. Things I shouldn't think about. In her eyes, my feelings for her were something I shouldn't even have. In my last life, when she found my diary, she'd said: "Charles, you really disgust me." She thought I'd schemed against her, that I was greedy for what wasn't mine. But I'd only loved her. I never said a single word to Logan to come between them. She didn't believe me. "I understand," I heard myself say calmly. "I won't." At dinner, Logan announced excitedly: "Aaliyah proposed to me today!" He held out his hand—the engagement ring sparkled under the light. "Congratulations," I said with a genuine smile. "I hope you two are happy." Aaliyah's hand paused mid-air, fork hovering. She looked up at me. I kept my head down and pretended not to notice. After dinner, I volunteered to clean up. Faint laughter drifted from the living room. Logan was talking about his vision for the wedding, and Aaliyah's voice answered low and indulgent. After washing the dishes, I dried my hands and went to tell them I had to head back to school. Just as I reached the living room doorway, I heard Aaliyah's voice: "…After he graduates, let's have him move out. I'll buy him an apartment near his school. He's a grown man—it's not really appropriate for him to keep living with us." Logan disagreed: "But it's not safe for Charles to live alone." "And you're his sister—what's wrong with him living with us?" Aaliyah's voice was flat. "He's grown. He should have his own life. We need our own space too." I stood frozen for a moment, then didn't listen to any more. I turned, slipped quietly upstairs, grabbed my bag, and left. After I'd walked far enough away, I sent Logan a message: "Logan, something came up at school, I had to head back. Goodnight." I took a deep breath. Moving out was for the best. The farther away, the safer.
Three days later, while researching at the library, something hit me like a thunderbolt. In my last life, Logan had died of bone cancer. By the time it was found, it was already terminal. Which meant—right now, the cancer cells might already be in his body. I shot to my feet, knocking over my chair. People around me turned to stare. I didn't bother apologizing. I rushed out of the library, calling Logan as I ran. "Logan, are you free this afternoon? I want to take you out for coffee." At the café, when I told him I wanted him to come with me for a physical, he laughed. "Charles, why the sudden interest in a checkup? Are you not feeling well?" I made up a reason. "School's organizing it. Logan, I'm scared to go alone—will you come with me?" He looked at me skeptically. "Really?" I tried to look as sincere as possible. "Really. And I'd like you to get checked out too. Think of it as… a pre-marriage physical? You're going to marry my sister, after all." Logan's ears turned red. He sighed helplessly. "You…" Just then, his phone rang. It was Aaliyah. "Where are you?" "Having coffee with Charles." There was silence on the other end. "Come home soon." After hanging up, Logan teased her, "She's so clingy." I forced a smile, made an excuse about class, and arranged to see him on the weekend. Just as I reached the school gate, I saw Aaliyah's car parked there. She got out, grabbed my wrist, and dragged me to the corner. Before I could react, she shoved me away. I stumbled, fell to the ground. My knee and elbow burned. I looked down—the skin was scraped raw, blood oozing out. She stood over me, eyes cold as ice. "Charles, I'm warning you. Stay away from Logan." "Don't say things you shouldn't say. Don't do things you shouldn't do." I pushed myself up, my voice trembling slightly. "I didn't." "I just wanted him to come with me to a physical." She paused. "Are you sick?" The words slipped out almost without thought. I blinked, stunned, then shook my head. "No. School requires it." She stared at me for a long time, her expression slowly shifting. Like she'd remembered something. Or was trying to confirm something. After a moment, she crouched down and looked at the cut on my knee. "Get in the car." She took me to a pharmacy, bought iodine and bandages, and crouched on the curb to clean my wound. She wasn't gentle, but she was careful. Her voice was low. "This weekend, I'll take both of you for the checkup." I stared at the tip of my shoe, my vision blurring. The day the results came in, Logan cried so hard his whole body shook. Early-stage bone cancer. The doctor said, "We caught it just in time. The cure rate is very high." Aaliyah hugged Logan, her hands trembling with delayed fear. Logan looked at me with red eyes. "Charles, thank you… really, thank you." I shook my head and patted his back. Aaliyah's gaze passed over Logan's shoulder and landed on me. Deep. Heavy. I remembered the day Logan died in my last life. It had been pouring rain. After Aaliyah found out he'd left her because he saw us spend a night together, she stood at his grave for an entire day, soaked through. When she got home, she smashed everything she could—then found the diary I'd hidden at the bottom of my drawer. She decided I'd told Logan on purpose. I tried to explain. She didn't believe me. She divorced me, kicked me out with nothing, made sure I couldn't find a job anywhere. In the end, I died of illness in a rented room. With no one beside me. Now, there was still time. Logan would live. Aaliyah wouldn't blame me. And me—I'd leave. A weight finally lifted from my chest. By the time we left the hospital, the sun was setting. Aaliyah went to handle the admission paperwork. Logan and I sat in the lobby waiting. Logan whispered, "Charles, I'm scared." I patted his shoulder. "Don't be. My sister's here. She'll stay with you."
Logan was admitted to the hospital. The surgery went well. Next came chemotherapy. Aaliyah cleared her entire work schedule, staying at the hospital with him every day. I was running between school and the hospital, while also preparing my study-abroad applications. I barely had time to breathe. One day, after coming back from the hospital, Aaliyah stopped me. "Charles." I paused and turned to look at her. She held out a key. "I bought an apartment near your school. Two bedrooms, already furnished. You should… move in as soon as possible." I froze for a second, then took it and nodded. "Okay." No questions. No hesitation. She watched me, like she was searching my face for something. But I just calmly pocketed the key and turned to go upstairs. The next day, I started packing. Most of my stuff, I planned to donate or throw out. In the new apartment, I'd buy everything new. Start a brand new life. I came home later and later. I was barely at the dinner table. Things in my room dwindled day by day. The bookshelf empty. The closet empty. Only a single jewelry box left on the desk. That night, I didn't get home until past ten. Aaliyah was sitting on the living room couch, no lights on. In the dark, the tip of her cigarette glowed and faded. "You're back late," she said, voice cold. "Where were you?" My hand paused as I changed shoes. "Something at school." After putting my shoes on, I walked straight to my room. Behind me came the sound of a glass hitting the table. Logan's chemo went smoothly. Three months later, the doctor said he was recovering well and could go home, with regular checkups. The day he was discharged, I went too. He'd lost a lot of weight, but he was in good spirits. Aaliyah went to handle the discharge paperwork. Logan and I waited in the room. "Charles." Logan suddenly said. "Did you and Aaliyah… have a fight?" I froze. Logan sighed. "She's been in such a bad mood lately." "People at the company complain to me—they avoid her whenever they see her." I didn't say anything. Logan took my hand. "I know about her making you move out." "I gave her hell for it. Don't worry—as long as I'm here, that's still your home." I gripped his hand back, looking at him seriously. "Logan. I've grown up. I should have my own life. And I'm already filing my study-abroad paperwork. I might leave next year." Logan's eyes went wide. "Study abroad? Where? For how long?" "England. Grad school. Probably two or three years." His eyes welled up again. "Then… you'll be alone over there. Take good care of yourself. Tell us if anything comes up, okay?" "Mm." Logan wiped his eyes, then suddenly grinned. "Charles, let me set you up with a friend of mine. She's a junior from my old school, an architect, super sweet." I shook my head. "It's okay, Logan." "What do you mean it's okay? You'll be so lonely all by yourself." I hesitated, then told him the truth. "Actually… I'm already seeing someone." "What?" Logan's eyes went wide again. "We met when I was filing my paperwork. We're applying to the same school." Logan's eyes lit up, and he clapped his hands. "That's great! I have to tell your sister! We'd better check this girl out first—can't have anyone playing you!" "You don't need to—" I tried to stop him, but he'd already picked up his phone. "Oh, she's back." Logan put his phone down and looked at the door. Aaliyah pushed the door open, discharge papers in hand. When she saw the two of us getting along so well, her gaze darkened. "What's got you two so happy?" She walked over and naturally hooked her arm through Logan's. Logan tilted his head up at her, his eyes shining. "I was just saying I should set Charles up with someone. Guess what?" She glanced at me, her tone certain. "He turned you down." "You're right—he didn't agree." She gave a flat little hum. "He's been clingy to me his whole life. He didn't even want to live in the dorms in college. You think he'd want a girlfriend?" Logan chuckled and added, "But he says he already has a girlfriend! And he's going abroad with her!"
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