The moment the wheels touched down on the tarmac, four years of a long-distance relationship officially came to an end. I took my seat on the airport shuttle, pulled out my phone, and opened social media. That was when I saw it—a video posted on my best friend’s alt account. From high school lockers to the wedding altar. The ultimate ship finally comes true! Beyond sweet! It was a time-lapse reel. Frame by frame, it captured my girlfriend, Sienna Hayes, and my younger brother, Lucas, assembling custom LEGO scenes together. They built miniature figures holding hands, embracing, and kissing. In the final scene, Sienna sank to one knee and slid a men’s diamond band onto Lucas’s finger. My parents were standing right beside them in the background, clapping with radiant smiles. "After everything," my mother’s voice echoed in the audio, "you two were always the ones meant to be." A sudden, sharp ringing filled my ears. The noisy chatter of the bus passengers faded into deafening static. Over the past four years, every single time I brought up moving back home, my parents urged me to put my career first. Sienna and my friend Marcus always told me to "wait a little longer." It turned out that the family reunion I had spent four years yearning for was, to them, nothing more than an unwelcome intrusion. I swallowed the bitter lump in my throat, opened my email, and sent a message to the corporate HR director: I accept the international transfer. I’ll fly out to global HQ tomorrow. When I hauled my luggage through the front door of my family’s house, I stepped into a room covered in balloons and streamers. A row of shadow boxes filled with LEGO sets hung along the hallway wall: high school uniforms, holding hands, embracing, kissing, a proposal. In the very last box, a miniature figure wore a black tuxedo next to a custom plaque: Sienna & Lucas. Forever in Love. My mother was reaching up to unplug a strand of fairy lights. When she spotted me standing in the foyer, the smile vanished instantly from her face. "Nathan?" She froze, her voice dropping. "Why didn't you tell us you were coming back today?" My father, sitting in the armchair, set his glass down with a heavy frown. "You should have called." I didn't answer. My eyes drifted toward the living room sofa. Lucas was curled up beside Sienna, the diamond ring on his left hand catching the light with blinding clarity. He had suffered from severe asthma and fragile health since childhood, and my parents had raised me on a single rule: always yield to Lucas. I gave up my toys, gave up my bedroom, and gave up my parents' affection. I just never imagined that one day, I would be expected to hand over my girlfriend, too. "Nate, don't get the wrong idea," Lucas stammered, pulling back slightly as if startled. "We were... we were just having fun." As he spoke, he shrank behind Sienna. Sienna instinctively shifted her body to shield him, her eyebrows knitting together in irritation. "Nathan, don't start terrorizing him the second you step through the door." I stared at the hand she was using to protect him. I had held that hand for seven years. During our four years apart, every time we video-called, she told me how busy she was, how exhausted she felt, how I needed to be patient. I thought she was grinding just as hard as I was to build a future for us. It turned out she simply didn't have a free hand to love me anymore. My voice came out raspy, stripped of warmth. "Getting down on one knee with a diamond ring is 'just having fun'?" My mother stepped right in front of Lucas. "Your brother finally had a good day today. Do you really have to make such a disgusting scene?" I looked at my mother. "Mom, he’s wearing the ring my girlfriend bought." A flash of guilt crossed her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by cold impatience. "You and Sienna have been thousands of miles apart for four years. Whatever you two had dried up a long time ago. Lucas has been by her side through everything. They take care of each other—what’s so wrong with that?" I stood there, completely numb. They hadn't been tricked. They hadn't been kept in the dark. They had simply given their full blessing long ago. Marcus walked out from the dining room, his gaze darting away from mine. "Nate, drop it. Don't make this harder than it needs to be." My eyes burned red as I looked at him. "When you posted that video, why weren't you worried about how hard it would be for me?" Marcus turned pale, his lips pressing into a thin line. "I just... I just felt like they’ve been through a lot to get here." A dry laugh nearly escaped my chest. I had worked eighty-hour weeks abroad, hoarded my vacation days, and pulled strings to secure a transfer just so I could come home and marry her. Meanwhile, they were holding hands, building LEGO sets, and planning proposals at home. And somehow, they were the ones who had been through a lot. Sienna stood up and reached out to grab my arm. "Let's go outside and talk." I took a step back, dodging her reach. "We talk right here." Her expression darkened. "Nathan, don't humiliate everyone in front of the whole family." I turned my gaze to my parents. "So for the past four years, every time I said I wanted to come home, you told me my career was more important because you were terrified I'd come back and get in the way?" My father picked up his drink again, his voice icy. "You shouldn't have come back in the first place. Your brother isn't like you. He doesn't have your confidence. He has no sense of security." It was always that same sentence. Lucas had no security, so I wasn't allowed to cry. Lucas had poor health, so I wasn't allowed to compete. Lucas wanted something, so I had to surrender it. I gripped the handle of my suitcase so hard my knuckles turned stark white. Lucas suddenly tugged gently at Sienna's sleeve. "Sienna... my chest feels really tight." Sienna's face panicked instantly. She bent down and scooped him into her arms without a second thought. My mother rushed over in a flurry. "Quick, get him upstairs to rest!" They brushed past me in the hallway. Lucas was cradled against Sienna's chest, tears clinging to his long eyelashes. But in that brief second when no one else was looking, he glanced over Sienna's shoulder and gave me a faint, triumphant curve of his lips. In that single instant, I understood everything. He wasn't an innocent, fragile victim. He was simply masterfully aware that a single tear would instantly bring the entire family to his side. When I walked into my old bedroom, I froze on the threshold. The space was suffocatingly transformed—draped in red silk ribbons, white tulle, and bridal decorations. The academic awards I had pinned to the wall during high school had been ripped down. The glass trophies from my corporate achievements were shoved haphazardly into a cardboard box in the corner. On the nightstand sat a framed photograph of Sienna and Lucas. They were dressed in high school uniforms, standing beneath the giant ginkgo tree in our old schoolyard. On the back of the frame, a line of handwritten script read: The unspoken love from years ago finally found its way home. I stared at those words, an unbearable pressure crushing my lungs. Under that very ginkgo tree, Sienna had taken my hand for the first time seven years ago. She had looked into my eyes and said, "Nathan, I'll always wait for you." I had held onto that promise for seven years. It turned out her idea of "waiting" meant waiting for my younger brother to grow up. Footsteps sounded from the walk-in closet. Lucas emerged carrying another heavy cardboard box. When he saw me, he stopped, shrinking back timidly. "Nate... I was just trying to help you pack your things." Inside the box lay my entire youth: my college graduation photo, my professional awards, postcards Sienna had mailed me from her business trips. And right at the top was the leather-bound couple's journal Sienna and I had kept together. I reached out to take it, but Lucas reflexively pulled the box away. "Nate... leaving these things in our bridal suite isn't really appropriate." My blood ran cold, my hands trembling uncontrollably. "Who gave you permission to convert my room into a bridal suite?" Lucas bit his lower lip, tears welling up and spilling over his cheeks. "Mom and Dad said... they said you'd be living overseas permanently from now on. Leaving the room empty was just a waste of space." My mother's sharp voice cut in from the doorway. "I told him to change it." She stepped into the room, her eyes completely devoid of guilt. "Nathan, how old are you now? You're still throw a tantrum over a bedroom with your younger brother?" I looked at her, suddenly feeling as if I were looking at a complete stranger. "Mom. This is my room." Her face dropped. "This entire house belongs to your father and me. Which room in it has your name on it?" I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. All those years I spent living frugally abroad, wiring money back every month to help them clear the mortgage—in their eyes, none of it gave me a place to call home. Sienna, hearing the noise, hurried upstairs. Lucas immediately retreated behind her with red, tear-filled eyes. "Sienna... did I make Nate angry again?" Sienna took the cardboard box from his hands, her tone turning icy as she looked at me. "Nathan, can you stop picking on him the second you get back?" She looked at my bloodshot eyes and rubbed her temples with a heavy sigh. "Lucas just wants a place where he feels he belongs." "What about me?" I whispered. Sienna went silent for a long moment. "You're different. You've always been strong." A hollow smile spread across my face, though tears slipped down my cheeks. Because I was strong, I deserved to be stripped of everything. Because I didn't cry or scream, my room, my girlfriend, and my parents could all be handed over to Lucas on a silver platter. I closed my eyes, taking a deep, ragged breath. "I need my passport and my legal documents." My father had walked up to the doorway. His expression darkened. "You're leaving again?" "Nathan, don't forget that Sienna pulled major strings with regional directors to set up that domestic energy project for you," my father barked. "If you walk out now, what happens to the multi-million-dollar partnership between Hayes Group and Miller Global?" The final piece of the puzzle clicked into place. They weren't afraid I'd be hurt. They were afraid I wouldn't stay long enough to sign the contract, leaving their stolen deal dead in the water. Sienna’s eyes flickered with a brief flash of evasiveness. "Don't leave yet, Nate. At least wait until Lucas's wedding is over." I let out a bitter laugh. "Stay for what? To give my blessing as the supportive big brother, or to sit there as the pathetic ex who takes the fall for your betrayal?" Marcus, who had followed them upstairs, spoke from the hallway. "Nate, stop saying such bitter things. You two were apart for four years. It's completely natural for feelings to fade." I whipped my head toward him. "Then why didn't you tell me?" Marcus lowered his head, avoiding my gaze. "Lucas begged me not to. He said... he said if you found out, you wouldn't be able to handle it." My voice dropped to a whisper, cold and brittle. "So all of you decided it was better to keep me playing the fool?" Silence descended upon the hallway. Nobody said a word. Downstairs, the front doorbell chimed. A delivery driver from a luxury bridal boutique called out cheerfully from the foyer: "Hello? Is the groom, Mr. Lucas Miller, available? The designer cufflinks and silk ties for tomorrow's tuxedo fitting have arrived!" Lucas’s face drained of color. Sienna stepped sideways to block my line of sight, but it was too late. I had already caught a glimpse of the gold-embossed date on the sample box: the seventeenth of next month. That was the exact date Sienna and I had chosen years ago to register our marriage. I wiped the moisture from my face, pulled my suitcase behind me, and walked out of the house without looking back. I checked into a hotel downtown and booked a one-way ticket to Toronto for the following afternoon. Half an hour later, Sienna tracked me down to my room, holding a bakery box containing the chestnut cake I used to love. "Nathan, we need to talk." I didn't take the box. "Talk about when you broke up with me, or when you fell in love with my brother?" Her throat worked as she swallowed hard, her eyes darting away from mine. "Lucas has been dependent on me since he was a kid. He suffers from severe anxiety attacks—he can't handle being away from familiar people. Everything... everything we did was just to keep him calm." I almost laughed at the absurdity of it. "And your wedding? Is that just to keep him calm, too?" Sienna’s composure faltered slightly. "The wedding can be canceled." Even she sounded entirely unconvincing saying it. Her phone began to vibrate on the counter. It was Lucas. She glanced at the screen and declined the call. A second later, my mother’s number lit up her display. Sienna picked it up, and my mother’s frantic, weeping voice burst through the speaker: "Sienna! You have to come back right now! Lucas locked himself in the bathroom—he's crying, saying Nate hates him and that you don't want him anymore!" Sienna hung up the phone and looked up at me. In that single look, I already had my answer. She reached out her hand, attempting to touch my cheek. "Nathan, wait for me to get his panic attack under control. I promise I’ll give you a proper explanation." I took a step backward, letting her hand fall into empty air. "Sienna, I'm flying out tomorrow. I accepted the transfer back to global HQ." Sienna’s voice dropped, laced with sudden edge. "Haven't you thrown enough of a tantrum? You're going to throw away six months of transfer negotiations just to throw a fit?" I looked at her with complete tranquility. "It's not a fit. I'm not throwing away my transfer. I'm throwing away you." A dark chill settled in her eyes. "Nathan, don't back yourself into a corner." "Your father's company is counting on my venture capital to survive," she continued, her voice hardening. "Your mother's private care facility was arranged through my personal contacts. Do you really want to burn those bridges?" My heart plummeted into a cold abyss. "You're using them to threaten me?" Realizing she had gone too far, her tone softened slightly. "I'm just reminding you that real life isn't something you can just walk away from whenever you feel like it." She pulled a black card from her coat pocket and set it on the entryway table. "There's seven hundred thousand dollars in this account. Consider it my compensation to you. I'll handle Lucas's situation gradually. Just stay here for now—at least don't leave before the wedding." I stared down at the black card. Four years ago, when she saw me off at the airport, she hadn't even been willing to buy a four-dollar airport coffee. She had squeezed my hand and told me that starting a business was tough, that we needed to save every penny to build our future home. I felt so much pain for her struggles that every month when my paycheck hit, I wired money to my parents first, and then transferred a chunk to her. She always said I didn't need to, but she accepted every single transfer. It turned out she was never short on money. She was simply unwilling to spend it on me. I slid the card back across the table. "Your money makes me sick." Sienna’s face turned icy. "Nathan, don't push me." I opened the hotel room door wide. "Get out." She stood her ground. It wasn't until I picked up the room phone to dial hotel security that she finally turned and walked away. The moment the door clicked shut, my strength gave out, and I slid down against the wall onto the carpet. My phone vibrated continuously in my hand. Marcus's video on his alt account had gone viral. In the comment section, people had doxed my employer and leaked my identity, spinning a narrative that I was a bitter, aging ex-fiancé who had returned home to force a marriage. Someone had posted photos of Sienna and me from our college days, captioning it: The older brother used his "childhood sweetheart" title to trap her for seven years, almost suffocating true love to death. I clicked into the re-shares and saw dozens of familiar avatars: high school classmates, college roommates, even my mother’s bridge partners. Nate was always so hyper-competitive as a kid. He really wasn't very likable. Lucas is so much sweeter and gentler. No wonder the family prefers him. You can't force love. The older brother should have some dignity and let go. I stared at those words until my eyes burned so badly I couldn't see clearly. At one in the morning, an email from corporate HR popped up: Mr. Miller, your domestic transfer process has been paused. If you wish to reinstate your assignment to Global HQ, please confirm before 12:00 PM tomorrow. I typed a concise reply: Confirmed. A second after the email sent, a text message from Sienna flashed across my screen: Come home for dinner tomorrow. We need to clear things up online. Tell the public that you and I were only ever casual friends. I stared at those two lines for a long time, and then, a breathless laugh escaped my lips. Seven years of devotion, and in the end, I was reduced to a "casual friend" in her narrative. The next morning, I returned to my parents' house to retrieve my passport and official identification. My documents were kept in the study safe. The combination had always been my parents' wedding anniversary. I punched in the digits. Incorrect. I tried again. Incorrect. On the third attempt, the red light flashed. The code had been changed. From downstairs came the sound of Lucas laughing during his tuxedo fitting. When I pushed open the living room doors, Lucas was standing in front of a floor-to-ceiling mirror. Tailored white fabric trailed across the rug, and Sienna was kneeling on one knee, smoothing the hem of his trousers. My mother stood beside them, her eyes shining with tears. "Our Lucas looks so handsome." My father added a rare, warm smile. "Like a young prince." I stood in the doorway, the blood in my veins turning to ice. Lucas caught sight of me. A flicker of smug satisfaction crossed his features before he instantly rearranged his expression into one of innocent vulnerability. "Nate! You're back! Do you want to help me pick out a tie?" I ignored him entirely, turning my eyes to my father. "Where is my passport?" My father set his tea cup down with a heavy thud. "You're still talking about leaving?" My mother panicked immediately. "Your father's company has its venture capital signing next week! Sienna arranged everything! If you leave now, what will people say about our family?" I smiled faintly. They didn't care about losing me; they were just terrified of losing my usefulness. Sienna stood up, dusting off her hands. "Nathan, don't throw a scene today." I locked eyes with her. "Give me my documents." She remained silent for a few seconds. "After the wedding, I'll drive you to the airport myself." A dull, agonizing ache sawed through my chest. "What legal right do you have to withhold my documents?" Lucas suddenly stepped forward, his hand reaching out to gently grasp my wrist. "Nate, I'm begging you, please don't go... If you leave, Mom and Dad will be heartbroken, and Sienna will be miserable." On his wrist, he was wearing a thin red silk braided cord. My breath hitched. That was the guardian bracelet my grandmother had given me on her deathbed. When I was a child suffering from a life-threatening fever, my grandmother had knelt on the stone steps of a temple for hours to pray for my recovery. I grabbed his wrist, my voice shaking with sudden fury. "Who gave you permission to wear this?" Lucas shrank back in exaggerated terror. "Mom... Mom gave it to me!" My mother rushed forward, shoving my arm away. "It's just a cheap piece of string! If your brother likes it, let him wear it!" A sudden darkness blurred my vision. "Grandma wove that for me." My mother scowled with deep irritation. "He is your biological brother! What your grandmother left belongs to him just as much as it belongs to you!" In that moment, the absolute last thread of familial affection in my heart shattered into dust. I reached out, determined to pull the red cord off his wrist. Lucas suddenly let out a piercing scream and threw himself backward toward the top of the grand staircase. Sienna lunged forward, her face distorted as she shoved me with full force. "Nathan! What the hell are you doing?!" My foot caught on thin air. My back slammed violently into the heavy glass balustrade of the spiral staircase. The sound of shattering glass burst in my ears like a gunshot. The next second, I tumbled headfirst down the stairs. Jagged glass shards sliced deep into my palms. A blinding explosion of pain ripped through my ribcage as if bones were snapping in half. I hit the marble floor at the bottom, the agony so overwhelming I couldn't draw a breath to scream. Warm blood trickled down from my temple, blurring half my vision in crimson. Above, my mother didn't even look down. She threw herself toward Lucas, shrieking, "Lucas! Oh my god, Lucas! Did you hurt yourself?!" Sienna scooped Lucas into her arms, her voice trembling with terror. "Don't be scared, sweetheart! I'm right here!" I used every ounce of remaining strength to tilt my head upward. Lucas was nestled deep in Sienna's embrace, tears brimming in his eyes, but his mouth was curved into a cruel, triumphant smile. The red cord on his wrist caught the light of the chandelier, mocking me. I tried to push myself up, but my right hand pressed straight into a pool of shattered glass. Fresh agony tore through me, and tears finally spilled over my bloody cheeks. Sienna glanced down over the railing, her face suddenly draining of all color. "Nathan..." She paused, making a half-step as if to turn back. But Lucas instantly began to convolve violently in her arms, gasping for breath and sobbing, "Sienna... my chest... I can't breathe..." My mother’s voice rose to a hysterical pitch. "Sienna, don't waste time! His asthma can't wait!" My father’s cold, decisive tone followed immediately: "Nathan just took a minor tumble! Get Lucas to the hospital first!" I watched as Sienna sprinted out the front door, cradling Lucas in her arms. The heavy oak doors slammed shut, letting in a draft of freezing wind. I lay in a pool of my own blood and broken glass. Suddenly, my mind flashed back to four years ago, at the airport departure gate, when Sienna had hugged me tightly and whispered: "Nathan, when you come home, I promise I'll give you a family." She had kept her promise. She had built a family. There was just no place for me in it. The bridal boutique staff, returning to pick up their sample boxes, found me unconscious on the marble floor and frantically dialed 911. In the trauma bay, the ER nurse cut open my blood-soaked jacket and gasped. "Multiple rib fractures, deep laceration to the right palm with tendon severances! Prep OR Three immediately!" A second before the surgical lights blindingly illuminated the room, I pulled the couple's ring—the one I had worn for seven years—off my left hand. Thinking I was afraid of losing it, the surgical nurse gently reassured me, "Don't worry, hon. Your family will be here soon." I let out a weak, broken smile, a tear slipping down into my hair. "I don't have a family," I whispered. "They're all dead."
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