My best friend was getting married on Valentine’s Day and asked my boyfriend and me to be bridesmaid and groomsman.

Darian agreed on the spot, but when we got back, he looked troubled as he packed his luggage. “I have to go on a business trip, I really can’t attend the wedding. Help me turn it down.”

I told him to focus on his own matters first, but unexpectedly, I came across his adoptive sister’s Instagram.

[I am petty, I am willful, I won’t allow my brother to wear a wedding dress or suit with another woman, not even bridesmaid or groomsman outfits!]

That’s when I realized that their so-called sibling relationship had already crossed the line…

——

I sat on the bed holding my phone, stunned for a long time, until Darian called me from the doorway.

“Honey, have you seen my white short-sleeved shirt?”

I lifted my head blankly, meeting the face I had loved for eight years.

Numbly, I stood up, pulled a short-sleeved shirt from the wardrobe and handed it to him.

Darian’s expression suddenly changed. “This one won’t do.”

“Why not?”

This was our only matching couple’s T-shirt. A year ago, I had pestered him endlessly before he finally agreed to wear it.

When we ran into Selene while shopping, I greeted her, only to have her throw an entire cup of milk tea all over me.

And what did Darian do back then?

He left me standing there covered in stains, while he gently coaxed that red-eyed little girl for over half an hour.

Then he rushed into a store to buy a new T-shirt to change into.

We had a huge fight over it, but in the end, I still couldn’t let him go and accepted his apology.

“This one’s so old, it’s long past wearing.”

He took it and casually tossed it into the trash bin.

Somehow, I felt that our eight years of love, from campus days to wedding vows, had become just like that shirt—no longer so precious.

Seeing my unhappiness, Darian pulled me into his arms. “I can’t be with you on Valentine's Day, but I’ll be passing through Paris this time. Do you want a bag, or clothes…”

His tone was tender and one hand slowly slipped under my nightdress, guiding me toward the bed.

My mind was in turmoil. I shoved him away and said coldly, “Darian, let’s break up.”

Meeting my distant gaze, he pinched my earlobe nonchalantly. “Sulky girl, just because I can’t spend Valentine's Day with you, you want to break up? Then from now on I’ll make Valentine's Day a company holiday. I won’t go anywhere, I’ll spend it entirely with you, okay?”

Tears welled up in my eyes.

All these years, apart from his sister’s untouchable territory, he truly did grant my every wish.

When I said I liked roses, he flew in a whole plane of blue enchantresses from Kenya. When I said I liked water sports, even though he was afraid of water, he learned surfing and diving with me.

His love had always been vast and overwhelming, wrapping me up inside it, making everyone envious.

In that moment, a glimmer of hope stirred within me and I found myself wanting to ask him directly, “Darian, what’s really going on between you and your sister…?”

The phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID and immediately stood up.

I lay on the bed, my nightdress half-slipped to my chest, feeling as humiliated as the day I was splashed with milk tea.

After hanging up, Darian’s expression was cheerful as he dropped a kiss on my forehead. “Something came up at the company. I’ll come back tonight to spoil my princess.”

He left in a hurry, forgetting that his computer was still at home, its notification sound chiming nonstop.

The wallpaper was a photo of us together. The password was my birthday—everything still looked like he loved me.

I tapped into WhatsApp and it happened to open right to the chat with [Princess Selene].

[Darian, this time when we go to the Maldives, I’m going to wear one of those three-piece bikinis. I’ll definitely be able to attract lots of abs-handsome guys by then.]

[No.]

[Hmph, you’re not my boyfriend, I don’t want you telling me what to do.]

[I’m your brother. If you keep fooling around, I won’t take you abroad for Valentine’s Day.]

[Hehe, I know you’re just worried about me since I just broke up, but it’s also really wrong of you to wear groomsman and bridesmaid outfits with Ruby without my permission. Since you’re spending Valentine’s Day with me, I’ll wear it just for you.]

Darian stayed silent for a long time before finally replying:

[This is the last time. Ruby and I are getting married soon, from now on I’ll have to be with her.]

What I once thought was perfect love dissolved into bubbles, slipping from the corners of my eyes and falling onto my slightly rounded belly.

I put away the pregnancy test with its two red lines and called my best friend Azura.

“Come out, drink with me.”

The bar’s laser lights painted everyone’s faces in dazzling colors.

Dressed in a sexy red camisole, I squeezed into the writhing dance floor, swaying with different men.

Azura touched my forehead.

“Babe, what’s going on with you? Not keeping yourself for your Darian anymore?”

It suddenly hit me—Darian didn’t like places like this, so I hadn’t been here in a long time.

My throat tightened. I took a deep breath to keep the tears from falling.

“Azura, the one Darian loves isn’t me…”

A blast of music suddenly erupted and Azura excitedly pointed toward the stage.

“I knew it, you couldn’t hide it after dancing with that guy just now.”

Seeing that familiar figure, a sharp ache swelled in my chest.

Why was he here? Did he already know I had seen those chat records? Did he come to win me back?

The music stopped right then and my eyes met his across the room.

In his gaze flashed that familiar possessiveness—just like at our graduation party, when he accepted my confession.

My heart tightened sharply.

Darian set down the tea in his hand and walked toward me.

“Honey, you’re being naughty today…”

Before he could finish, his eyes swept past me, his brows furrowing tightly.

He strode straight to a girl in a white dress, drinking alone in frustration.

“Selene, come home with me.” Selene froze, her eyes reddening.

“Aren’t you about to get married? Didn’t you say you wouldn’t care about me anymore? Why are you pretending now?”

Darian’s knuckles whitened as he reached out to grab her.

“Who said I wouldn’t care about you? You’re my sister.”

But Selene shoved him away, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“I don’t want that! If this is the last time you’ll be with me, then I’d rather not go at all!”

A flicker of pain crossed Darian’s eyes, his lips moving slightly.

“Selene, I will have to get married someday and you will also—”

“I don’t want to hear it!” Selene screamed, covering her ears, a vicious gleam flashing in her eyes. “Would you only belong to me if she were dead?”

Before I could react, Selene swung an empty bottle straight at my head, her expression frenzied.

The shattering of glass exploded in my ears and warm liquid trickled down my forehead.

I staggered back two steps, only for a second bottle to smash against my head. “For stealing my brother, go to hell!”

***

When I woke up, I was lying in a hospital bed.

As I moved my hand, the IV needle tugged painfully; the nurse was changing the drip.

“Where’s the person who brought me here?”

I thought it was time for Darian and me to have a talk.

“You mean that girl? She stayed with you all night. She just left because she had something at the company today.”

I froze. So the one who brought me here wasn’t Darian after all.

My phone buzzed. I picked it up—Selene had updated her Tiktok again.

[It was just a little cut on my finger from the glass and my brother was worried sick.]

In the video, the man was half-squatting, carefully wrapping a band-aid around her finger.

Selene pouted coyly. “Darian, it hurts so much.”

The man froze, lowered his head with restraint and kissed that finger, his voice hoarse.

“Does it still hurt?”

It felt as if my own wound had been torn open again, doused with alcohol, the pain suffocating me.

I took a deep breath and dialed 110. “Hello, I want to report a crime.”

But what I ended up facing wasn’t the police—it was Darian, storming in with furious questions.

His eyes held a coldness I had never seen before.

“You called the police? Selene is just a childish girl—was this really necessary?”

Childish girl? My heart filled with disappointment.

“What kind of child would leave me needing more than thirty stitches?”

After my injury, Darian showed no concern for me, only blaming me for calling the police on his sister.

“Ruby, this is a family matter. There was no need to call the police. I’ve already punished her—confined her to the house for a day.”

I froze, then couldn’t help but laugh out loud, laughing until the wound ached.

“Darian, you call that punishment? Even if she beat me to death, would you still take her side like this?”

His gaze darkened.

“With me protecting you, how could I ever let you…”

His tone softened as he reached up to wipe the tears from my face, slipping a document into my hand at the same time.

“The police case has already been withdrawn. Be good, just sign this and in a few days, I’ll have her apologize to you in person.”

Seeing the large characters “Letter of Forgiveness” on the page before me, my heart felt plunged into an icy pit in the middle of winter.

When I lifted my eyes again, there was only coldness in them.

“I’ll sign it, but you have to promise me one condition.”

Darian, holding the signed letter, stopped suddenly as he was about to walk out the door.

“Ruby, if you had a younger sister, you would understand me. You’re both equally important to me.”

I curved my lips in a faint smile. I didn’t have a younger sister—but I did have an older brother.

And I would never put him and my sister-in-law on opposite ends of a scale, forcing him to choose.

Thinking of that, I called my brother. “Willy, I don’t want to get married anymore. I want to go to Switzerland to see you.”

He immediately replied in a warm voice. “Alright, then don’t marry. I’ll book the ticket for you.”

The flight happened to be right after Azura’s wedding.

During those days in the hospital, Darian came diligently, appearing at the same time every day.

He brought light porridge, changed my dressings and when I woke up in pain during the night, he would silently hold my hand.

But inside, I felt no joy—only desolation.

Loving someone for eight years, yet letting go took just a single moment.

“Ruby, this is a cake Selene made to apologize to you.”

I glanced at it and my heart slowly sank. “Darian, did you forget? I’m allergic to mango.”

He clearly knew I had nearly lost my life once from just a spoonful of mango pudding. A flicker of something crossed his face, but still he insisted, holding the cake toward me. “The little girl worked hard to make it. How about you just eat a bite of the plain cake base?”

As he brought the spoon closer, I slapped it to the ground. “Was it not enough for you siblings to harm me once—you want a second time?”

His expression darkened at the sight of the cake on the floor. “How can you say that? Selene didn’t know—”

“She didn’t know, but what about you?”

Because of my sudden movement, the gauze on my head tore, blood seeping through.

Darian’s brows furrowed, his voice low. “I’ll get the doctor.”

But before he could step out of the ward, a phone call came through—a girl’s sobbing voice on the other end.