Elia POV:

My laughter echoed in the quiet space, brittle and cold. "Saints," I repeated, the word a bitter taste in my mouth. They were indeed viewed as the epitome of the charitable, devoted couple, wrapped in a narrative of shared trauma and unwavering love. Christian, the steadfast husband; Gidget, the resilient survivor. And me? I was the forgotten villain, the unstable sister who had caused her so much pain.

He still believed her. He still believed her lies, her carefully constructed facade of victimhood. The thought was a familiar knot in my stomach, one I had long learned to live with.

I had loved him once, with a fierce, unwavering devotion that defied logic. Christian. My first love, my only love. I had chosen him, over everyone, over everything.

Then I found him. In our bed. Tangled with her. Gidget. My sister, my tormentor, her body a pale, naked blur against his. The air was thick with the stench of their betrayal, the cloying sweetness of her perfume.

I remembered the nausea, the sudden, violent lurch of my stomach. My world tilted on its axis, every star in my carefully constructed universe winking out.

Christian had been my neighbor first, a constant shadow in my tumultuous childhood. He' d seen Gidget' s cruelty, my stepmother' s indifference. He' d seen me, a small, scared girl, banished from the house after one of Gidget' s dramatic outbursts. He' d found me huddled in the cold, a tiny, shivering ball of misery.

He' d wrapped his worn denim jacket around me, his hands warm on my freezing skin. "Don't cry, Elia," he'd whispered, his voice a balm to my aching heart. "I'll always protect you."

I remembered the time Gidget had slammed a door on my ear, a childish fit of pique turning violent. Christian, barely older than me, had been there in an instant, cradling me, his eyes blazing with protective fury. "I'll always be here," he'd promised, his words a sacred vow. "I'll always be the first one to say 'Happy New Year' to you, the first one to hold you."

He knew. He knew the depth of my hatred for Gidget, the scars she had left, both visible and invisible. He knew.

My hand had flown out, instinct overriding reason. A sharp crack echoed in the room as my palm connected with Gidget' s cheek. "Why, Gidget?" I' d screamed, my voice raw with anguish. "Why do you always have to destroy everything?"

My hand was poised for a third strike, but Christian had caught it, his grip like iron. "Elia, stop!" he'd yelled, his voice strained. He pulled me into a fierce embrace, his body trembling. "She drugged me, Elia! I swear, I thought it was you!"

Gidget, meanwhile, had crumpled to the floor, wrapping her arms around herself, her body wracked with theatrical sobs. "Elia, how could you?" she'd wailed, her voice thick with false tears. "You always misunderstand me! I would never..."

I had seen that look a hundred times. The innocent, wounded doe, framed by tears and trembling lips. My head spun, the room blurring around me.

Then everything went black. I collapsed, the weight of the betrayal too much to bear.

Elia POV:

I woke to the sterile scent of a hospital room, the soft glow of the monitor a stark contrast to the darkness that had consumed me. Christian sat beside my bed, his face haggard, his eyes bloodshot. He pleaded, he begged, he provided carefully curated evidence of Gidget's alleged drugging, of his own innocence. He swore he hadn't touched her, that it was a terrible accident, a misunderstanding. He pleaded with me to believe him, to forgive him.

I wanted to. Desperately. I wanted to believe the man I loved, the man who had always been my protector. I tried to convince myself it was a cruel trick of fate, an unfortunate mistake. I yearned to put it behind us, to salvage the shattered remnants of our life together.

Just as our fragile peace began to mend, a notification pinged on my phone. Gidget. Always Gidget. She had posted a picture. A candid shot of her, laughing, nestled against a man whose face was turned away. But I recognized the familiar curve of his jaw, the dark hair, and more importantly, the discreet silver ring on his outstretched hand. The ring I had given Christian, a cherished anniversary gift.

My blood roared in my ears. The blurry memory of Christian's rushed, almost dismissive text message about an urgent business trip, just days before, came flooding back. He hadn't been on a business trip. He had been with her. With Gidget.

The realization hit me like a physical blow. He hadn't stopped seeing her. He had lied. Again. My vision tunneled.

I stumbled out of the apartment, a frantic urgency propelling me forward. I had to see, had to know. The night was a blur of taxi rides and flashing city lights. It was almost midnight when I arrived, the sky above a symphony of bursting fireworks, a cruel, mocking celebration of something I couldn't comprehend.

And then I saw them. Christian and Gidget. Standing on a balcony, wrapped in each other's arms, silhouetted against the exploding colors. He held her close, his head bent to hers.

"Is it a boy or a girl, darling?" Gidget' s voice, clear and bright, drifted across the distance. "Has our baby already celebrated its first New Year with us?"

The words were a physical assault. Our baby. My ears roared, a deafening white noise that drowned out everything. I couldn't process it. My body moved before my mind, a primal scream tearing from my throat.

I lunged forward, my hand connecting with Christian' s face, a sharp, stinging slap. Then I grabbed Gidget's hair, my fingers tangling in the silken strands. "You lied!" I shrieked, my voice cracking. "You swore it was an accident! You swore you were innocent!"

Christian reacted instantly, pulling Gidget protectively into his arms, shielding her from me. His eyes, usually so gentle, were blazing with a cold fury I had never seen directed at me. He grabbed my wrist, his fingers digging into my flesh, a searing pain blooming up my arm.

"What is wrong with you, Elia?" he snarled, his voice a low growl. "Are you insane? She's pregnant!"

The world tilted again. Pregnant. My sister. With his child. Tears streamed down my face, hot and furious. "Pregnant?" I choked out, my voice barely a whisper. "With your child? Who am I, Christian? Who am I to you?"

Elia POV:

Christian released my wrist, as if waking from a trance, but his arm remained protectively around Gidget. Her head was still buried in his shoulder, her body trembling with fabricated sobs. He looked at me, his eyes pleading, yet unwavering in his defense of her.

"Elia, please, calm down," he said, his voice strained. "It was... an accident. That night, when she was drugged. It happened." He looked away for a moment, then back at me, his gaze heavy with what I now recognize as guilt. "She's pregnant with my child."

He rushed on, as if trying to outrun the truth. "The doctors said she has a very rare condition. If she doesn't carry this baby to term, she might never be able to conceive again. She was scared, Elia. She came to me because she had nowhere else to go. I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to worry, to overthink things."

Gidget lifted her head, her face tear-streaked, but her eyes, I noticed, were dry. She began her practiced performance. "My parents... they want me to get rid of it," she whimpered, her voice cracking. "Elia, please, just let me stay here. Just until the baby is born. I won't bother you, I promise. I just want my baby."

My head throbbed, a dull, insistent ache. A sharp, almost violent rage ignited within me. "You're lying, Gidget!" I snapped, my voice shaking. "You told me you couldn't get pregnant! You said that years ago after that car accident! You said your doctor told you it was impossible!"

"Go to a hospital, Gidget! Get a second opinion!" I challenged, my voice rising. "Let's see if your 'rare condition' is just another one of your convenient lies!"

Gidget' s eyes welled up again, perfectly timed. "Elia, why are you always so extreme? Why do you always think I'm trying to ruin your life? I just want a child!"

Christian's face, which had been a canvas of conflicted emotions, hardened. His jaw clenched, his eyes turning cold. "You shouldn't talk to her like that, Elia." His voice was low, dangerous. "She's already been through so much. I... I owe her. I'm sorry for what I did to her."

He looked at me with an expression I had never seen before-disappointment, disapproval. "You're being unreasonable, Elia. You're being cold-hearted."

His words hit me like a physical blow. The Christian from my past, the one who had always protected me, who had always seen through Gidget's lies, fractured and reformed into this stranger. His youthful face, once filled with such warmth and tenderness, now stared at me with an icy indifference that chilled me to the bone.