Goodbye, My Brother, My Love

Everyone knew Liam lived by two unbreakable rules.

First, his passenger seat was mine.

Second,he recoiled from any woman who dared touch him. A quirk, I'd thought. A strange, endearing flaw that didn't apply to me.

For twenty years, the rules held. I believed in our private language of love.

But today, I saw his car outside a boutique. My breath hitched.

Maeve was in my seat. She leaned over, kissed him. He didn't move away.

I froze, a chill seeping into my bones.

His aversion wasn't a condition. It was a choice.

Even more ridiculous, the woman who'd broken both his rules was the one I'd personally hired for his company.

Aria's POV

I stood frozen outside the boutique, a dull ache settling in my chest.

I opened my email and typed my reply to Professor Ford: Yes. I accept.?

Florence it would be. I'd leave the day after graduation.

The screen went dark. I lifted my gaze to the shop window.

There she was. Maeve, my future sister-in-law, glowing in a white mermaid gown, a circle of admirers around her.

And beside her, kneeling to adjust the hem of her dress with a look of pure devotion, was Liam.

My brother, by adoption.

And the man I had loved for nearly twenty years.

Shards of memory cut through me, sharp and unbidden.

That year, my first in college, Mrs. Hayes took my hand. She watched Liam come down the stairs, a playful glint in her eye.

"You two are so close," she teased. "People might get ideas! Liam, doesn't it worry you, what they might think?"

Liam crossed the room. His hand came to rest on my head, ruffling my hair in the familiar way he'd done for years. "Let them think what they want," he said. "I don't care."

Those words had been the sole belief sustaining my nearly two-decade-long secret crush. I naively thought his indifference was because he'd already planned me into his future.

Now, they felt like a slap in the face.

The cruelest irony? I'd personally picked Maeve for this job.

Liam's assistant had just resigned, and he'd pushed a few resumes my way. "Help me pick an assistant. Find someone you like, so they don't bother you."

I was surprised and secretly thrilled. Among several impressive resumes, I immediately chose Maeve. She seemed the most gentle and harmless.

I thought it was a special privilege, proof he cared about my feelings.

Now I see I was just deluding myself.

"Aria? Is that really you!"

Maeve spotted me from inside the store, her face instantly beaming with surprise. She hurried over, gathering her gown, and spoke warmly through the glass door. "Come in, Aria! Tell me what you think of this dress. Liam says it's gorgeous, but I trust your taste more than anyone's. You have the best eye!"

Everyone in the store turned to stare at me.

I felt like I was suffocating.

I managed a stiff smile, shaking my head. "No thanks, Maeve. I'm actually busy. You two take your time."

Maeve's smile froze. Her eyes welled up, her lower lip trembling as her voice cracked. "Aria, are you still mad at me? Liam and I are truly in love, and we're getting engaged soon. I just want your blessing."

Her pitiable act successfully sparked whispers from the onlookers.

I was the unreasonable sister, ruining the bride's special moment.

I stood there, nailed to the spot, utterly lost.

Just then, Liam walked over, his tall figure casting a shadow over the glaring lights.

Maeve instantly reverted to her startled fawn act, cowering behind Liam, whimpering, "Liam, I didn't mean to. I just wanted Aria to help me pick. She still seems upset about... what happened last time."

Liam's gaze landed on me, icy and unfamiliar, devoid of any warmth.

"Aria," he began, his voice cold as ice, "How much longer are you going to keep this up?"

My heart plummeted.

Keep what up?

Liam seemed to fear he hadn't hurt me enough, so he continued, "When you won that photography award and hugged me-I know you were excited. But Maeve saw it, and it gave her the wrong idea."

He paused.

"That was just a sister's dependence and admiration for her brother, nothing else. Aria, you're not a child anymore. You need to learn to keep an appropriate distance from your brother."

My mind exploded.

Not long ago, when no one was around, he would hold me from behind, his chin resting on my head, complaining in an intimate whisper that I smelled of another man's cologne.

In a flash, he'd become the brother warning me to keep my distance.

Humiliation burned my cheeks, and my vision swam.

I bit down hard on my lip. The metallic taste of blood forced the tears back.

I couldn't cry here. I wouldn't show weakness in front of them.

I lowered my gaze, my voice barely audible. "I'm sorry. I was being childish. I'll make sure to keep my distance from now on."

I couldn't stand another second. Muttering an excuse about feeling dizzy, I spun around and fled.

Tears fell as I turned.

I wandered the streets like a ghost for what felt like an eternity, until the evening wind stung my cheeks.

Only then did I pull out my phone, my hands trembling.

The screen's light stung my eyes.

I opened the app and booked a flight to Florence for ten days from now.

Aria's POV

Late that night, I returned to the Hayes estate.

I tiptoed inside, desperate to avoid everyone.

The living room was dim, lit only by a single floor lamp.

Just as I reached the stairs, a voice came from the sofa.

"You're back?"

My body instantly froze.

Maeve rose from the sofa, wearing a silk robe. The neckline was loose, revealing a suggestive hickey on her neck.

She strolled closer, her finger tracing the mark.

"Liam was... passionate," she said, her eyes boring into mine. "Men can never resist physical attraction. Don't you agree, little girl?"

My stomach churned.

I gave her a frosty glare. "Trashy."

I turned, intending to go upstairs.

"Stop!" Maeve's voice sharpened. She rushed forward, grabbing my arm. "What's your problem? Jealous?"

Just then, the door to the upstairs study opened.

Liam appeared at the top of the stairs.

Maeve saw him. Her grip on my hand tightened sharply, and a cold, malevolent smile flashed across her face, gone in a blink.

The next second, her expression contorted into pure terror.

"Ah-"

A sharp cry tore from her throat.

Her body lurched backward, tumbling down the stairs.

"Maeve!"

Liam's face went ashen. He was at her side in an instant, gathering her limp form into his arms.

"Liam," Maeve whispered, her face pale, tears streaming down. She leaned weakly into his embrace. "Don't blame Aria. She didn't mean to."

Liam's head snapped up. His eyes, blazing with fury, pierced me like daggers.

"Even if you're upset, you shouldn't have pushed her!"

There wasn't a hint of doubt in his voice, only accusation.

I opened my mouth, wanting to say I hadn't.

But seeing his eyes, already convicting me, every word caught in my throat.

He wouldn't believe me.

"I didn't," I finally choked out, my voice raw.

Liam scoffed, standing up with Maeve in his arms. He couldn't even spare me a glance.

As he turned, Maeve, cradled in his arms, subtly looked back.

She looked at me, frozen in place, and mouthed silently:

You lose.

...

The next day, I went to the magazine office to hand in my resignation.

My editor-in-chief looked from me to the signature on my resignation letter. A slow, knowing smile touched her lips. "Big news to announce? Becoming a full-time housewife? Makes sense. Liam always protected you so well. He'd never want you to work too hard."

My heart stung, but I couldn't form an expression.

I silently returned to my desk to pack my things. The receptionist's assistant ran over, patting my shoulder excitedly.

"Aria! Look downstairs! Your fianc is here to pick you up again! Oh my god, he's so handsome, you're so lucky!"

I paused, following her gaze.

Downstairs, leaning against his familiar sports car, was Liam. Today, he wore a perfectly tailored suit, his tall figure attracting the attention of every passerby.

Aria's POV

I clutched the cardboard box, walking out of the magazine building.

The afternoon sun was a bit harsh, and I instinctively squinted.

My colleagues, as if on cue, didn't follow me out. Instead, they waved excitedly from behind the floor-to-ceiling windows, grinning like they were watching a rom-com unfold.

In their eyes, this was a romantic gesture.

I stopped in front of the car.

Liam stubbed out the cigarette between his fingers, then looked up at me, his expression cold.

"Liam," I said, my voice flat.

He frowned, correcting me, "Respect."

I scoffed internally but complied. "Right. I'll remember that."

"I apologize for last night," he finally said, though his tone held no hint of remorse. "I was too impulsive."

I laughed.

Sure enough, his next sentence exposed his "apology" as a mere prelude to a lecture.

"But pushing Maeve down the stairs was still wrong," he said, looking down at me. "Do you honestly not think you did anything wrong?"

His twisted version of events made me laugh, a bitter, hollow sound.

I looked up, meeting his gaze. "Twenty years," I said, my voice sharp with anger. "You know me. Do you honestly believe I'd push a pregnant woman down a flight of stairs?"

"She wasn't pregnant," he said, his tone flat and final. "Just an upset stomach."

My heart plummeted.

He either didn't know he'd been fooled, or he simply didn't care.

Suddenly, everything felt utterly meaningless.

"You can go," I said, my voice devoid of emotion as I looked away. "I've resigned. I won't be coming back here, so your fiance doesn't need to waste her energy on me either."

Just then, a few bolder colleagues couldn't resist. They came closer, smiling.

"Oh, Aria, you two aren't fighting, are you?"

"You have to appreciate a man like Liam! He picks you up every single day. Who does that anymore!"

"Come on, every couple has spats. Don't let a silly argument ruin a good thing. Just kiss and make up!"

I forced a smile, uglier than a grimace.

Liam offered no explanation. Instead, he reached out, straightening a strand of my wind-blown hair with an unnervingly natural gesture. To my colleagues, it was intimate; to me, a stark warning.

I abruptly stepped back, avoiding his hand.

I turned to my colleagues. "We're not like that. You've misunderstood."

My colleagues' smiles froze.

Clutching the box, I turned and walked away, not looking at Liam's expression.

I'd rented an apartment these past few days and hadn't returned to the Hayes estate.

Back at the apartment, I turned off my phone, trying to numb myself with work.

I only switched it back on late that night.

The screen lit up, and messages flooded in.

Not a single one from Liam.

It was a stark contrast to the Liam who would scour the city if he couldn't reach me for even an hour.

I idly opened my social media feed.

The first post was from Maeve, thirty minutes ago: a flawless selfie. Around her neck glittered the sapphire necklace, the same one she'd snapped me this very afternoon and retracted.

The caption read: "Love the birthday gift from my love! Obsessed! [heart emoji]"

The photo's background was a private room in an upscale restaurant, a birthday cake on the table.

My gaze fixed on the necklace.

It was Maeve's birthday today?

So, he'd only been at the magazine building to check up on me, and give me a lecture, just passing by. And here I'd thought he'd come specially for me.

My phone rang abruptly. It was Mrs. Hayes.

"Aria, sweetheart, why aren't you home yet? I told Liam to pick you up. Did he get you?" Mrs. Hayes's voice was as loving as ever.

"Mrs. Hayes, I've moved out. He doesn't need to pick me up."

"Moved out? What's going on? Did that rascal Liam upset you?"

"No," I cut her off, not wanting to hear another word about him. "Mrs. Hayes, I'm exhausted. I'm going to hang up now."

I hung up and collapsed onto my bed.

Tears silently streamed down, soaking my pillow.

I finally understood completely: neither his passenger seat, nor his gifts, nor his future belonged to me anymore.

Good.

This made leaving so much easier.

After a few days of tidying my apartment, I finally steeled myself to go back to the Hayes estate and retrieve my last few things.

I used my spare key to open the villa door.

The living room was empty.

I breathed a sigh of relief, about to go upstairs, but then I bumped into someone on the landing.

Maeve was coming out of my bedroom, carrying a suitcase.

Seeing me, Maeve showed no surprise, only a provocative smile.

Aria's POV

Maeve stood on the staircase, looking down at me with a condescending gaze.

The suitcase she was carrying was a gift from Mrs. Hayes when I graduated college. Now, it was filled with things that weren't mine, taken from my room.

"You're back?" Maeve's tone was light and casual. "I thought you'd never step foot in this house again."

My gaze went past her, landing on my half-open bedroom door. The room showed signs of being ransacked.

"What are you doing in my room?" My voice was cold as ice.

"Your room?" Maeve laughed, a loud, exaggerated sound, as if I'd told the funniest joke. "Aria, are you still half-asleep? This is Liam's home, and soon it will be mine. Your things should have been cleared out ages ago."

As she spoke, she deliberately slammed the suitcase onto the floor. It wasn't latched properly, and with a "snap," it burst open.

The contents spilled everywhere.

All my photography portfolios, my cherished camera, and lenses.

In the very center was a thick photo album.

Maeve bent down, picked up the album, and slowly, deliberately, flipped it open.

Inside were only photos of Liam.

From his awkward teenage years to the mature, composed man he was now.

Playing basketball, reading, in meetings, asleep.

All sorts of him filled the entire album.

These were all the moments I'd secretly captured over twenty years, all his time.

"Tsk, tsk," Maeve murmured, flipping through the pages with a feigned sigh. Her finger traced Liam's sweat-drenched profile from a basketball game. "This shot is really good. You clearly loved him so much. Too bad, only I get to see him sweat now."

She turned another page, a photo of Liam asleep on the sofa.

"And this one," she continued. "He told me he has insomnia, that he can only truly sleep when he feels completely safe. Guess he didn't feel safe with you watching him."

My nails dug deep into my palms, as I fought the urge to lunge at her and tear that smug face apart.

"Give them back," I grated out, my voice barely a whisper.

"Give them back?" Maeve closed the album, her smile innocent and cruel. "Of course. But Liam said keeping these things would only fuel your delusions. He thinks we should just toss them. For your own good."

With that, she hugged the album, walking step by step down the stairs, towards the fireplace.

My heart leaped into my throat.

"You wouldn't dare!" I shrieked.

Maeve looked back and smiled at me. "Watch me."

Before I could react, she swung her arm, and the album-the keeper of my entire youthful love-was tossed into the roaring fireplace.

Flames instantly leaped up, eagerly devouring those precious photographs.

I could almost see his young face in the photos, slowly disintegrating into ash within the flames.

"No!"

I lunged forward like a madwoman, desperate to rescue the album from the fire.

But it was too late.

"You psycho!" My eyes bloodshot, I spun around and lunged at Maeve.

I just wanted this woman to pay.

However, before my hands could even touch Maeve, a powerful grip seized me from behind.

Liam had returned, I didn't know when.

He clamped down on my wrist, his grip so fierce it felt like my bones would shatter.

"Let me go!" I struggled wildly.

"Enough! Aria, how long are you going to keep acting like a madwoman?!" Liam's furious roar exploded above me.

Maeve instantly reverted to her startled fawn act, cowering behind Liam, whimpering, "Liam, I didn't mean to. I just wanted to help you clear out some things that would upset her. I had no idea she'd react so violently. Does she want to hit me?"

"Did I tell you to touch her things?" Liam's voice, for the first time, held a note of reproach for Maeve.

Maeve froze, her tears falling in earnest. "I just...I didn't want this to be hard for you. The photos...they're bad for everyone."

Liam's expression darkened. He looked at me, his voice dropping to a dangerous low. "That doesn't justify putting your hands on her."

I stopped struggling, letting Liam hold me.

My heart had died with that album.

"Liam," I said, my voice unnervingly flat. "You told me to keep my distance. Fine. Then give me back what's mine. My room. My things. Don't touch any of it. Once it's gone, I'll be gone too. You'll never see me again."

Liam stared at my hollow eyes, a flicker of unease crossing his face.

His grip on my wrist loosened. "Aria, don't say things you don't mean."

"I mean every word."?took a step back, reclaiming the space between us. "As of today, I'm not your sister. We're former roommates. You and your fiance will stay out of my life."

Liam stood rigid, his face like stone.

I turned without another word, walked upstairs, and shut my door. The lock clicked into place with a final, deafening sound.