Every time I argue with Cyrus, it always ends with him saying, "You're the best." He knows I’ll tolerate him endlessly and forgive all his mistakes. But this time... this time, I really don’t want to just let it go.
"Cyrus, let’s break up."
I stared at him for what felt like an eternity before finally speaking those words.
The moment Cyrus hung up the phone, it hit me—I realized he no longer loved me. A relationship based on one-sided effort is doomed to fail.
When I said the words "break up," his eyes suddenly turned cold, his gaze sharp with something darker.
"I must have made you angry, I’m sorry, I really am," he said, his voice dripping with insincerity. He turned to Nina, who, incredibly, was wiping away a tear.
She leaned into him, her body pressing against his.
With practiced ease, Cyrus wrapped his arm around her, holding her close. "Amara, are you done?" he asked, his tone dismissive. "I’ve apologized. Why do you have to make this such a big deal?"
Then, with exaggerated tenderness, he wiped away the tear from Nina’s cheek. "It’s fine," he said, a touch of smugness in his voice. "Don’t pay attention to her. Don’t apologize to her."
He looked down at the woman in his arms, his voice soft, as though speaking to a child. "I’ve spoiled her. She doesn’t know her place."
As they turned to leave, Cyrus paused at the door and glanced back at me, his expression suddenly neutral, as if he had just remembered something.
"I’ll take you to try on the wedding dress next week. Don’t be late."
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. "Don’t forget," he added, his tone flat. "This is what you promised my brother. And this is what you promised me."
If he hadn’t said it, I might have forgotten. Four years ago, before Simon passed away, he’d asked me, in a barely audible voice, to take care of Cyrus. I agreed.
At Simon’s funeral, Cyrus confessed that this was his one wish, and I had promised.
I had kept my promise to take care of him.
But I was really tired.
I showed up at the wedding dress shop, just as I had promised.
Cyrus had always been late in the past, but today, he was already there, sitting in the shop, waiting for me.
The moment our eyes met, he smiled brightly, as if everything that had happened just days ago had never occurred.
"I knew you’d come back, you're the best."
I had heard those words so many times before, but today, they made me feel sick.
Cyrus eagerly pulled me into the store, excitedly showing me the wedding dress he had already picked out.
"This one’s perfect. It’ll highlight your figure beautifully."
He was like an overenthusiastic puppy, but I couldn’t bring myself to smile in this seemingly warm moment.
"The fiancé has great taste," the clerk said, admiring Cyrus' choice.
She took the dress and began guiding me toward the fitting room, but I waved my hand, stopping her.
"I can't get married this time."
"Cyrus, let’s let each other go, okay?"
I had been thinking about our relationship for a while now. Maybe, from the very beginning, it had never been based on love.
At least not for me.
This was the second time I was breaking up with Cyrus, but this time, there was no guilt, no hesitation. I looked at him straight in the eyes.
Cyrus froze, caught off guard.
For the sake of the clerk’s presence, he didn’t rush up to grab me or shout at me. But his words still stung.
"But my brother is dead, can’t you just forget him?"
The clerk, who had been quietly observing, now widened her eyes in shock.
It was probably the first time she had witnessed a brother-in-law and sister-in-law in a wedding dress shop
