“My calligraphy has collector’s value,” she used to say every year.
“No one would collect it if your name was on it.”
This year, she didn’t even bother with the usual excuse.
Just said flatly, “Too busy with wedding preparations to write anything.”
Wedding preparations?
I was the one who visited more than twenty boutiques to find her ideal wedding dress.
I was the one who compared over thirty venue quotes to book the perfect hotel.
I was the one who stayed up night after night, handwriting over three hundred invitations until my fingers cramped.
And what did she do?
She showed up once—spent less than five minutes trying on the main dress. The entire time, she stared at her watch, visibly impatient, as if every second spent with me was a chore.
It should have been obvious all along.
She never loved me. The signs were always there.
My chest tightened suddenly. I tilted my head back, blinking rapidly.
Not today. Not on my birthday. I’ve already shed too many tears.
Let me keep at least one last shred of dignity.
Sometime deep in the night, my phone buzzed. Half-asleep, I answered without thinking.
Olivia’s voice tore through the line like a whip.
“Alex! Get to the hospital—NOW! My brother’s in trouble!”
I jolted fully awake.
Could he have… actually meant what he wrote in that message?
Panic surged. I didn't even change out of my pajamas—just slipped on my slippers and ran out the door.
When I arrived at the hospital, breathless and disheveled, the scene that greeted me made me freeze.
Danny sat comfortably in bed, propped up by pillows, looking completely fine.
Olivia was peeling an apple for him, her movements slow and tender.
They looked… peaceful. Harmonious. Like a portrait of calm.
While I—Hair a mess, slippers half-falling off, shirt inside out—looked like a complete fool.
The moment Olivia saw me, her face twisted with fury
She rushed forward, grabbed me by the arm and dragged me to her brother’s bedside.
“Kneel for my brother!”
“What—” I began, stunned. But before I could react, she suddenly kicked the back of my knee.
Pain shot through my leg as I dropped to the ground, my kneecap slamming against the cold tile
I gasped, momentarily paralyzed by the searing ache
“Olivia! Are you insane?!”
Her eyes burned with venom
“My brother slit his wrists! He almost died!” she screamed
“Don’t call me crazy—I should kill you right now!”
Danny’s voice cracked as he played the victim perfectly.
“Sister… I sent him a message to apologize. But he blocked me. He must hate me. He doesn’t want to see me. So what’s the point of living…”
I didn’t even want to look at him.
But I lifted my head to assess the damage. A faint, half-centimeter scratch lined his wrist. Cleaned, disinfected, already scabbed over.
That was supposed to be a suicide attempt?
My heart twisted—not with guilt, but something closer to disbelief.
I forced out a bitter smile.
“Olivia, if I came back tomorrow… would the wound already be gone?”
Her temper exploded.
“Alex! How can you be so cruel? Do you even understand what could have happened if I hadn’t found him in time? He could have bled to death!”
That—was love.
A tiny scratch made her unravel with worry.
Meanwhile, when I bled from my forehead, she didn’t even blink.
She loved Danny. Desperately. Blindingly.
And me? I was just the supporting role in her drama.
The realization hit hard. I stayed silent, lips pressed into a line.
That silence sent her over the edge.
She picked up the fruit knife and hurled it at my feet.
“If you think this is nothing, then cut yourself the same way!”
“Feel it. That’s what you owe my brother!”
I stared at her, stunned.
This—this was the woman I loved for five years?
And now, she looked at me as if I were scum beneath her shoe.
I felt nothing. Not anger. Not pain. Just… emptiness.
Just a knife, right? Fine. I’ll return what she wants.
Lowering my gaze to hide the sting in my eyes, I picked up the knife and, without hesitation, made a shallow slice across my wrist.
Danny let out a high-pitched scream.
I stood up slowly, blood dripping and held my arm in front of Olivia’s face.
“Is that enough?”
She blinked, lashes trembling. Her expression was not fear or guilt—but disgust.
And without another glance, she turned away, to comfort Danny.
Soft words. Gentle touch. As if I weren’t even there.
And then she muttered under her breath, almost scolding:
“Why did you cut so deep? Stupid.”
I laughed silently and staggered toward the door.
Then I heard her voice behind me, flat and commanding.
"Alex, reflect well while you're with your family. I’ll come pick you up in three days."
I laughed harder—so hard that tears streamed down my face.
Olivia... let’s never see each other again.
