For over a decade, my younger brother and I had fought over the same girl.
But she always preferred him—the brother who could do it all.
It drove me insane. I threw myself into learning everything I could, mastering anything that might make her notice me, even just a glance.
By twenty-five, I'd not only graduated from MIT, but earned an MBA from Harvard on top of it.
Yet the moment I came home, Eileen Mason pulled her hand away from mine.
"The only one I like is Marcus. Stop wasting your time."
I stood frozen.
My buddies had a bottle of whiskey ready, expecting me to drown my sorrows.
I didn't take it. I just stood there, a little dazed.
"Why do I suddenly find her so... boring?
"Dull. Uninteresting. Nothing but a pretty face.
"I can't even understand what I saw in her in the first place.
"Am I just fickle?"
My buddy laughed.
"You're not fickle. You've grown. She hasn't."
...
My brother Marcus Farley and I stepped out of the car at the same time.
Eileen Mason didn't hesitate. She walked straight past me and looped her arm through his.
Marcus shot me a quiet, mocking smile.
Smug. Deliberate.
Everyone around us ducked their heads and grinned.
They all knew what came next—me snapping at Marcus, fighting for Eileen's attention.
Then Eileen would scold me for being immature, and I'd lose my temper, and the whole circus would play out the way it always did.
But a moment passed, and I didn't move.
All those years I'd nearly driven myself into the ground trying to earn a single look from Eileen Mason. School. Startups. Building a media brand from nothing.
After navigating boardroom politics, after rubbing shoulders with people who shaped policy at the highest levels—
Marcus's little routine?
It was laughable.
I kept my expression neutral and handed the gift bags to one of the housekeepers.
"From my parents, for Mr. and Mrs. Mason."
Marcus's smile faltered.
Eileen frowned and glanced at me.
Inside the villa, I noticed the dining room table had only four chairs.
Mr. Mason, Mrs. Mason, and Eileen already accounted for three.
Marcus let out a soft laugh.
"Sorry, bro. Forgot to mention you were coming too. Looks like they didn't set a place for you."
"Why are you apologizing for that?"
Eileen turned a cold gaze on me.
"Russ Farley, Marcus didn't do it on purpose. Just go get yourself a chair. There's no need to make him feel bad about it."
It was always like this.
Eileen always took Marcus's side without question.
But the strange thing was—I genuinely felt nothing.
I couldn't even remember why I'd fought so bitterly with my brother over her in the first place.
"Miss Mason, I haven't said a single word yet."
Eileen blinked.
In the past, I would've already been shouting, accusing Marcus of his passive-aggressive games.
"Bro, you're upset."
Marcus stepped forward. "Don't be mad. I'll go grab you a chair."
He moved to get one, but Eileen caught his arm and pulled him back.
She looked at me, her voice ice-cold.
"This is the Mason house, not a place for you to throw your weight around.
"If you don't want to get the chair yourself, then don't bother staying for dinner."
A few of the housekeepers couldn't hold back their laughter.
I caught someone whispering, "Watch—he'll go fetch it himself like a puppy."
"Please. When has he ever not swallowed his pride just to sit a little closer to Miss Mason?"
"That won't be necessary."
I smiled faintly.
"I only came to drop off gifts from my parents. I wasn't planning to stay for dinner.
"Besides, I have somewhere to be. Enjoy your evening."
Eileen stared at me. Something unfamiliar flickered across her face.
I didn't acknowledge it. I turned and walked out, my stride unhurried.
Behind me, Marcus's voice carried a note of wounded confusion.
"What's so urgent that you have to rush off, bro?"
