The Game of Marriage, The Entanglement of Love

Three years ago, my younger sister and I secretly married the two brothers of the Cain Family.

I married the CEO, while she married the vice president.

Before my father passed away, he traveled three days in hard-seat train just to attend our wedding.

I knelt at the Cain Family’s door, refusing to eat or drink for two days, begging Clifford to go along with the act. He finally agreed.

But when it was time for him to show up, I screamed until my throat was raw and still, there was no sign of him.

His brother Adrian didn’t show either.

My father was so anxious he collapsed on the spot and my sister knelt beside him, sobbing uncontrollably.

Trembling, I called Clifford, but he hung up three times before finally answering.

Sensing the desperation in my voice, he cut me off, his tone sharp with irritation. "You’re always using your dad as an excuse. I already promised, why would I back out? Tere’s hand is bleeding and I need to get her to the hospital! She got hurt because of you! Can you stop causing trouble at a time like this?"

Before I could respond, the call ended and he blocked me.

Upon hearing this, my sister frantically called her husband, Adrian Cain, pleading through her tears for him to come to the wedding.

But instead, she was met with a barrage of anger,

"Have you never heard of 'the boy who cried wolf'? Why is it that every time something happens to Tere, your dad magically falls apart? You might not be done with this act, but I’m over it! I still have hospital bills to pay—don’t waste my time!"

The moment the call ended, our father took his last breath, lying on the floor.

Our wedding turned into his funeral.

My sister and I handled all the arrangements together.

We also sent messages to the Cain brothers, informing them of our decision to divorce.

But instead of any response, they returned to our home with Tere Jules in tow.

By the time we finished the funeral, it was already nightfall.

My sister and I went back home and only then, exhausted, could we help each other out of the cheap rental wedding dresses.

It had been ten hours since I sent the divorce messages.

Still no reply.

This wasn’t the first time they had abandoned us for Tere.

I never expected that even when it came to divorce, we would have to wait in line behind their precious "goddess."

In the three years of our marriage, whenever it was just the two of us, Tere always seemed to have some sort of "accident."

If it wasn’t a leaky pipe, it was the gas stove refusing to ignite.

Small, everyday problems—yet when they happened to Tere, they were treated like catastrophic disasters by the Cain brothers.

My sister had come to me for help countless times.

At first, I questioned it and I even fought over it, but over time, the truth became painfully clear: our place in their lives was decided the moment we entered these secret marriages.

After packing up our things, along with the clothes our father left behind, my sister and I were ready to leave when they finally returned.

Tere followed obediently behind them, waiting for them to fetch her slippers.

Their playful laughter instantly stopped when they saw us.

Annoyance flashed in Clifford’s eyes as he spoke coldly, “Where are you going now? Why are you acting crazy again? Didn’t I already explain today’s situation?”

He stared at my bloodshot, exhausted eyes, completely unfazed.

His voice grew more impatient, "Come on, the wedding was just for show anyway. Tere got hurt and it happened to coincide. What do you expect me to do? I’ll just make it up to you with another one, alright?"

“And besides, if your dad hadn’t come, she wouldn’t have felt the need to make that herbal soup for him and ended up cutting her hand! I’m not even blaming you for that, so what more do you want? Enough is enough!"

Beside me, my sister clung to my hand tighter, her grip trembling.

Adrian, standing beside him, didn’t even bother to explain. He simply bent down to fetch Tere’s slippers and even helped her put them on with care.

Tere glanced at the suitcases in our hands and then turned to Clifford with a pitiful look.

"Cliff, you don’t need to say that. It was my fault for ruining your wedding. I’m the one to blame," she said, her voice soft and apologetic.

She then turned to me, her tone innocent.

“Wanda, why did you bring out your suitcases? Is Uncle planning to stay with us?"

Her voice dripped with fake concern. "I’m really sorry. I cut my hand today and it was bleeding so much. I got so scared and that’s why I called them. I had no idea they’d overreact and take me to the hospital. You know I don’t have many friends here…”

I stared at the tiny band-aid on her finger, suddenly feeling pathetic.

Ridiculous and pathetic.

“If you don’t mind, you can be the one I call in the future when something happens. Would you be my big sister? I’ve always felt such warmth from you!”

She flashed a sweet, coy smile, but her eyes gleamed with smug satisfaction.

In that instant, the image of my father’s last breath flashed through my mind.

My nails dug painfully into my palm, the sharp sting keeping me grounded.

“I already have a sister,” I said coldly. “Don’t call me that.”

Clifford’s face darkened completely, his eyes brimming with anger.

"What’s with your attitude? Apologize to Tere right now! She’s hurt, yet she still tried to make that herbal soup for your dad. Do you have any idea how much effort she put into it? How could you treat her like this?"

I glanced at the thermos in his hand and let out a bitter, icy laugh.

"I've been fair to everyone, except myself. Let's get a divorce. I'm exhausted."

The anger froze on his face, disbelief filling his eyes that *I* was the one saying this.

My usually reserved sister, for once, mustered up the courage to speak to Adrian.

"We’re getting a divorce too," she said.

We couldn’t stand another minute in this suffocating house.

Adrian, in the middle of helping a woman change her shoes, froze. He stood up abruptly, his face full of shock.