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Irvin's brow furrowed, a flicker of displeasure crossing his eyes.
"That Daniela's got no filter, she'll say anything."
"That card's just my everyday spending card. I was only teasing her with it. It's not the one where we keep the wedding savings. How could you take that seriously?"
I didn't press him. There was no point.
After all, I wanted more than anyone for the card he'd given Daniela to not be that Chavez Bank card.
When Irvin handed it over, maybe he'd forgotten.
The account had been linked to my phone number when it was opened.
Six months ago, that card hit five hundred thousand dollars, and nothing had moved in it since.
But three minutes ago, an account alert had popped up on my phone.
A purchase of thirty thousand. A Chanel bag.
And right after that, a bag in exactly that style showed up on Daniela's feed.
"Ordered a $30K Chanel bag on the spot! Birthday present from Irvin, he spoils me more than a real brother would!"
How badly I wanted to throw that post and that account alert straight in Irvin's face.
But I didn't.
Every time we fought over his favoritism, it ended the same way, both of us storming off with nothing settled.
Seeing that I stayed quiet, Irvin seemed to grow irritated.
"Hilda, we've been together all these years, and you still don't trust me?"
He sighed, his tone softening a little.
"You're the only one in my heart. Daniela's just my little sister. Do you really have to fight me over one card?"
He reached out to take my hand. I stepped back half a pace and let it pass.
"I'm not fighting."
I said, "Irvin, I'm just tired."
Irvin leaned closer, about to say something more, when a voice came from behind him.
"Irvin!"
"My dress zipper's stuck, come help me, quick!"
"Coming!"
Irvin answered in the brightest, lightest voice.
But when he turned back to me, that same faint impatience slipped into his tone.
"See that? It's your sister who needs me."
"Enough. Get some rest, stop letting your mind run in circles. I'm going to help Daniela. She's like a little fool, can't do a single thing on her own."
As Irvin turned and walked out.
I saw it clearly, that doting smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
The bedroom door slammed shut, and the sound landed on my chest like a dull hammer.
I sat on the edge of the bed, watching the dusk deepen outside the window, my fingers slowly tightening around my phone.
Even through the wall, I could catch the faint drift of their conversation.
"Irvin, I heard you lie to my sister. You already saved up the five hundred thousand, so why tell her you hadn't yet?"
Daniela asked in that innocent voice of hers.
"If she knew you gave me the whole bank card, wouldn't she be furious?"
Irvin gave a doting little laugh.
"I don't want to get married that soon."
"And besides, if I really married Hilda, I'd be your brother-in-law. Could you still hang all over me like this?"
"You silly little thing."
I leaned against the door panel, tears spilling over as I let my body slide heavily down it.
Just then, my phone buzzed again.
It was the confirmation email from the company.
"Ms. Hilda Sullivan, are you certain you agree to the transfer to Australia? This assignment will last a minimum of five years, up to ten. Please consider carefully before you reply."
Three minutes ago, I'd still been hesitating.
But now, the last scrap of hesitation left in me scattered like ash blown clean away by the wind.
I hit confirm.
The company had sent out the notice last month: eligible employees could apply.
At the time I'd swiped past it without a second thought.
Irvin's career was on the rise. At the rate he was saving, he'd have the five hundred thousand by the end of this year.
Our wedding was set, naturally, for next spring.
We'd already found the apartment. Everything was moving forward, step by step.
I couldn't leave. I shouldn't leave.
But not until yesterday did I learn that he'd saved up that five-hundred-thousand wedding fund long ago, and had never once meant to use it for our wedding.
He'd even lied that the money wasn't enough yet, only to keep stalling the date, again and again.
My phone buzzed once. It was HR's reply:
"Hilda Sullivan, your application has been approved. The transfer is tentatively set for one week from now. Details to follow by email. Please prepare accordingly."
From the living room came Daniela's bell-bright laughter.
And mixed in, my mother's doting fuss.
"You, always making Irvin spend money on you."
And Irvin's warm, mild voice: "Don't say that, ma'am. What's a little money spent on Daniela? It's the least I can do."
He wasn't wrong. Spending anything on Daniela was the least he could do.
But spend a single cent on me and it was like it might kill him.
Last year on my birthday, he came home at ten at night, empty-handed, said the bakeries were all closed on the way, he'd make it up another day.
That "another day" still hasn't come.
And when Daniela mentioned offhand last month that she wanted some trendy bubble tea.
He drove halfway across the city first thing the next morning to buy it, and it was still warm when he got back.
All the little rituals and care I'd waited for, hoped to have returned to me.
He gave every bit of it to Daniela, holding nothing back.
In that case, I don't want any of it anymore.
