He had once been the kind of man who labeled every medicine bottle with its date and purpose, afraid that if he wasn’t home, Brittany would be too clueless to take care of herself.
But that care, that concern, it had nothing to do with her anymore.
Now, she sat in the dim glow of the living room, patching up her wounds alone.
The pain wasn’t just in her injuries. It was everywhere. It was in the way she stared at the handwriting on those old bottles, in the way she bit her lip to stop the tears from falling.
For years, she had lived in his shadow, believing she mattered.
How pathetic.
Just as the tears threatened to slip, a blinding light sliced through the darkness, striking her eyes.
"Brittany."
She turned her head sharply.
Theresa stood there, phone flashlight in hand, her gaze unreadable.
"We need to talk."
Her lips were swollen, her flushed skin marred with faint scratches. And on her neck, undeniable proof of intimacy.
Brittany’s heart twisted. Of course. They were engaged. How could they not be doing those things?
Theresa tilted her head, watching her reaction.
"I know you blame me for sending you away, for taking Weston from you. Isn’t that right?"
A sharp tremor ran through Brittany’s body.
Theresa’s lips curled as she reached for her hand.
"But you need to understand—there was never a future for you two. Not just because he’s your brother, but because a man like him has no patience for little girls playing pretend."
Brittany felt the air leave her lungs.
"Stop talking," she whispered, her voice unsteady, trembling.
But Theresa had no intention of stopping.
"Weston and I are equals, in background, in capability. But you?" She tilted her head, her smile laced with cruelty. "You’re just the orphan the family took in. Don’t waste your time coveting what isn’t yours. Girls who think that way end up locked in places like that."
She laughed, carefree, unbothered by the way Brittany’s eyes burned red.
Her body shook, but after everything, after the hospital, after the silent suffering, she was too weak to fight back.
And wasn’t Theresa just telling the truth?
"When summer ends, Weston and I will send you to a boarding university abroad." She sighed as if she were offering a favor. "It’s time you learned independence. Do you have any idea how repulsed he is by your feelings?"
Brittany’s breath hitched.
She looked up only to meet Theresa’s indifferent gaze, her smile unbearably cruel.
"I told you to stop!"
A raw, fractured scream shattered the silence.
It was as if she had gone mad after leaving that place.
Having the truth she fought to bury ripped open by the very woman who had stolen everything from her.
Like a wound barely scabbed over, torn apart once more.
Brittany shoved Theresa’s hand away.
She didn’t resist. Her back hit the coffee table, sending the thermos crashing to the floor. Hot water splashed across the hardwood, hissing as it met the cold air.
"What the hell are you two doing?"
Weston’s voice cut through the tension.
He stepped out, frowning, eyes dark with displeasure.
Then he saw Theresa. His pupils contracted.
Before Brittany could react, he had already brushed past her, reaching for Theresa’s hand.
"What happened?" His voice dropped, concern laced in every syllable.
The once flawless skin on her hand was flushed red, scalded by the spilled water. Against her pale complexion, it stood out like an accusation.
"I’m fine." Theresa let out a soft, helpless sigh. "I heard Brittany’s footsteps and wanted to comfort her. I suppose I was too hasty... I forgot she still hasn’t fully accepted me."
Only then did Weston turn to Brittany.
The warmth, the tenderness that once filled his gaze, was gone.
In its place, only cold disappointment.
It was as if he already knew. As if the truth didn’t matter, this was just a formality.
"Brittany, apologize."
The security cameras were right there. Yet he wouldn’t check them.
He wouldn’t even listen.
Of course, he wouldn’t. That was just the way he was.
Once Weston made up his mind, nothing could change it.
Once, he had decided she was his beloved sister, the one he spoiled beyond reason.
Now, he had decided Theresa was the center of his world.
And no one else was allowed to come close.
