From Wedding Vows to Goodbye

I sat by the roadside for what felt like hours, my thoughts swirling in a chaotic mess, until I saw Ethan walking out with Lily. His arm, which had been protectively wrapped around hers, dropped the moment he noticed me.

"Why are you sitting here instead of going inside? It’s filthy," he remarked with disdain, completely oblivious to my tear-swollen eyes. As my gaze fell on Lily, he instinctively moved to shield her, his stance resembling the way he used to protect me when we were children.

But now, our roles have reversed. I couldn’t help but curl my lips into a bitter smile. I hadn't even said anything yet, but Ethan spoke first.

“Don’t misunderstand,” he began hastily. “Lily drank too much tonight, so I just brought her back here to rest for a bit. She was feeling embarrassed and wanted to leave as soon as it got dark. I was worried about her going alone, so I thought I’d walk her back.”

Ethan, who never bothered to explain himself to me, was now stumbling over his words, trying to justify Lily's presence. He seemed like a stranger, a man I barely knew, even though I had stood by his side for twenty-two years.

I took a deep breath, my tone filled with sarcasm. “If she had any sense, she wouldn't be here with someone else's fiancé. And, by the way, it's already past midnight.”

Exposed, Ethan's expression quickly darkened. “Samantha, Lily is your sister. What do you mean by saying that?”

Sister?

I felt my eyelashes tremble. He was calling the woman who had taken everything from me, my sister. Did he forget what Lily had done to me?

I was swapped and kept away from my real family for seven years by Lily’s mother, abused and neglected. When I was finally found by my birth parents, Lily made sure I was blamed and humiliated, stripping me of any love or acceptance I might have received. Her mother and she didn't stop at just taking my family — they destroyed my dreams and left my hand permanently damaged.

I would never forgive Lily, much less accept her as my sister.

“She is not my sister,” I retorted. “She’s just the daughter of a trafficker.”

My defiance earned me a slap from Ethan.

“Samantha, you’ve gone too far. Apologize to Lily right now.”

“I won’t.” I stared defiantly into his eyes, my fingers digging into my palms so hard I felt the skin break. Blood seeped through the bandage, but it couldn’t compare to the pain in my heart.

The same man who once tore up over my smallest injury had now struck me for the first time — all for Lily.

Behind Ethan, Lily gave me a triumphant smile, before switching to a look of feigned innocence and tugging at Ethan's sleeve. “It’s okay, Ethan. I shouldn’t have come. It’s all my fault. Please don’t fight because of me.”

Ethan held her hand silently, his gaze toward me growing colder by the second.

“Samantha, what happened back then was all her birth mother’s doing. It had nothing to do with Lily. It’s been so many years, why can’t you let it go?”

I almost laughed at his naivety. "You love to act generous with other people’s suffering, don’t you, Ethan? You saw scars all over my body. You saw my hand that will never hold a paintbrush again. And you call that petty?"

Ethan, clearly embarrassed by my words, lost all semblance of calm. He pointed at me, his voice no longer gentle. "Look at yourself, Samantha, how bitter and twisted you’ve become. Is it any wonder your parents don’t like you?"

With that, he shoved me aside and walked past me with Lily, shielding her as he did. His push was forceful; I crashed into a streetlight pole, pain shooting through my back, making it hard to straighten up.

This was the third time in one day that Ethan had laid a hand on me.

When we were ten, Lily framed me with her own body, causing my parents to hate me. I cried so hard, and it was ten-year-old Ethan who comforted me with his innocent, childlike voice.