I Watched My Fiancé Marry His So-Called Sister

No matter how I saw it, it felt like they were laughing at me. After all, I was the one who suggested watching a movie today, and I was also the one who wanted us to wait for the meteor shower together.

Drunk and hurt, I smashed the photo in the living room, then grabbed the album that had held our memories for so long and cut it into pieces with scissors. At last, I took out the love letters I had saved and set them on fire.

As the flames burned, old memories came rushing back.

Pietro and I met during our first year of college. There wasn’t any big story behind us; we simply liked each other and naturally became a couple. From university to work, for seven years straight, we were the pair everyone around us admired.

But on the very day Pietro proposed to me, his so-called “little sister,” Luna came back crying, saying her heart was broken and that Pietro was the only man she had left in her life. She said if he got married, she wouldn’t know how to keep living.

Using the excuse of staying with Luna to help her recover from her mental trauma, Pietro backed out of his proposal.

I thought it was just a short delay, but soon, he didn’t even want to visit my parents anymore, and all his attention turned to pampering Luna.

On our anniversary, one call from Luna was enough to make him walk away. He skipped my birthday yet threw a huge celebration for hers.

Even though he always claimed to hate the smell of oil from cooking, he started preparing meals for Luna every single day.

The only time Pietro ever got upset with Luna was when she cut my brake line on purpose, making me crash into the greenbelt and sending me to the hospital with a bleeding head.

That day, Pietro swore he would teach Luna a lesson and stay away from her, but by the next morning, everything was already different.

He came in holding chicken soup and said, “Luna has been feeling down since the breakup. She only did that because she was afraid you’d take me away from her. She didn’t realize things would turn out this bad.”

“Luna cried all night and almost slit her wrists. She already said she’s sorry, so please let it go, okay?”

At that moment, I should have known what truly mattered and what didn’t, but I still held onto a fragile hope, believing Pietro would really keep his distance.

Yet now, in just a year, Luna had nearly taken everything that once belonged to me.

The warmth between us faded, and what we once had turned into ashes.

Outside, a meteor shower crossed the night sky as I called a real estate agent to sell the house. Curling up alone on the sofa, I stayed there until morning. When I opened my eyes, someone had covered me with a blanket.

The living room was tidy and spotless. Then Pietro stepped out of the kitchen with breakfast in hand and said softly, “I made your favorite stuffed pancake.”

I didn’t touch the utensils.

Pietro said, “Luna can’t handle emotional pressure, so yesterday I could only protect her.”

“And you, you’re mentally stronger.”

Not one word of apology. Everything he said sounded like he was justifying himself.

As if I somehow deserved this humiliation.

“You forgot, I’ve always hated egg-stuffed pancakes.”

I finally spoke up.

Pietro froze for a second, then realized that egg-stuffed pancakes were Luna’s favorite.

He had made them without thinking.

This wasn’t the first or even the second time. The things I disliked were always the ones Luna loved.

As for my likes, Pietro had long forgotten them.

“It’s just breakfast, don’t be so picky.”

Once he regained his calm, a faint look of impatience flashed across his face.

He hadn’t been like this before.

Later, all his kindness went to Luna, and all his anger was saved for me, his reason being that I was the person closest to him.

“Go ahead.”

I took a deep breath. “What does Luna want this time?”

It was always the same; whenever Pietro showed me a bit of warmth, it was connected to Luna.

“It’s nothing big.” Pietro sounds patient again. “Luna wants to hold a pretend wedding with me.”