Jilted at the Altar My Fiancée Chose Her Fake Brother

The thread that had been pulled tight in my mind all this time finally snapped.

I didn't even think. My right hand clenched into a fist and I threw everything I had into his face.

Ah!!

Oswald let out a short, ugly scream, stumbled back several steps, and crashed hard to the floor.

He clutched his nose, and blood welled bright red between his fingers, dripping onto the boards.

For an instant the world seemed to stop.

"Oswald!"

Michelle's cry went up, shrill.

She threw herself down beside him, catching hold of him in a panic, wiping the blood off his face with her sleeve.

The look she turned on me was full of shock and fury.

"Joseph! What did you do! Have you lost your mind?!"

"You know Oswald has a condition. How could you hit him that hard?!"

I looked at Michelle. Her whole heart, her whole gaze, was on Oswald groaning on the floor, and she never once saw the wound bleeding on my head.

I wanted to demand it of her.

So the moment he had an episode, arson and murder would all be understandable?

So in her heart, I was forever meant to be the one sacrificed, the one required to understand?

But before I could get out a single syllable, a tearing pain ripped through my skull, as if something had gone off inside it.

Everything in front of me began to spin, and then I went out completely.

......

When I came to again, the first thing I registered was that particular smell of disinfectant, cold and sharp in my nose.

I forced my heavy eyelids open, and my blurred sight slowly pulled into focus on the plain white ceiling of a hospital room.

"You're awake?"

I turned my head a little and saw a doctor in a white coat standing by the bed, looking down at the chart in his hand.

"How are you feeling?"

He stepped closer and checked the gauze on my head.

"Mild concussion, plus a laceration on your forehead. Five stitches."

"You got lucky. The glass didn't hit anything vital."

He paused, and his tone took on a note of seriousness and puzzlement. "The girl who brought you in. That's your girlfriend, isn't it?"

"What happened here, to leave you like this?"

"Her younger brother seemed extremely worked up. He was crying and carrying on over in the ER."

"She's been calming him down the whole time. Didn't even have a moment to come see you while you were in surgery."

I pulled at the corner of my mouth and said nothing.

Seeing me like that, the doctor sighed and asked no more.

In the evening, the door to the room was pushed gently open.

Michelle walked in.

Her makeup was smudged, and there was exhaustion in her eyes.

She came to the bedside, looked at my gauze-wrapped head, and was silent for a few seconds.

"What did the doctor say?"

I answered calmly. "I won't die."

Michelle knit her brows. "Joseph, don't talk like that. Oswald, he—"

"How is he?"

I cut her off and lifted my eyes straight to hers.

Michelle pressed her lips together. "You cracked the bone in his nose. They're still treating it."

"The most important thing is that he was terrified. He's been unstable this whole time, and his condition's getting worse."

Cracked the bone in his nose.

I listened to the verdict without the slightest ripple inside me.

If anything, I thought that punch had landed too soft.

"So?"

My cold response stopped her short, and her tone slid, out of habit, into that familiar lecturing note.

"Joseph, I know you're angry, but can't you be a little more reasonable?"

"Oswald had too much to drink, and then he had an episode. He couldn't control himself at all!"

"You're a normal person. How could you stoop to his level and hit him that hard?"