The Distance Between Us was His Closeness with His Sister

Verity’s POV

At that moment, it felt like the air was being slowly pulled out of my lungs.

What Tucker did hurt more than if he’d questioned me directly, far more than if he’d accused me like my brothers did.

He’d built everything from nothing. I knew how hard it was for him, so I’d never once asked him for “allowance.”

I had my own income, my own savings.

He rarely gave me anything. Gifts were few and far between.

And I never complained about it.

But now, he handed over the money he earned himself to Kelsey—so casually.

Shares under Kelsey’s name. That meant that when Tucker started his company three years ago, he’d already counted her share in from the very beginning.

At some point, my phone screen had gone dark.

All those bank statements. All that proof. Suddenly, none of it mattered anymore.

No one would believe me. No one even wanted to.

Tucker coaxed Kelsey into cooking with him. My brothers stood around her, laughing and chatting. Not one of them spared me a glance.

Then my phone vibrated. I looked down and saw a message from my lawyer.

[The divorce process will be completed in one week.]

I stared at that line for a few seconds, and strangely, my heart settled.

Right. Why was I still stressing over what was true or not? I was about to be divorced anyway. And I was leaving for Canada soon.

Who my brothers cared about. Who Tucker chose to be kind to. None of it had anything to do with me anymore.

As for the Severins' money, whether they wanted to give it to me or not, part of it was mine by right in the first place!

I didn’t stay for that tasteless, miserable dinner. I just took a cab back to the apartment Tucker and I shared and started packing.

In the master bedroom closet hung all the matching pajamas and lounge sets I’d picked out for us.

I stood there for a while, then packed every single piece into a box.

I was the only one who ever cared about those things anyway.

When Tucker wore them, he never cared whether they matched. He never even looked at me.

The plants in the corner of the living room—I’d picked and raised each one based on his preferences.

The racing models on the bookshelf—I’d hunted them down one by one for him.

Tucker never once asked where any of it came from.

It was like those things just naturally belonged there.

This apartment was filled with traces of me.

And yet, the things that actually belonged to me were pitifully few.

Honestly, before Kelsey showed up, I could endure a lot.

Tucker being cold—I endured it. His being bad at expressing himself—I made excuses for him.

I’d even thought that if he fell for someone else one day, I might still have a chance to pull his heart back.

But it just had to be Kelsey.

The foster sister who’d lived through those dependent, difficult years with him.

A past he could never cut away from his life.

They shared more than ten years of memories.

That kind of bond and reliance never left any room for me—not from the start.

In the month since Kelsey arrived, I saw for the first time how Tucker truly loved someone.

I knew then—he fully intended to go on loving her quietly for the rest of his life, in the name of being her brother-in-law.

But why did I have to be the one sacrificed?

I’m not some idiot who exists just to be used!

Crying and cursing under my breath, I dug through the very bottom of the drawer and found my first love letter to him.

The paper had yellowed with age.

What I’d written on it was still clear.

[Tucker, I’ll keep waiting until you like me.]

I stared at it for a long time, then gently placed it at the very bottom of the box.

‘Verity from ten years ago,’ I thought, ‘I’m sorry. I don’t want to wait for him anymore.’

Tucker came home very late that night.

The cardboard boxes on the floor were impossible to miss. He glanced at them, his brow tightening slightly, like he wanted to say something.

But the hesitation passed quickly.

To him, it was probably just me being moody again—nothing worth paying attention to.

He changed his shoes, his tone casual as ever.

“Why are you packing things up?”

When I didn’t respond, he paused, then added, “Stuff’s old? Thinking of replacing it?”

I answered quietly, “Mm.”

He looked at me for a couple of seconds, as if confirming I wasn’t about to start a fight, then didn’t ask anything else.

He was never good at dealing with my emotions.

And he’d never felt the need to try very hard.

It never once crossed his mind that I might be packing because I was leaving.

I bet in his heart, he was completely certain of one thing: I would never leave him.

After showering, Tucker got into bed like he always did and pulled me into his arms from behind.

His chin rested lightly on my shoulder. His breath was close, his voice low and rough with desire.

“Dad called me today. He said it’s time we have a kid.”