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Valentine's Day with His Sister, We Broke Up Novel Cover

Valentine's Day with His Sister, We Broke Up

When asked to stand as bridesmaid and groomsman for a Valentine’s Day wedding, Darian readily agrees. However, he suddenly backs out, packing his bags for an urgent business trip. Suspicions arise when his girlfriend discovers his adoptive sister's secret social media post. The sister boldly claims she won't allow Darian to wear formal wedding attire with any other woman. Confronted with this evidence, the devastating truth of their inappropriate relationship finally comes to light.
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Chapter 4

Panic flashed in his usually calm eyes. “Wait for me, I’ll be right back.”

After he left, my vision went dark. It wasn’t until the rounds nurse found me that she gently lifted me back onto the bed.

Staring hopelessly at the incandescent lamp overhead, I bit down on my lip. “Please, help me book an abortion surgery.”

Five years ago, I had already aborted one child for him. At that time, he said he wasn’t ready for marriage.

But thinking back now—that just happened to be when Selene was preparing for her college entrance exams.

Maybe even then, it was another compromise he made for his sister’s twisted possessiveness—at my expense.

After signing the consent papers, my phone chimed. Selene had just updated her social media.

[With just a little trick, I managed to fool my brother into coming with me to celebrate Valentine's Day early…]

The photo was of two hands interlocked, the background an airport.

On Darian’s hand was the very ring I had bought for him.

Just because of a single lie from her, he abandoned me—sick and in pain—to fly abroad with her.

When their plane took off, I was lying on the operating table.

When they landed on the beach, I was being wheeled out of surgery.

By the time Azura arrived, her makeup was streaked with tears.

“Why didn’t you say anything and went through the abortion alone? I’ll call that bastard Darian right now.”

I weakly raised my hand, forcing a faint smile. “Azura, it’s over between us.”

Darian, I didn’t want you anymore.

Because of my injuries and the abortion, I stayed in the hospital for quite some time.

On the day of my discharge, I hadn’t expected him to show up to pick me up. Dressed in a black trench coat, he looked travel-worn and weary.

“I cut my business trip short, Ruby. I’ll spend Valentine's Day with you, don’t be mad anymore.”

He spoke on his own for a long time—explanations, apologies—until finally his gaze fixed on my face.

“Why do you look so pale? Let me take you home.”

He scooped me up into his arms. My palm landed hard across his face, yet he didn’t dodge.

“Ruby, I won’t leave you alone again. Let’s get married.”

I suddenly felt like laughing.

I had waited eight years—yet it was only now, after I had given up, that he finally said he wanted to marry me.

Selene was sitting in the passenger seat, still in her vacation sundress, not even having had time to change.

When she saw me get in, she handed me a coconut. “Ruby, it was my fault before. I’m here to apologize.”

Darian leaned over to fasten my seatbelt for me, then said in an indifferent tone, “Selene will be staying at our place for a few days.”

I ignored them both, calmly gazing out the window at the scenery sliding past in reverse.

Tomorrow, once Azura’s wedding was over, I would be leaving too.

Beside me, Selene suddenly giggled at her phone. “That guy who hit on me just now sent me a message on WhatsApp.”

Darian’s face was expressionless, but his tone brooked no argument. “Delete him.”

“I think I should give it a try.”

“I said, delete him.”

Selene stuck out her tongue. “Darian, you’re stricter than a boyfriend.”

In the rearview mirror, I caught a flash of jealousy in his eyes. But I no longer felt anything.

When we got back to the apartment, I shut myself in my room to pack my luggage.

At least this trip back had been useful—I wouldn’t have to trouble Darian to ship my things for me.

Maybe I was too exhausted. I lay down on the bed and accidentally fell asleep.

When I woke up, I immediately sensed something strange on my head. Panicked, I rushed into the bathroom—only to see my waist-length hair hacked short, ragged like it had been chewed by a dog.

Out in the living room, Selene was toying with the locks she had just chopped off from me. “Who gave you permission to cut off my hair!”

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