When My Fiance Fell in Love With My Sister, I Walked Away

【What should I do if I’ve fallen in love with my sister’s fiancé?】 I came across an Instagram post from an account with a default profile picture on my flight back to New York. The comments were brutal, each one harsher than the last. Then I saw a reply from a burner account: 【Don’t blame her. I was the one who led her on.】 【She acts tough, but she’s more fragile than anyone. I just can’t help feeling sorry for her.】 My finger froze on the screen, because the profile picture on that account was the cat my boyfriend, Vincent, had given me. With trembling fingers, I opened the poster’s profile. There was only one video on it. In the video, a woman had her back to the camera as she bent down to water a nearly dead plant, a silver bracelet on her wrist. It was the matching bracelet mom had left for my sister Clara and me before she died. For a long moment, I could barely breathe. Suddenly, I thought back to the first time I brought Vincent home to meet Clara. After one failed relationship, Clara had decided all men were the same. She looked at Vincent coldly and said, “He’s no different from the rest. One day, he’ll betray you too.” Vincent held my hand then and said, each word clear and steady, “If I ever betray Nora, may I lose everything.” Clara only scoffed, “Then we’ll see.” But if all of this was true, I was caught between the sister who had raised me and the man I had loved for five years. What was I supposed to do? Chapter 1 By the time the plane landed in New York, the sky outside the window had already gone dark. I walked out of the arrivals gate in a daze, dragging my suitcase behind me, and saw Clara and Vincent almost at once. They stood among the crowd near the exit, keeping a careful distance from each other.? Clara wore a beige trench coat and held a cup of hot coffee in one hand. Her eye makeup was heavier than usual, but I could still tell at a glance that she had been crying. Vincent did not rush toward me the way he used to. He adjusted his expression into the most natural smile he could manage, then pulled a bouquet from behind his back. “Nora, welcome home.” When he handed me the flowers, both Clara and I froze. They were white roses. Clara loved white roses, while I had always liked baby’s breath. In all the years we had been together, Vincent had never once gotten it wrong. Every year before my birthday, he would even call the florist a week in advance and ask them to save the freshest baby’s breath for me. Vincent seemed to realize it only then. Panic flickered across his face before he quickly explained, “My assistant must have bought the wrong bouquet. I was in a hurry and didn’t look closely. Take these for now. I’ll get you a bigger one later.” I didn’t call him out. I only took the flowers and said softly, “It’s fine.” Clara stepped forward to take my suitcase. “Are you tired from the flight? I made your favorite tomato shrimp soup. It’ll be ready when we get home.” Her voice sounded the same as always, even gentler than usual. Yet when I looked at the hand she reached toward me, my eyes dropped to her wrist before I could stop myself. The silver bracelet was still there. It rested against her pale wrist, delicate and still, exactly like the one I had seen in the Instagram video. In the past, I would have thrown myself into Clara’s arms the moment I saw her. But the post I had seen on the plane kept replaying in my head, again and again, until all I could do was force out a smile. The ride home from the airport was unbearably quiet. Vincent drove. Clara sat in the back. I sat in the passenger seat with the bouquet of white roses in my arms, and the thorns seemed to press into my palms. There was a faint smell of perfume in the car. It was the perfume Clara always wore. I had bought it for her once because I thought it suited her. At the time, she had complained that it was too expensive and said she was not going on dates anyway, so there was no need to be so particular. A few days after I left for my business trip, when we were on a video call, I noticed she had started wearing it. Back then, I even teased her for finally learning how to be a little vain. Now, looking back, it had never been for herself. It had been for Vincent. The air conditioning was also set several degrees warmer than usual. Clara was afraid of the cold. Whenever she rode in the car, Vincent would turn the temperature up for her. When Vincent and I had first started dating, I had once joked that he was more attentive than most men. He had touched my head then and said, “Your family is my family. Of course I’ll take care of her.” The memory suddenly cut deeper than it should have. Vincent tried to talk to me several times. “Did everything go smoothly in Sicily?” “Did you eat on time these past six months?” “You’ve lost weight.” But every time he spoke, his eyes kept drifting to Clara in the rearview mirror, quick and guilty, as though he was checking whether she was all right and whether I had noticed. Clara did not say much throughout the ride. She only looked down at her phone, and when Vincent asked her something, she answered softly, her tone polite enough to sound rehearsed. I watched the familiar streets flash past the window and suddenly felt as if the city had become strange to me. This city held the old apartment where Clara and I grew up, the restaurant where Vincent and I had our first date, and the theater where the three of us used to watch midnight movies together. But now every road felt as though it had been rewritten. When we got home, Clara quickly went into the kitchen to warm up the soup. Vincent took a call and stepped out onto the balcony, his voice low as he talked about work. I was left alone in the living room. I stood there for a long time, holding the bouquet of white roses, before finally setting it down on the coffee table. The flowers were beautiful. They just weren’t meant for me. I dragged my suitcase back to my room, closed the door, and leaned against it for a long while before I opened my phone again. The Instagram page was still on that account with a default profile picture. My chest hurt as though someone had torn it open with their bare hands. I curled up on the floor, unable to make any sound except a broken whimper. I had already read everything once on the plane, but I still could not stop myself from opening it again. Maybe I still refused to accept it. Or maybe I needed to push the knife deeper into my own chest with my own hands before I could finally believe it. Chapter 2 There was nothing on the profile except that one video. I opened it again. The silver chain on Clara’s wrist caught the light, and the tears I had been holding back all the way home finally spilled over. New replies had appeared beneath it. 【The first time I met my sister’s fiancé, I hated him. I had been betrayed before, so I didn’t trust men at all.】 【But he really was good to my sister. She has a sensitive stomach, and he remembered everything she could and couldn’t eat.】 【Whenever she worked late, no matter how busy he was, he would go pick her up. Whatever she liked, he always found a way to get it for her.】 I bit down hard on my lip until I tasted blood. Vincent had been good to me. He remembered the days I got period cramps every month, and his car always had painkillers and heat patches ready.? Once, when I had a stomachache so bad I curled up in bed in the middle of the night, he drove forty minutes to bring me medicine without even changing out of the clothes he had worn to a meeting. I once casually mentioned wanting cake from a shop in Manhattan, and the next day, he stood in line and brought it to me. He did not believe in Christianity, yet before I left on business trips, he would go to church with me and sit quietly on the pew, saying he hoped I would be safe. I had always been grateful that I had found the best man in the world. With shaking hands, I kept scrolling. 【Later, my sister went to Sicily for work and told me I could call him if I needed anything.】 【I said I would rather die than call him. But one night, the power went out, lightning kept flashing outside, and I was so scared I still dialed his number.】 【Half an hour later, he appeared at my door, soaked from the rain. He smiled and asked me, “So even Wonder Woman Clara gets scared?”】 【In that moment, something in me changed, though I couldn’t explain what it was.】 I remembered that night. Vincent had told me about it himself. On the phone, he laughed for a long time, saying Clara looked like she was afraid of nothing, and yet she was scared of the dark. As he talked, there had been a softness in his laughter. I had not noticed it at all. I had even reminded him. “Clara never knows how to show weakness. Take care of her a little for me.” So that sentence had been the beginning. I had been the one who pushed them closer. Behind my closed door, I watched the post keep updating. 【After that, whenever something at home broke, I would think of calling him without meaning to.】 【We started seeing each other more often, and somehow, I stopped hating him so much.】 【He often waited for me after work, then went grocery shopping with me or watched movies with me.】 【He even learned to cook the food I liked. Just like he did for my sister, he wrote down everything I liked and disliked in his notes app.】 The comments had already turned vicious. 【Disgusting! You’re going after your own sister’s boyfriend and still pretending to suffer? Have some shame.】 【I feel bad for the sister. The person closest to her and the man she loves are doing this behind her back. Just thinking about it makes me suffocate.】 【You couldn’t control yourself? Then go die. And the man is absolute trash too.】 Under every cruel comment, that burner account had replied. 【She is suffering more than anyone. She hates herself more than anyone. You have no right to judge her.】 【Yes, I’m trash. But even trash can want to protect someone.】 【If I had met her first, I would have chosen her.】 Then Clara’s newest comment appeared. 【You’re right to curse me. I’m disgusting. I’m filthy. I’ll stay away from him from now on. I can’t lose my sister.】 I stared at that last line until the words blurred. She said she could not lose me, but she had already taken away the one person I thought would stay with me for the rest of my life. The silver bracelet in the video flashed through my mind again. Mom had left Clara and me matching bracelets before she died. She said sisters should have something that matched, so even if we were separated one day, we would remember that someone in this world shared our blood. I had kept mine in a jewelry box and rarely dared to wear it. Clara wore hers all the time, and when I was little, I loved playing with the bracelet on her wrist. She would complain that I was annoying, but she would still hold her hand out and let me turn the tiny silver beads one by one. She was only thirteen then. After our parents died in a car accident, every adult in the family wanted to take us in under the name of caring for us, but all they really wanted was the money our parents had left behind.? Clara stood at the door with a kitchen knife in her hand, crying so hard her whole body shook, but she refused to let anyone in. “Nora has me. I can raise her.” After that, she was the one who came to my parent-teacher conferences, the one who braided my hair, and the one who blushed while teaching me how to use a pad when I got my first period. Other children called for their mom and dad. I always called for Clara. In my heart, she had never been just my sister. She was half a mother to me, and she was the one person in the world I never had to guard myself against. But now, the person behind that post was her. Chapter 3 The phone slipped from my hand and nearly hit the floor. Nausea rose in my throat. I rushed into the bathroom and gripped the sink, retching for a long time, but nothing came out. In the mirror, my face was pale and my eyes were red like I had been crying for hours. Clara knocked on the door outside. “Nora, the soup is ready. Come out and have some.” Her voice was still so gentle. I closed my eyes, my throat aching until I could barely speak. Suddenly, I had no idea how I was supposed to face her. I did not go out for the soup. Through the door, I only said I was too tired and wanted to sleep for a while. Clara stood outside for a long time before she finally sighed softly. “Then call me when you wake up. I’ll warm it for you again.” Only after her footsteps faded did I come out of the bathroom. My room was exactly the way it had been before I left. Clara had changed the diffuser by my bed, ironed my pajamas and hung them in the closet, and left the little cat figurine Vincent had given me six months ago on my desk. One of them was the person closest to me. The other was the man I loved most. The more they treated me as if nothing had changed, the more absurd everything felt. I sat on the edge of the bed for a long time before my phone lit up again. Vincent had sent a message. 【Something came up at work. I’ll be back later. Eat first. Don’t wait for me.】 If it had been before, he would have added several more lines. He would have asked if I felt unwell, whether I missed him, and if I wanted him to bring dessert home. Now there was only this short sentence. I stared at it for a long time and suddenly smiled. So this was what happened when someone’s heart was no longer fully yours. Even his concern became scarce. I wiped away my tears, changed my clothes, and prepared to go out. Clara was cutting fruit in the kitchen. When she saw me, she quickly wiped her hands. “Nora, where are you going?” “The office.” I tried to make my voice sound steady. “I need to submit the report for the Sicily project.” Clara frowned. “You just got off the plane. Your face looks terrible. Can’t it wait until tomorrow?” She truly worried about me. She had also truly betrayed me. Holding those two truths together felt like being torn in half. I lowered my head and avoided her eyes. “I’ll be back soon.” She wanted to say more, but in the end, she only packed the sliced fruit into a container and handed it to me. “Take this with you. Eat some on the way. Your stomach is weak. Don’t go hungry.” I took the container and said, “Thank you.” The words clearly startled Clara. I had never thanked her before. There had never been a need between us. But now, it seemed that only such polite words could put even a little distance between us. When I arrived at the office, my manager was about to leave. The moment he saw my pale face, he was startled. “Nora? Didn’t you just get back from Sicily?” “Yes.” I placed the documents on his desk. “The port line in Sicily is closed. I’ve sorted out the handover here. You mentioned before that Chicago was short on people. I’d like to apply for the transfer.” He froze. “Didn’t you keep refusing? I tried to persuade you for so long, but you said Vincent was in New York, Clara was in New York, and you didn’t want to be too far from home.” I lowered my eyes. “I’ve changed my mind.” He studied me for a while, then his expression slowly turned serious. “The Chicago project is long-term. At least three years. Once you go, you’ll be very busy. In the beginning, you may not even be able to come back often. Are you sure?” “I’m sure.” The moment I said it, something in my chest went hollow. My manager did not try to talk me out of it again. He only asked me to fill out the transfer request with HR and sent me the project files. “If you’ve really decided, there’s a flight tomorrow morning. Headquarters is rushing us, so you’ll need to finish the handover tonight.” “Okay.” I sat at my desk and organized the client information, project passwords, and contact lists one by one. With every word I typed, it felt as though I was peeling myself away from this city piece by piece. Chapter 4 Outside the window, the city lights had come on. On my phone, Vincent’s last message remained from two hours ago. Clara, however, had sent several more. 【Did you eat the fruit?】 【Are you coming home for dinner?】 【I made your favorite steak.】 I looked at the messages, and my eyes started to sting again. After forcing my emotions down for a long time, I finally replied: 【I’ll be back later.】 Before leaving the office, I booked a flight to Chicago for the next morning. My fingers trembled badly when the payment went through, but I did not cancel it. Some places hurt more the longer you stayed. When I walked out of the office building, I saw Vincent leaning against his car, smoking. Cigarette butts were scattered at his feet. The red glow of the cigarette lit up his face, and his brows were tightly drawn. In the five years we had been together, I had only seen him smoke twice. The first time was when we graduated from college. His parents had pressured him to go back to Virginia, while I wanted to stay in New York with Clara. Vincent had smoked one cigarette after another back then, just like he was doing now. In the end, he chose me. Now I did not dare to think about what choice he was making. Nor did I want to. When he saw me, he immediately put out the cigarette and walked over. “You just got back and they’re already making you work overtime. Your company is heartless.” His tone carried the familiar complaint, but I could no longer hear the old concern in it. I answered casually, “There was a lot to report.” He opened the passenger door for me. I bent down and got in, and a faint white rose scent drifted into my nose. I paused. It was the same scent Clara wore. I turned my head toward the gap beside the seat and saw a tube of lip balm stuck there. It was the brand I had given Clara last month. Vincent returned to the driver’s seat. When he saw the lip balm in my hand, his expression stiffened for a moment. The car was silent for two seconds. Then he smiled. “Your sister probably dropped it when she was in my car today. I’ll bring it back to her later.” I stared at the lip balm and asked softly, “Was she in your car often while I was gone?” His hand paused on the seat belt. Then he turned to look at me, something complicated in his eyes. Soon, he reached out as if to touch my head. “What, are you jealous of your own sister now?” I tilted away from his hand. His hand stopped in the air, and the smile on his face faded a little. “Nora, weren’t you the one who wanted me to get along with Clara? Sometimes she needed help, so I picked her up when it was convenient.” After a pause, he added, “If you don’t like it, I won’t let her ride in my car again.” It sounded like he was trying to make it up to me. But I could no longer tell whether he was comforting me or covering for himself. I closed my eyes. “I’m tired.” Vincent said nothing more. The car drove all the way home. Lights slid across my closed eyelids one after another, and I heard him try to speak several times, only to swallow the words back. When we got home, Clara had already set the table. Every dish was something I liked. Garlic butter ribs, red wine-braised beef, cream of mushroom soup, and a small dish of homemade pickles I had eaten since childhood. The moment she saw me, her eyes lit up. “You must be starving. Wash your hands and eat.” I sat in my old seat. Clara sat on my left, and Vincent sat on my right. For a moment, I almost felt as though we had gone back to the past. Everything was familiar, everything was safe. But reality reminded me that nothing could go back anymore. There were so many words stuck in my throat. I wanted to tell them that I had seen the Instagram post. I wanted to ask them why they had done this to me. But when the words reached my mouth, I did not dare to say them. The meal tasted like nothing. Then Clara lifted her wineglass, as if she had finally found a reason to break the silence. “To Nora coming home,” she said, and took a sip before forcing a small smile. “And to everything going smoothly for you from now on.” Her gaze moved to Vincent for a moment before returning to me. “Also, I hope you and Vincent set a wedding date soon.” Chapter 5 Vincent’s hand clearly paused. Clara set down her glass, as if she had finally made up her mind. “You’ve been together for five years. Nora isn’t that young anymore. I was too extreme before. I always thought he couldn’t be trusted, but now I’m not against it anymore.” Her voice tightened, “Tomorrow, the two of you should go look at rings. You should start choosing the dress too.” Vincent was silent for a few seconds before he forced a smile. “Why bring this up so suddenly?” “It’s not sudden.” Clara put down her glass, “You promised to give her a home.” Vincent avoided her gaze and drank a glass of wine. “The company’s financing is at a critical point right now. Let’s wait until this is over.” “No. Tomorrow.” Clara’s tone sharpened. Vincent looked up at her, his expression tense and restrained. Clara looked back at him, tears already gathering in her eyes. I set down my fork. “I’m full.” Clara immediately stood. “You barely ate anything. Are you feeling sick?” Vincent also looked at me, panic flashing through his eyes. If it had been before, I would have said everything I was feeling. I would have asked him why he had brought me the wrong flowers, why Clara’s perfume was in his car, and why he no longer looked at Clara like a future brother-in-law looking at his fiancée’s sister. But now I could not ask a single question. I was afraid to hear the answer. I was also afraid they would actually give me one. “I’m a little tired. I’m going upstairs to rest.” I turned and went upstairs, leaving a long silence behind me. Back in my room, I did not turn on the light. I only sat on the edge of the bed and looked out the window. My phone lit up and went dark again, over and over.? Clara asked if I wanted hot milk. Vincent sent one message too. 【You seem off today.】 I looked at those words and suddenly found them ridiculous. He had finally noticed that something was wrong with me, but he had not noticed that I was in so much pain I could barely hold myself together. At two in the morning, I heard the front door open softly downstairs.? I opened my eyes and listened closely as footsteps moved toward the yard. I got up, put on a coat, and followed them slowly. The night wind was cold. The lights along the lawn cast a dim yellow glow. Clara and Vincent stood under the trellis, very close to each other. Clara’s voice was low, but it still carried a sob. “Take her to look at rings tomorrow.” Vincent did not answer. “Vincent, did you hear me? You have to marry her.” “If you ask me to marry her now, I can’t do it. All I can think about is you.” That sentence drifted lightly into the night, yet it struck my heart like a knife. Clara covered her face and broke down. “What do you mean you can’t? You loved her for five years. You stayed in New York for her. You turned down so many chances for her, and now you’re telling me you can’t?” Vincent took a step forward and grabbed Clara’s arm. “I know I’ve wronged her, but all I can think about now is you.” Clara shoved him away. “Stop talking.” Her voice shook. “When mom and dad died, Nora was only seven. I raised her. I promised mom I would protect her for the rest of my life.” “I can suffer. I can be miserable. I can never see you again. But I cannot ruin her.” “She is my sister.” I stood in the dark, my nails digging into my palms, and countless images rose in my mind without warning. Thirteen-year-old Clara carrying me to the hospital when I had a fever. Seventeen-year-old Clara going to school during the day and working in a restaurant at night to pay my tuition. Twenty-year-old Clara rushing to school to protect me when someone bullied me, standing in front of me even as the other person’s parents scolded her until her face turned white. She had only been a young girl herself, yet she had forced herself to become an adult. So I could not rush out and confront her. I could not look into her eyes and ask why it had to be Vincent. Vincent’s voice sounded again. “Then I’ll tell Nora the truth. Put all the blame on me. If she wants to hate me or curse me, I’ll take it.” Clara cried harder. “Do you think she’ll only hate you? She’ll hate me too. And what scares her most is the thought of hating me.” I could not listen anymore. I turned and went back to my room.? My suitcase was still in the corner. I put my documents, laptop, and a few pieces of clothing inside one by one. When I was done, I sat at my desk and wrote a letter for Clara and Vincent with tears running down my face. There were things I did not dare say to them in person. When the sky was almost light, I dragged my suitcase out of that home.? When the plane rose into the clouds, I turned off my phone. Back in New York, Clara opened my bedroom door with breakfast in her hands, only to find an empty bed. She rushed to my desk in a few steps and opened the letter with trembling hands. The next second, the ceramic plate crashed to the floor, and Clara’s broken scream followed.