Chapter 3: The Weight of Promises

I was tired. Done making space for him.

He never did the same for me.

The realization stung, but it was freeing. I let the silence hang, then exhaled—like letting go of something heavy.

“You two go ahead and eat. We won’t bother you.” Without looking at Brandon, I pulled Mariah away.

Brandon came home really late that night. The apartment was quiet, the shadows longer than usual.

I was searching for thesis materials when I heard the door. Didn’t even look up. “You’re back?” I said flatly. Didn’t even look at him.

He replied with a quiet “Yeah,” then went to shower. I heard the water running, the clatter of his phone against the sink. The place felt emptier than ever, like even the walls were tired.

Afterwards, he sat not far from me, openly playing games on his phone. He looked bored, almost defiant.

I glanced at him—he was probably playing duos with Aubrey, talking on voice chat: “Need a weapon?” I could imagine the banter, the flirting. “Yeah, I’ll protect you.”

I said nothing. He never liked gaming. Only did it for other people. We’d argued about him playing games with other girls before.

At the time, he looked at me, raised his eyebrows, and asked, totally sincere, “It’s just a game, why are you so upset?”

I just stopped caring after that.

I turned away, didn’t say a word, and went out to make myself some mac and cheese. The box kind. Cheap, salty, comforting.

The kitchen was quiet except for the bubbling noodles. I stirred the pot, let the cheesy smell fill the air, tried to ground myself in something simple.

When I came back after eating, he’d finished his game. He looked at me, a little off, and asked, “Are you mad?”

He’s handsome, rich, with that arrogant, effortless vibe—a lot of girls go for it. Still, I could see right through him.

He might not even like Aubrey. He just likes that familiar look. Every girlfriend he finds has a shadow I recognize. Sometimes it’s the smile, sometimes the way she bows her head, sometimes her eyes, sometimes the dimple at the corner of her mouth…

Always her shadow. Always my sister.

Mariah once tried to talk me into leaving Brandon. She said he’d never learn to be loyal. I just smiled. Didn’t argue. It’s not that he can’t learn loyalty.

He’s loyal, alright. Just not to me. He’s loyal to a type. Everyone he chooses is that type.

Aubrey only showed up about a month ago. By Brandon standards, that’s practically a lifetime. She doesn’t really look like my sister, but she’s got that same quiet vibe.

I looked at him, even smiled a little. “No, it’s just an online game. Why would I be mad?”

I was too calm. He didn’t say anything. After a moment, he held up his phone, “Wanna play? Together?”

A long time ago, we used to play games together. I didn’t know what I was doing—just followed him around, picking up ammo, getting yelled at by teammates, sometimes called an idiot.

He never defended me in the game. Never needed to put on a show for me. Never protected me like he does for other girls now.

After he started playing with other girls, I just quit.

I smiled, shook my head. “No, I have a report to finish. You go ahead.”

I didn’t look at his face, just walked into the study. Closed the door behind me.

When I finished my work and went to the bedroom, he was already asleep. I stood at the door for a while, hesitated, but still didn’t go in. Instead, I sat on the living room sofa, hugging my knees, staring at the ceiling for a long time before sighing.

The glow from the streetlights slipped through the blinds, painting stripes across the carpet. I listened to the hum of the fridge, the distant car alarms. It all felt so far away.

I didn’t realize Brandon was standing in the doorway, watching me, until he spoke.

I didn’t know how long he’d been there.

He didn’t turn on the light. In the dimness, our faces were hidden. After a moment, he asked, “Are you unhappy?” Then added, “You don’t like Aubrey?”

His voice was calm, almost cold, with that casual indifference that let me know exactly where I stood.

“If you don’t like her, you won’t see her again.”

I was just so tired.

The problem was never Aubrey. There’d always be someone else.

Besides, there’s always a bright, clear moon hanging high in the sky.

That moon is my sister. Always her.