Chapter 4

On Ethan's birthday, I bought him the limited-edition watch he had drooled over for months.

The very next day, he wore it to an "accidental" run-in with Chloe, deliberately letting her slip into the corner of his selfie at a coffee shop.

When the three of us went to the movies, he snapped a photo under the armrest: his fingers tightly intertwined with Chloe's.

The night Chloe said yes to my proposal, Ethan posted a long, agonizing letter pouring out his heartbreak and resentment.

[Tonight, I need an answer,] he wrote. [If she loves me too, we shouldn't let each other slip away.]

And he got what he wanted.

That night, when he kissed her, Chloe didn't pull away.

They agreed to take one last wild vacation together before the wedding. That was why Chloe told me she had a week-long business trip.

Nausea surged up my throat.

What late-night overtime? What corporate conferences? It was all just cover for their romantic getaway.

Over those seven days, Ethan posted dozens of short reels.

He claimed he wanted to rewrite every memory Chloe and I ever had, flooding her future with his presence.

Like a masochist, I scrolled through every single post. From restaurants to luxury suites, from scenic ferries to hiking trails—the scenery was everything Chloe and I had planned, but the man beside her wasn't me.

As I watched, the suffocating agony slowly turned numb, until finally, it felt absurd.

When your heart truly dies, even hatred feels like a waste of energy.

As the first light of dawn broke through the window, my mind cleared.

The wedding had to be canceled.

I opened my laptop and began drafting an email to our guests.

With every key I pressed, a dull ache radiated through my chest.

Ten years of romance, twenty years of brotherhood, erased in a single morning.

Before I could hit send, my phone rang. It was Ethan.

"Liam? Why are you calling this early?" His voice sounded bright, effortless. "You're gonna be the most handsome groom today, man. You can't be pulling all-nighters."

I parted my lips, but no sound came out.

Noticing my silence, his tone turned gentle and concerned. "Liam? You okay? Are you just nervous before the big day?"

"Where's Chloe? Why isn't she keeping you company? Is she buried in work again and ignoring your calls?"

"Seriously, I swear that girl has her priorities backward. If you guys weren't getting married in a few hours, I’d call her right now and chew her out for you!"

What a sick joke.

Only hours ago, he had posted that melodramatic farewell on Instagram, yet here he was, comforting me like nothing had happened.

"N-No, I'm fine," I finally forced out. "Just... nervous. I suddenly wanted to hear your voice."

"...You idiot," he chuckled softly. "Don't worry. Today is going to be perfect, I promise."

"Right now, all you need to do is get some sleep. I've got everything else covered."

Suddenly, a muffled gasp came from his end of the line. It was Chloe's voice.

Swallowing the burning lump in my throat, I asked, "Ethan, is there anything you're keeping from me?"

The line went dead silent for a beat before he laughed nervously. "What are you talking about, Liam? What's gotten into you?"

"Put me on speaker," I said.

Ethan hesitated, but I heard the click of the speakerphone.

"Ethan. Chloe."

My voice was calm, steady, and clear. "I'm calling off the wedding."

"I hope you two are very happy together."