The day after I confessed my feelings to Patrick Huxley, he got engaged to someone else, Eva Caylor.

He comforted his fiancée, saying, "Georgia is just the orphaned daughter of my dad's friend. I've only ever seen her as a little sister."

To me, he said, "Your feelings only make things awkward. Please let me go."

Eventually, I respected his choice, changed my college plans, moved to Orlando, and never returned.

But later, at my wedding, he showed up crying, eyes red, begging me to leave with him.

"Why didn't you come yesterday?"

After looking for him all day, I finally found him outside a restaurant.

With swollen, tear-filled eyes, I glared at Patrick, my gaze full of anger and wounded pride.

Behind him, a crowd gathered, all peeking over his shoulder to get a look at me.

Someone whispered, "Is that Patrick's adopted sister?"

"Yeah, I heard she likes him. She tried to confess yesterday, but he didn't come. It was so embarrassing for her."

Patrick rubbed his temples, clearly annoyed. "You all go in first," he told them.

Soon, it was just the two of us there.

Seeing how puffy my eyes were, he asked the staff for an ice pack.

He then gently pressed it against my eyes.

"You're too grown-up to be crying like this," he said softly.

I pulled away and looked him straight in the eyes. I asked, "Why didn't you show up yesterday?"

"I..."

"Rick, there you are!"

A soft female voice cut him off.

She held onto his arm sweetly and gave me a curious look. "You must be Georgia. Rick talks about you all the time."

The moment I saw her, I felt completely humiliated.

She looked graceful and classy, and her bodycon dress showed off her curves perfectly.

In contrast, I had a short, tomboy hairstyle and was dressed in a plain white T-shirt with shorts.

My hands nervously tugged at the hem of my clothes.

She looked away, turned back to Patrick, and smiled. "Rick, the engagement party is about to start. You're the groom-to-be, you can't be late."

Patrick gently took her hand and gave her a warm smile. "I know, Eva. You go ahead. I'll join you in a bit."

Once she walked away, I just stared, stunned.

"You're getting engaged?"

Patrick seemed to relax a little and replied calmly, "Yeah, I am."

My eyes stung even more, the puffiness from crying only getting worse.

It took me a while before I finally spoke.

"Then what about me?"

He kept checking his watch like he was in a hurry, and said sharply, "How many times do I have to explain?

"I've always seen you as a younger sister. You crossed a line."

Tears caught in my throat as I struggled to speak. "But... you told me you like me."

"I was tipsy that night and messed up the numbers," he explained.

"Then why did you bring me to your side and chase away every guy who tried to get close to me?" I asked.

Patrick frowned, and a flicker of regret showed in his gaze. "If I had known you'd cling to me like this, I wouldn't have shown any sympathy."

"Sympathy?"

A faint smirk appeared on my lips.

While I chuckled, tears streamed down even faster.

I clutched the hem of his shirt, my tears soaking into his chest. "Can you really say you don't have any feelings for me?"

I stared straight into his eyes, hoping to catch some warmth in them.

But he only pushed my hands away, letting me fall hard onto the floor.

My knee got scraped by the edge of the table, and red blood trickled down my leg, leaving a red streak.

Patrick only looked at the part of his shirt I had crushed in my hand, his face tight with a frown.

"Not once," he said.

Patrick didn't come back home after he got engaged.

When I was just eight, my mother passed away because of brain cancer. My father was heartbroken and died not long after. Before he left, he asked Patrick's father to look after me.

The Huxley family is a big family with lots of kids. They did not need someone like me, an adopted girl who wasn't very smart or attractive and couldn't offer them anything valuable.

Patrick's father didn't have much power in the family, and though he tried to defend me several times, he couldn't stop the family from turning their backs on me.

The night they threw me out, it was pouring rain.

I had a small old travel bag that held everything I owned. My thin shirt kept getting blown around by the strong wind and rain.

I crouched down in the street, crying my eyes out. I felt like I was drowning in sadness and fear, with the weight of everything crushing me.

Then, out of nowhere, someone reached out a hand toward me.

"My house is empty. If you don't mind, would you like to stay with me for a while?"

Back then, I clung to him like he was my last hope.

But now, he's leaving me too.

Looking at the silent house, I felt like a piece of my heart had been ripped out and the pain wouldn't stop.

I held onto my phone and kept trying to call Patrick.

The busy signal kept ringing through the bathroom, and it made me feel more and more hopeless.

By the third day of not hearing from him, I thought I was going to lose my mind.

I waited outside his office, and whenever someone looked like him, I ran to check.

"Hey, are you crazy or what?"

The man shoved me aside and brushed off his clothes like I was something disgusting.

The people nearby stared at me with disgust, like they were judging me silently but harshly.

I lowered my head and kept saying sorry again and again.

Then, at last, I spotted someone I recognized coming down the stairs.

I ran straight to him and shouted, "Shawn!"

He stopped and turned, seeming to give in a little. "Georgia, I swear, I have no idea where Rick is."

I reached out my hand. "I don't believe you. He blocked me, give me your phone."

Shawn gripped his phone tightly, clearly unwilling. "No, Georgia. Just listen to me this once, please?"

I didn't want to hear it. I threw him over my shoulder and snatched the phone from his hand.

Because Shawn always forgets things, he never bothers setting a lock on his phone.

It only took a moment for me to pull up his chat with Patrick.

The newest message showed Patrick saying, "If Georgia asks you anything, don't let her know where I am."

Shawn replied, "But she's really upset. Are you seriously planning to leave her like this?"

Patrick replied, "I'll handle everything after she cools off."

My fingers shook as I opened his Instagram.

"The island's beauty doesn't compare to yours."

Right under the caption was a 3x3 photo collage of ocean pictures, but the center image is a photo of Patrick and Eva.

She wore a swimsuit and leaned into his chest, her face hidden in embarrassment. He looked down at her, smiling softly.

"Georgia, are you alright?"

Only then did I notice that tears had already started rolling down my cheeks.

When I saw the concern in Shawn's gaze, I quickly wiped my face and handed his phone back.

"I'm fine, thanks."

It wasn't until I'd walked quite a distance that I became aware of the pain.

It was a sharp, stabbing pain like my heart was being torn open and left full of empty spaces.

It looked like Shawn told Patrick what I had seen on his Instagram.

The following day, Patrick came to the house.

While I was standing halfway up the stairs, he glanced at me, walked over, picked me up, and gently placed me on the sofa.

He bent down on one knee, lifted my feet, and slipped them into a pair of pink slippers.

He let out a quiet sigh.

"If you hate wearing slippers that much, maybe I should just carpet the entire floor."

Longing consumed me from the inside out, and I couldn't stop myself from staring, trying to memorize every part of his face.

Honestly, it was hard not to admit that he was God's masterpiece.

His sharp jawline, defined eyebrows, tall nose, and narrow eyes gave him a cold, striking look, though they softened every time he looked at me.

I was hooked on the gentle looks he sometimes gave me, and the sweet fantasy he once made me believe.

But now, he was the one who tore that dream apart.

A wave of sorrow crashed into my chest and stuck there like a lump I couldn't swallow.

"Rick, was everything between us just my one-sided love?"

He slowly lifted his eyes, and the tiredness in them felt like a slap.

"Georgia Elsher, have you lost all sense of respect?

"I am your brother, just call me Patrick."

My mind wandered back to that stormy night. His loose jacket had wrapped tightly around me, shielding me from the rain, and he held my hand as we ran through the downpour.

That warmth from his touch had spread through me, slowly thawing my cold heart.

He crouched down in front of me, his eyes sparkling like stars. "I'm Patrick Huxley. From now on, I'll be your older brother. Georgia, let's look after each other."

At first, I really did see him as a brother. But once I started to develop feelings for him, I wasn't content just being like family. So, with his silent agreement, I began calling him by his personal nickname, Rick.

If he's taking that privilege back now, fine. I won't argue.

I looked down and blinked sharply, but still couldn't bring myself to say the word "Patrick".

"Never mind. Just don't do it again."

Patrick stood up and looked my way. "My fiancée really likes the design of this house. You need to leave soon. I've bought you an apartment in Hamilton Tower. You can stay there until college begins."

I froze in place. "What did you just say?"

And then a wave of overwhelming panic hit me.

"Rick, this is our home! You once promised no one would take it from us!"

Patrick yanked at his tie, clearly annoyed. "If you refuse to leave, I'll just get someone to move your stuff for you."

Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and headed for the door.

I jumped up to go after him, but tripped and landed hard. He didn't even turn around, not once, until his car vanished down the road.

"Rick! Don't go!

"You jerk..."

I dropped to my knees, tears soaking into my scraped palms. The sharp stones dug into my skin, making it hurt even more.

The next day, just like he said, a group of movers showed up at the house.

I stayed seated on the sofa, silently watching as they packed my belongings and carried them out.

Later, two interior decorators arrived and announced, "Ms. Caylor doesn't like this style. She wants a full makeover."

Every item in that house, from the sofa to the vase of flowers, had been handpicked and arranged by me.

To me, this place was more than a house. It was my second home.

Now I have nowhere to call home, and the only person I cared about has turned his back on me.

I was alone again.

I stood in the hallway for what felt like forever, completely alone.

My knee throbbed with pain.

I stared at the unfamiliar place in front of me, my heart felt empty.

At that moment, every hope, every attachment I had faded away.

Gone without a trace.

"Rick, I'm done with you," I said inwardly.

I changed my mind right before the deadline for the application.

I ended up going to Orlando, far away from Seattle.

During the rest of my time in Seattle, it felt like I became that quiet and well-behaved sister again.

Patrick took me off his block list and sometimes messaged me just to check-in.

Sometimes, he'd even bring Eva along to visit.

When Eva saw the place Patrick had gotten for me, she said with a sour tone, "It must be nice to be your sister, Rick. An apartment in the city center? And she's not even your biological sister."

Patrick gently pinched her cheek and smiled. "Are you feeling jealous?

"Don't worry. What's mine is also yours. No need to compare."

Eva looked very happy after hearing that. Her cheeks turned red, and she stood on tiptoe to give Patrick a kiss on the edge of his lips.

He smiled even more and wrapped his arm around her waist before saying goodbye in a hurry.

As I turned away, I noticed she had dropped her bag. I went after her to return it, only to catch them kissing deeply near the elevator.

It still hurt. A bitter feeling kept rising in my chest, making my heart ache.

I ran off in a panic.

A long time passed before my phone buzzed again.

There was a text from a number I didn't recognize.

"A sister should know her place and not want what isn't hers."

The following day, Patrick came by himself to pick up the bag Eva had left behind.

I gave it to him quietly, my head lowered. I couldn't bring myself to look at him.

I didn't want him to notice my puffy eyes. But a small part of me wished he would.

Patrick didn't stay long. After getting what he came for, he seemed like he wanted to say something but held back.

In the end, he said, "Eva's birthday is coming up. You should join us."

I forced a big grin and replied, "Sure, I'll be there."

I probably looked terrible at that moment.

Patrick looked surprised for a second but didn't say anything. Then he left in his car.

Not long after I got home, my phone pinged with a message from my banking app, a big amount of money had just come in.

I didn't react right away. Instead, I opened our chat.

"Thanks, Patrick," I typed.

It took a while before he replied, "Mm."

The birthday party Patrick planned for Eva was really fancy.

He invited all his key business contacts and friends to make the night special for her.

Patrick hugged Eva, who was dressed up beautifully, and easily mingled with the crowd full of status and wealth.

She looked stunning tonight and caught attention wherever she went.

"Mr. Huxley, this is your fiancée, right? She's gorgeous. You two look amazing together," someone said.

I stood a little way off, still in my simple outfit, holding a glass of champagne.

I tried to copy their movements and took a polite sip, but the next moment my whole face scrunched up from the taste.

"Ugh, how can anyone drink something that tastes this awful?"

Out of nowhere, someone handed me a tissue. I wiped my lips and muttered, "Thanks."

"No problem."

I turned toward the voice and was met with a strikingly good-looking face.

His hair was a flashy golden color, and beneath his bold brows rested a pair of alluring, foxlike eyes, brimming with charm. His lips, a deep crimson, curled with a hint of teasing amusement.

"It's been a while, Georgia."

"Jacob!" I said, shocked.

Seeing the surprise on my face clearly made Jacob happy. He flicked his hair coolly and held out his arms to me.

"If you don't like it, don't force yourself," he said in a relaxed voice.

"Come on, let's go have some fun."

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Patrick walking toward me.

He didn't look so happy. His face was tight, and his eyebrows were drawn together like he was mad.

"Georgia!"

I quickly looked away and gently placed my hand in the warm, dry hand of the other boy.

My eyes lit up with enthusiasm, clearly ready to give it a shot.

"Let's go."