He Only Saw His Stepsister

Chapter 5

I clutched the cardboard box tight to my chest and took the elevator downstairs.

Once I stepped through the building's main doors, bright, warm sunlight flooded over me.

I drew in a deep, steady breath.

Who would've thought Ashbrook actually got sunshine in spring?

I just never saw it before, because I'd spent so long standing in someone else's shadow.

When I got back to my place, I yanked open my closet and started packing my bags.

My phone pinged with a new message.

It was from an unknown number.

I tapped the notification open and found a photo.

It was shot from a hospital ward window, with the night skyline of Ashbrook stretching out beyond the glass.

The caption read: Olivia, Daniel said his back is hurting, so I'm staying here to take care of him tonight. Don't worry, I'll look after him well.

Of course, it was Lily.

Another new number, just like always.

Another hotel, another overnight stay, another round of care taking, the same pattern all over again.

I set my phone down and went back to folding my clothes.

When I was reaching for clothes in my bottom drawer, my fingers brushed against an old envelope tucked at the back.

I pulled it open and found a drawing inside.

The paper had yellowed with age, and it was a sketch of the old apartment building I grew up in.

Daniel drew it fourteen years ago.

It was a good drawing, no question.

The lines were clean and steady, the light and shadow perfectly placed.

But no matter how good it was, it was still just a memory from fourteen years ago.

I ripped the drawing clean in half and tossed the pieces straight into the trash can.

After I booked my plane ticket to Brynfield, I called my dad.

"Dad, I'm leaving."

"Going where?"

"Brynfield. I want to open a little bakery there."

Silence stretched over the line for a moment.

"Does Daniel know?"

"No. And it doesn't matter any more anyway."

Another beat of quiet from my dad's end.

"Honey, Dad's sorry."

"Dad, you have nothing to be sorry for."

"If I hadn't married your stepmother, Lily never would've had this opportunity."

"Dad," I cut him off gently, "This isn't Lily's fault."

"Then whose fault is it?"

"It's mine. I never should have loved someone who didn't love me back for this long."

At the other end of the line, dad let out a long, heavy sigh.

"Go then. I support you, no matter what.

"Your mom always wanted to go to Brynfield, back in the day."

"I heard you tell me that when I was little."

"She loved flowers, loved the idea of a slower, quieter life. I kept promising I'd take her, but I never got around to it."

"Dad, I'll go for mom."

After I hung up, I set my phone down on the nightstand.

Outside my window, the sky had already turned completely dark.

Ashbrook's nights are blindingly bright, with thousands of lights crammed shoulder-to-shoulder across the skyline.

I used to think all those lights were so beautiful.

Now I see they're just lights, that's all.

They can never warm a heart that's been cold for far too long.

Early the next morning, I hauled my suitcase out the door.

When I walked past Lily's room, I saw her door was standing open.

Her bed was made crisp and neat.

Resting on her nightstand was a man's jacket, Daniel's jacket.

A corner of a hotel key card peeked out from one of the pockets.

The name of the hotel was printed right on the card.

It was the same one she'd told me about before, the one where she booked a room for him to rest.

I tore my gaze away from the doorway and pulled the door shut softly behind me.

My taxi was already idling at the curb downstairs.

The driver helped me stow my suitcase in the trunk, and I slid into the backseat.

We drove past the intersection that leads to Daniel's neighborhood.

I never turned my head to look.

We reached the airport. I checked in for my flight, grabbed my boarding pass, and cleared security.

While I waited at the gate, my phone buzzed over and over in my pocket.

Another unknown number.

I didn't need to look at the screen to know exactly who it was from.

I just powered the phone off completely.

A moment later, the boarding announcement blared over the speakers.

I stood up, slung my bag over my shoulder, and walked down the jet bridge.

When the plane lifted off the runway, the city outside my window got smaller and smaller.

All those buildings, all those streets, every place that ever hurt me.

They blurred into tiny pinpricks against the sky.

One by one, they vanished completely.

I closed my eyes.

Suddenly, a line I'd heard years ago popped into my head.

It was something a professor said back when I was in college.

He told us: "The most important thing about a building isn't how it looks. It's the structure. If the structure is wrong, it'll collapse no matter how pretty it is."

It's the same with relationships.

If the structure is wrong, it can never hold up for long.

Our foundation, Daniel's and mine, was wrong from the very beginning.

He was the pillar, the load-bearing beam that held everything up.

And I was just the decorative veneer glued to his outer wall.

We looked like we belonged together, but one good gust of wind would blow me right off.

Well, that wind finally blew.

And it was time for me to leave.