Betrayed by the Only Two I Loved

Chapter 2

Simon's POV:

I looked back at the screen. There was more to my brother's post.

After that, whenever anything happened at home, I couldn't stop myself from calling her. The more often we met, the more I realized she wasn't as unbearable as I had thought.

She waited for me after work, went shopping and to the movies with me, and even learned to make my favorite dishes. Just as she did with my brother, she remembered every little thing I liked and disliked.

One day, while we were sitting together, her phone lit up. Her lock screen was a photo of my brother. I looked away and asked, "Could you change it? Every time I see him, I feel despicable." She changed it almost immediately—to a photo of the sunset by the ocean that we took on one of our walks.

The photo she replaced had been the first one she ever took of me. I was standing outside the university auditorium, holding the sunflowers she had given me and squinting into the wind. She insisted I looked good.

"You're using a photo of me as your lock screen? Aren't you afraid your friends will laugh?" I teased.

She held up her phone proudly. "Let them look. My boyfriend is gorgeous. Why would I hide him?"

That photo had stayed there for five years.

When she visited me in Redmont the month before, I pointed at her phone. "Why did you change it?"

"My phone just updated. I wanted to try a new wallpaper," she replied casually, and I believed her.

A single request from my brother was all it took for her to replace a photo she had kept for five years.

A tear landed on the screen and blurred the next paragraph. I wiped it away and continued reading.

We went to a movie tonight. As the credits rolled, she suddenly turned to me and asked, "Philip, do you like me too?" I didn't answer. She looked at me and whispered, "I wish I'd met you first."

I lost control and kissed her. She didn't push me away.

I know I'm disgusting for falling for my brother's girlfriend, but I still want to see her. My brother comes home tomorrow. How am I supposed to face him?

My stomach cramped violently. I rushed into the bathroom and leaned over the sink, retching. Nothing came up. All I could do was gasp for breath again and again.

Why did it have to be my brother?

I was 8 and my brother, Philip Walker, was 13 when our parents died in an accident on the highway. Our godfather became our guardian and moved in with us. But most of the time, it was Philip who made my breakfast, checked my schoolbag, and got out of bed whenever he heard me crying at night.

He came to family day at school, drove me to baseball practice, and taught me how to tie a necktie. On the night of my senior prom, I was too nervous to fasten my cuffs. He stood in the doorway, laughing as he straightened my collar for me.

Other children called for Mom and Dad. I called for Philip.

When I brought Diana home, I wanted the two most important people in my life to meet each other.

And now, behind my back, he had kissed my girlfriend.

Gripping the edge of the sink, I slowly sank to the floor. I wanted to cry from the sheer hurt of it, but I couldn't make a sound. The post was attracting more and more attention, and the abuse in the comments kept piling up.

B: Your brother trusts you that much, and you kissed his girlfriend. Have you even thought about how devastated he'll be when he finds out?

C: You claim you're sorry while going on dates and kissing her. Stop using "I lost control" as an excuse.

D: And what about that woman? What did her boyfriend do to deserve this from the two of you?

Under every condemning comment, there was a reply from Diana.

Diana Kessler: He's already suffering more than anyone. None of you know what he's been through all these years.

Diana Kessler: Yes, I'm not a good person, but I can't stand by and watch you attack him like this.

Diana Kessler: If I had met him first, I would have chosen him.

I stared at that final sentence, my finger frozen over the screen. Back in college, someone had asked me out in front of her. She had smiled, taken my hand, and said, "Sorry, he's my boyfriend."

My eyes ached from staring. The last shred of hope inside me disappeared.

One minute earlier, my brother had posted another update.

Anonymous Post:

You're right. I don't deserve to be his brother. I'll cut off contact with her. I can't lose him.

The phone slipped from my hand and struck the tile floor. Only a few hours earlier, I had been labeling my suitcase, excited to finally go home. Now I didn't know how I could face either of them.

The lights outside my window burned all night, and I didn't sleep. I thought about canceling my flight, but if I stayed, I would only keep rereading those words. Near dawn, I picked up my phone, dragged my suitcase to the airport, and boarded my flight.