He Mocked My Birth, I Married a New Man

I had been engaged to my brother's best friend, Donovan Hayes, for years, yet he never brought up marriage. Not until I overheard him joking with a friend, "The daughter of a mistress is meant to stay a mistress. After I go through with this marriage alliance, I'll just stash her somewhere outside the family." I didn't barge in to confront him. Instead, I turned and went to the cemetery. There lay my older brother's ashes. Later, the day after Donovan left for another city for training, I went to the Hayes estate to break off the engagement. Donovan called me on the phone when he found out I wasn't at home. "Where are you?" I glanced at the man beside me and answered truthfully, "I'm in the city hall, and I'm getting my marriage license." On the morning of my brother Gideon Collins's death anniversary, I went straight to the restaurant and ordered his favorite specialty, the pit-roasted chicken. While I was waiting, I headed to the restroom and ran into someone I hadn't expected. Through the gap in a private room door, I caught a glimpse of Donovan, and I froze on the spot. The waiter reacted quickly and asked, "Miss Collins, Mr. Hayes is still catching up with his friends. Are you going in?" I shook my head without a second thought. Today was a special day, and Donovan didn't like seeing me anyway and I didn't want to be a disturbance. As I was about to leave, Donovan's friend's voice drifted out like a ghost. "Hey. Despite everything, Gideon died saving you. His dying wish was for you to marry his sister Serephina. Dragging your feet on a marriage like this is pretty unreasonable. When are you going to marry her?" It was such a taboo subject. The private room fell noticeably silent all of a sudden. I frozed outside the door when Donovan's answer rang loud and clear in my ears. "The daughter of a mistress is meant to stay a mistress. After I go through with this marriage alliance, I'll just stash her somewhere outside the family. Saving my life for a marriage? Hell no." I just stood there, dazed, unable to process what I'd heard for a moment, pressing a hand to the blood on my forehead. The waiter exclaimed, "Miss Collins, are you alright? Let me help you up!" Snapping back to reality, I hurried away with the waiter's help, desperate to avoid any chance of running into Donovan. It's fair to say I looked pretty pathetic at that moment. The moment my figure disappeared around the corner, the private room door slid open. It could be seen that Donovan frowned slightly, standing right there in the empty hallway, while his friends laughed, teasing him. "Man, hearing that surname really seems to piss you off. Still refusing that marriage bond?" I ducked into the bathroom. When I saw the gash on my forehead, tears welled up and spilled over. Seven years ago, my brother had a wound just like that on his forehead before he went to save Donovan at my pleading. That year marked the third year I'd had a crush on Donovan, and the tenth year Gideon and I had depended on each other. He was my older brother, but treated me almost like a daughter. He always knew I had feelings for his friend Donovan. So when he learned that Donovan, who couldn't swim, had been swept away by the floodwaters, he dove into the current at my desperate plea. I'd disinfected the wound on Gideon's face right before he left and put several bandages over it, in the thought that it might leave a scar on his face. It turned out his face hadn't scarred, because before that wound could heal into one, he'd drowned in the flood. Over the years, I have been haunted by the same relentless thoughts on countless nights: if I hadn't begged my brother to save that man, would he still be alive? I apologized so many times that I could't count in my heart, thinking that if only I could trade my life for my brother's, if only time could turn back. But no matter how many times I went to church, no god could hear my prayers. My dead brother can only stay forever in that cold cemetery. But what happened, happened. All I could do was cling to the identity my brother bought with his life, Donovan's fiancée. I thought that over seven years of being together, Donovan might have developed at least a little love for me, beyond just gratitude. But it was not until today that I finally understood how he'd always seen me and my brother. I could take it if he thought lowly of me. But it was too much that he insulted a mother who'd been tricked into becoming a mistress and died of depression, and disrespected my brother, who raised me and gave his life saving the other man. With all of this sinking in, I knew it was time to let go. My brother loved me, which is why he was willing to risk his life in the flood to save Donovan. Because of my brother's death, I became obsessed with the identity of being Donovan's fiancée, not wanting my brother to have died in vain. So for seven years, I humbled myself before him, hoping he would marry me. Now that he thought so little of me, of my brother and my mother, there's no point in me clinging to him anymore. Without any more grief, I took the pit-roasted chicken to the cemetery. The emotions I had forced myself to suppress finally erupted at that moment. I clung to my brother's headstone and cried for a long, long time before I finally left.