Chapter 3

Melody looked up at him. "Austin, don't blame Chloe. She must be feeling hurt. I would be too if I were in her shoes."

"Hurt?" Austin sneered, grabbing his jacket from the couch. "Why would she be hurt? We're still getting married, we're just pushing the date back."

"You only turn eighteen once in your life. Why is she keeping score with you over this?"

He patted Melody on the head, his voice instantly softening. "Come on, I'll take you out to dinner."

"What about Chloe?" Melody looked back at me.

"Leave her. She needs some time alone to cool her head."

Austin dragged Melody toward the door.

The door slammed shut behind them.

The apartment fell dead silent.

I sat back down on the sofa, looking around the place we had shared for the past two years.

The beanbag chair in the corner of the living room was bought by Melody because she said it was comfortable for gaming when she visited.

The anime figures on the TV stand belonged to Melody because she thought they looked cute there.

The refrigerator door was covered in Polaroid photos of Melody, smiling brightly.

I walked into the guest bedroom, which was originally supposed to be my home office.

I pushed the door open. The room was decorated completely differently from what I had planned.

The bed was covered in pastel pink sheets, the walls were lined with posters of her favorite bands, and the desk was cluttered with her makeup and trinkets.

I opened the closet. Her clothes took up two-thirds of the space—all expensive brand-name pieces that Austin had bought for her, some with the tags still on.

I looked at a designer hoodie. It cost $250. Austin had bought it because "Melody said she wanted it."

Meanwhile, last winter, I wanted to buy a $100 winter coat, and he told me it was too expensive and that I should wait for a clearance sale.

I walked back to the master bedroom, pulled out my suitcase, and started packing.

I folded my clothes one by one and packed them away neatly.

It didn't take long. In less than an hour, my entire life was packed into two suitcases.

The framed photo of us on the living room shelf stared back at me.

I hesitated for a second, then decided to leave it.

I pulled my house key out of my bag and placed it quietly on the shoe rack by the door.

My phone buzzed. It was a notification from the family Snapchat group. Austin had posted a photo of him and Melody at a high-end steakhouse downtown. The table was piled with expensive dishes.

I knew that restaurant. It cost at least $150 per person. I had wanted to go there for my birthday last year, but Austin said it was a waste of money and took me to a cheap diner instead.

In the group chat, his mother replied: "Spoiling your sister again! You’re such a good brother."

Austin sent back a smiley face.

Melody followed up with a long string of texts: "Austin is the absolute best! He ordered all my favorites! ❤️"

I didn't read any further. I locked my phone, slipped it into my pocket, and dragged my suitcases out the door.

I called an Uber and headed to the train station.

I bought a ticket on the way. It was a one-hour ride back to my hometown.

I sat on the cold metal bench in the waiting area, watching people rush past as the overhead speakers announced departures. My train was arriving in twenty minutes.

Suddenly, my screen lit up with Austin's caller ID.

I answered.

"Where are you?" his voice sounded confused, with the faint sound of Melody’s laughter in the background. "Why are your keys on the shoe rack?"

"I went home," I said calmly.

"Home? To your mom's place?" He sighed. "Well, that actually works out. Melody wanted to stay at our apartment for a few days to visit some friends anyway."

"It's good for you two to have some space. It’ll prevent any more stupid arguments."

He said it so casually, as if my leaving was just a convenient way to make room for his sister. As if it were a thoughtful arrangement.

"Austin," I said, my voice steady. "I'm never coming back. We're not getting married."