Chapter 2

2: 2

2

Hazel's brow furrowed.

A flicker of displeasure crossed her eyes.

"That little brat Chester has no filter. He'll say anything."

"That card is just the one I use for spending money. I was only messing around with him. It's not the one where we save our wedding fund. Why would you take it seriously?"

I didn't press her. There was no point.

Because I wanted, more than anyone, for the card she'd given Chester not to be that particular bank card.

Maybe Hazel had forgotten, when she handed it over.

When we opened that account, it was linked to my phone number.

Six months ago, once that card reached five hundred thousand, it had never been touched again.

But three minutes ago, a transaction alert had suddenly popped up on my phone.

A charge of thirty thousand. A Cartier watch.

And a moment later, that very brand of watch showed up in Chester's social media posts.

"A thirty-thousand Cartier watch, ordered on the spot! Birthday gift from Hazel. She spoils me more than my own sister ever did!"

How badly I wanted to throw that post and that transaction alert right in Hazel's face.

But I didn't.

Every fight we'd ever had over her favoritism ended the same way, badly, with nothing resolved.

Seeing that I stayed quiet, Hazel seemed to grow irritated.

"Zane, we've been together all these years. You still don't trust me?"

She sighed, her voice softening a little.

"You're the only one in my heart. Chester's just my little brother. You really want to make a thing of this over one card? Is it worth it?"

She reached out to take my hand. I stepped back half a pace and let it pass.

"I'm not making a thing of it," I said. "Hazel, I'm just tired."

She leaned in, still wanting to say something, when a voice came from behind her.

"Hazel!"

"I can't get my jeans zipped up. Come help me!"

"Coming!"

Hazel answered in the brightest, breeziest tone.

But when she turned back to me, a trace of impatience slipped into her voice.

"See that? It's your brother who needs me."

"All right, get some rest, and stop overthinking. I'm going to go help Chester. He's like a little fool, can't manage a single thing on his own."

As Hazel turned and walked out,

I saw it clearly, that indulgent little smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

The bedroom door slammed shut.

It landed like a dull hammer against my chest.

I sat on the edge of the bed, watching the dusk deepen outside the window, my fingers slowly tightening around the phone.

Even through the wall, I could catch the faint drift of their conversation.

"Hazel, I heard you lie to my brother. You clearly saved up the whole five hundred thousand. Why did you tell him you hadn't yet?"

Chester asked, all innocence.

"If he found out you gave me the entire bank card, wouldn't he be furious?"

Hazel laughed, indulgent.

"I don't want to get married so soon."

"Besides, if I actually married Zane, I'd be your sister-in-law. Could you still hang all over me the way you do now?"

"You little fool."

I leaned back against the door, tears sliding down, and let my body slide heavily to the floor.

Just then, my phone rang again.

It was a confirmation email from the company.

"Mr. Sullivan, are you certain you agree to the overseas transfer to Australia? This assignment runs a minimum of five years and as long as ten. Please consider carefully before replying."

Three minutes ago, I'd still been wavering.

But now, the last scrap of hesitation left in me was swept clean away, like a bit of ash on the wind.

I pressed confirm.

The company had sent the notice last month, that eligible employees could apply.

At the time I'd scrolled right past it without a second thought.

Hazel's career was on the rise. At the rate she was saving, she'd have the full five hundred thousand by the end of the year.

Our wedding would fall naturally into place, set for next spring.

We'd already found the house. Everything was moving forward, step by step.

I couldn't leave. I shouldn't leave.

But it wasn't until yesterday that I learned she'd had that five-hundred-thousand wedding fund saved long ago, and had simply never intended to use it for our wedding.

She'd even lied that the money wasn't there yet, just to keep pushing the wedding back, again and again.

The phone buzzed. A reply from HR:

"Zane, your application has been approved. The transfer is tentatively set for one week from now. Details to follow by email. Please prepare accordingly."

From the living room came Chester's laughter, bright as a little bell.

Mixed in with it, my mother's doting scolding.

"You silly boy, making Hazel spend her money again."

And then Hazel's warm, gentle voice: "Don't say that, Auntie. What's a little money spent on Chester? It's only right."

She was right. Anything spent on Chester was only right.

But one cent spent on me seemed to cost her her life.

Last year, on my birthday, she worked until ten at night and came home empty-handed, saying the cake shops were all closed by the time she was on her way, she'd make it up another day.

That "another day" still hasn't come.

And last month, Chester mentioned offhand that he wanted a trendy iced latte from some place.

The next morning she drove halfway across the city to get it, and it was still warm when she came back.

The little rituals, the care, all the things I'd waited and hoped to come home to.

She gave every last bit of it to Chester, holding nothing back.

In that case, I don't want any of it anymore.