Thirteen Years Of His Lies

al. He didn't seem to have fully registered them, his mind still reeling from the events of the l

It was Kendal' s voice, sharp wi

sickening thud, and a series o

ntirely focused on Kendal. He was gone, abandoning me in the dust and shad

ne buzzed in my hand. A message from an unknown numb

kiss moments earlier. Beneath it, a caption: "He' s mine, Averi. Always has been. Always wil

isted game, and I had been a pawn. The photo, a final, definitive stab to the heart. It confirmed

t crying. There were no more tears left to shed. Just a profound, aching emptiness. I wa

esolate warehouse, I saw Brandon huddled over Kendal on the pavement, paramedics already arriving

ot just my clothes, but my life, my dreams, my very identity. Each item I placed in the suitcase was a step towards severing the ties that bound me to Brandon and his suffocating fami

dutiful brother, the concerned caretaker. The next morning, I received a text from him: "Ken

nd I was tired of listening to his explanations, his

andon. I opened it, my face impassive. He stood there, disheveled, his eyes red-rimmed a

anded, his voice raspy with exhaustion and

I replied, my voi

ment, the open suitcases. A flicker of alarm ignited i

hing his face, devoid of emotio

, a strained, hollow sound. "Are you upset about Kendal? I told you, she' s fine. Just a little acci

hing he could smooth over with empty promises and placating words. His inability to comp

stated, ignoring his pleas. "

t? Averi, what are you saying? You can' t just... leave. We' re getting marri

cord, repeating the same li

t up to you. I' ll throw you the most lavish engagement party you' ve ever seen t

my lips. "There won't be an engagement par

. "A goodbye party?

al, bitter invitation. "For old times

ought this was some convoluted way for me to forgive him, to return to him. He was so utterl

akin to sadness stirred within me. This was our old college haunt, a place filled wi

ankle now heavily bandaged, a crutch leaning against the dashboard.

I asked, my voice c

d on coming. Said she needed to support me. You know how she gets." He

e. "I see. A sprain, you said?" My voice was unnerving

y lack of reaction, my detached demeanor. He had expected tears, anger

liar faces washing over us. Our college friends, a

houted, raising a glass. "It' s about

re the definition of true love!

ption and my grim reality. Brandon forced a smile, his arm tightening around

her crutch. "Still waiting for that official announcement from the Sco

lay along. "Soon, Ken. Very soon. We' ll be married. I promise." His ey

d out a small, sealed box we had buried in our colleg

dream of becoming a successful artist, which she now was. Then came

. His wish, written in his youthful scrawl, read:

he group. Brandon beamed, squee

hed tin box. My wish, written with the hopeful naivete of a girl

e simplicity of my wish, now so far from m

ed her box. Her wish, scrawled in an overly dramatic hand, read: "To

sessiveness, the thinly veiled jealousy, hung hea

ce, "It seems my wish has already come true, hasn' t

r faces registered disgust, embarrassment, and a growing understanding. Ken

ith alcohol and indignation. "You know what, Kendal? You' re a terrible person! Always messing w

shed Lucas back, shielding Kendal with his body. "Get away from

round Kendal' s waist, pulling her close. His eyes, blazi

a possessiveness that chilled me to the bone. "And she is

. Not me. Never me. My heart, already shattered