(Back to the present day)

Ethan's POV

"I shouldn't have hoped for anything from you. Tsk."

“Stop excluding me from this matter ‘big brother’."

The weight of disappointment settled in my chest. Her words felt like sharp knives, cutting through not just the air but also the fragile hope I had harbored. I still vividly remember the look in her eyes, a mixture of hurt and defiance that etched itself into my memory, leaving me with an uneasy sense of remorse.

Where did everything go wrong? Every effort I've made has been for the benefit of this household. But amidst it all, one crucial thing I need to ensure is that this matter doesn't truly drive us apart.

Knock Knock

"Who is it?" she asked from the other side of the door.

"It's me, your brother," I replied.

SILENCE

Each passing second of silence felt like a heavy weight on my chest, intensifying the ache in my heart. The stillness seemed to stretch into an eternity, and with every moment that ticked away, I could feel my confidence crumbling.

"Talk. What do you want? Do you want to fight again?" she asked. The sound of her voice carried through the door, creating a sense of proximity that only heightened the emotional tension. The strained words mirrored the strained relationship between us, and I couldn't help but feel a deep sense of longing for understanding and connection.

I took a deep breath as if I wanted to remove the heavy feeling that I have.

“I-Im sorry.” I stuttered almost choking on my own saliva.

SILENCE

Anxiety wrapped around me as I awaited her response, the quiet amplifying the heaviness in my chest.

"What are you sorry for?"

“I am sorry for pushing you into a situation where you had to mend things with someone who didn't deserve you. I am sorry for neglecting your feelings and opinions.”

Each word felt like an admission of my own shortcomings, an acknowledgment of the pain I had unknowingly caused her.

"I am sorry for not being a reliable older brother," a hint of pain evident in my voice.

As the eldest, my intention was to pave the way for my younger sibling. I wanted her to relish experiences I couldn't, burden-free. I aspired to shoulder all the weight on her behalf, but, in the end, I failed.

In the end, I unwittingly compounded her troubles by urging her to remain with someone who had already shattered her heart.

"I am sorry for being your brother—" I began, my voice laden with regret, but before I could conclude my sentence, the door swung open, revealing Roselle with a noticeable frown on her face.

"Hey, hey. Don't go that far!" she called me out, her interruption holding a mix of frustration and concern. Her presence in the doorway added a palpable tension to the already charged atmosphere, and I found myself caught between the weight of my apology and the uncertainty of her reaction.

She glared at me but eventually allowed me to enter her room, guiding me to the sofa inside.

As I sat across from her, I couldn't meet her eyes, lowering my head because I felt lost for words.

I desired a conversation about everything that had transpired, seeking mutual understanding. Yet, a reluctance to share my own feelings held me back. Was this the pride of an eldest child?

I hesitated to lay bare all my emotions before my younger sibling. It felt as though revealing my innermost feelings would also lay bare the very foundations that upheld me, exposing everything that defined who I am.

But if I don't open up, I fear our relationship will bear a lasting scar. I yearn for something deeper than the distant connection shared by siblings who merely carry the same last name. I want us to navigate our individual paths in life while preserving the acknowledgment that we are more than just individuals inhabiting the same childhood home. I'm afraid that without this emotional exchange, we might become strangers, detached and disconnected, forever missing the chance to truly understand and appreciate each other. The weight of this possibility adds an extra layer of heaviness to my already burdened heart.

"Stop thinking too much and just spill it. I'll listen."

I lifted my head and met her eyes. Although I tried to speak, the strength to let my voice out eluded me, and I bowed my head again in defeat.

Sigh.

A heavy sigh escaped her lips.

A cold finger then pressed on my forehead, urging me to lift my head. I realized that she was now sitting beside me.

The tip of her finger was cold. Did she feel uncomfortable and perhaps nervous too?

I met her eyes and saw that she was examining my face, trying to understand the expressions and emotions conveyed through my eyes.

"Hhmmm. I am all ears.”

I nodded in surprise, taken aback by how assertive she appeared.

It became clear to me that I knew very little about my sister. Despite the occasional exchange of letters, our understanding of each other barely scratched the surface.

Reflecting on our past, I recalled a time when she freely expressed her thoughts as a child. However, growing older led both of us to conform, adapting ourselves to societal standards.

With her memory loss, she seemed to have forgotten her past ability to effortlessly navigate those societal expectations.

"You're overthinking again," she frowned.

"I-I'm just sorry," I managed to say.

"You know what? This feels like déjà vu," she said.

"But can you tell me why you were so against the thought of breaking up with that good-for-nothing jerk?" Her words caught me off guard, as I struggled to adjust to this more direct side of Roselle, which I hadn't known she had.

I pondered her question for a moment.

"This feels like our roles have been a little switched up. It feels like I'm confiding in my older sister, which I don't have," I admitted sheepishly.

"Well, now that we're on that topic, call me Noona," she said. (is used to call an older sister or female friend; used by younger male)

"Ah, is this a word from that language you recently learned?" I asked, intrigued.

"Sort of," she shrugged, and I chuckled, feeling the heavy atmosphere from before casually lifting.

"Okay, noona. I was furious too with what he did, but I couldn't act recklessly because it's not just your future at stake; the future of this whole household would be determined by my actions. I needed to buy time to lessen the damage this household would face," I explained, laying all my cards on the table.

"As you know, the Beaumonts and the Fritzroys have always been closely connected. But now that the head of the Beaumont household has been granted the title of marquis, we can't afford to offend them carelessly."

"Young Lord Sebastian has always been known as a faithful and loyal admirer of yours, so it wouldn't make sense for him to cheat and betray you. The situation could backfire against you and our family," I continued.

Her smile finally emerged, a smile of relief and a mixture of amazement.

"Wow, you thought that far ahead amidst the heat of the moment. And you're here telling me all of this. Does this mean the situation is handled?" she asked.

"You'll be hearing good news any day now," I affirmed, because all the necessary preparations had been secured. Of course, I received a lot of help from his highness, for which I'm thankful.

She grinned.

"Hmm. If it's not too much to ask, can you write your apology to me again on a piece of paper?" she requested, pointing me to her study table.

I complied without hesitation, recognizing that Roselle was no longer the young girl who relied on her older brother for every decision. It was clear she had grown into her own person, with her own thoughts and feelings. I respected her independence and understood the importance of this gesture in rebuilding our relationship.

The notebook she laid out had a title, 'To the Happy-Ever-After Roselle,' which struck a chord within me. It symbolized our shared desire for a brighter future, one where forgiveness and understanding prevailed.

As I flipped to a blank page, I felt a surge of emotions wash over me. With each stroke of the pen, I poured out my innermost thoughts, expressing my heartfelt apologies and genuine concerns. I didn't hold back, sharing my hopes and aspirations for both of our individual paths ahead. This simple act of writing felt like a step towards reconciliation, a bridge to mend the rift that had formed between us.

***

Kim Aera's POV

"Wow, I didn't know Ethan had so much to say that he filled ten pages," I said as I looked through my notebook.

I decided to leave something for Roselle, like a diary. I wrote down book recommendations, business tips, and even where to find tasty desserts. I wanted to make sure she had everything she needed.

I grabbed the case I hid earlier to keep it away from Ethan.

I gathered all the things I needed, especially the gun, just in case.

Now that I knew Ethan would be making a move,

Let's see what he has up his sleeve. If his plan isn't enough, I have plenty of trouble waiting for Sebastian.

"And I'll be seating at the front seat to watch him fall."