( I was on my bed, but sleep was nowhere near. I tossed and turned, kept wide awake by one consuming worry: Rylan hadn't come home after our fight this morning. At dinner, his dad, had repeatedly asked the maid if Rylan was back, only to be told no).
(Richard looked visibly frustrated, and I—I didn't know why I was worried about Rylan).
Why wasn't he answering his father's calls?
(Sleep was out of the question. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, waiting).
(The clock ticked past midnight; it was 12:30 AM when I finally heard it—the distinctive sound of his car pulling up the drive).
(I bolted out of bed. I quickly opened my door and hurried downstairs towards the main entrance. I stood there, watching him close the door behind him. I scanned him from head to toe, checking for any sign of injury or distress).
"Are you okay?" The words escaped before I could stop them.
(He froze, staring at me. Even from a distance, the smell of alcohol was faint but discernible. His eyes were disoriented, and his usually perfectly styled hair was disheveled. It was undeniable: he was drunk).
I walked closer, stopping a safe distance away. "Are you drunk? You came home after drinking?"
(He let out a short, hollow chuckle. My heart stopped at the sound—a mix of bitterness and pain—followed by the sight of his clenched jaw).
"W-what happened?" he slurred, taking a slow step toward me. He didn't come too close, but I could feel the heat of his breath on my face.
"You know what happened, step-sister?" he continued, his voice low and wounded. "For the first time, my dad shouted at me like that. And you know why? Because I talked back to you."His voice broke slightly. "He loves me so much, but since you and your mom came into his life and mine, my dad has changed so much. He even forgot about my mom, damn it!"
(He stumbled back a step, running a frustrated hand through his hair).
"Don't look at me like that! Don't think I haven't noticed. You are taking my dad away from me! I don't hate your mom. I can see she takes care of my dad. I don't hate her, but you... you are taking my place! You're taking it all! You always ruin people's lives!"
He chuckled again, a desperate, tear-filled sound. "Now, where are you? Standing right here in my damned house! What do you think? I don't see that my dad is putting you above me? Damn it!"
(His words were like blades. I knew they were fueled by alcohol and desperation, but they stung deep. I was simply a mirror reflecting back all the things he was losing—his father's undivided attention, his sense of security. I watched his frustration and pain wash over his features. A single, hot tear rolled down my own cheek).
(I took a forward step, feeling the weight of the moment. I didn't know what I was going to say, but I knew I had to push back against his pain, which he was cruelly throwing at me).
I finally managed to speak, my voice shaky but firm. "I—I also don't want this arrangement. And I don't like your dad taking my father's place. But I'm adjusting for my mother and my sister! It's not my fault! The fight this morning? That was because I don't like you looking down on my subject.
Understand me, Rylan? I don't want this either!"
He let out a short, cold chuckle and took a swift step closer. "So? Run away from my house then!" Just like you did in Greece? You left me like I was nothing,"
he laughs again, but this time, his voice is darker, sharper.
"Do that again, Aira. Leave. Because this time, I'll be happy to see you go."
(He cast one final, piercing glare at me and turned, walking toward his room. He left me standing there, completely alone. I stood processing his vicious words. He truly thought I left him that day out of choice. Yes, I left him, but it was because I was drowning in shame and fear. Oh God, what do I do now)?
Everything between us was broken. And that was the last night we truly spoke. After that, we never exchanged a single word. When our paths crossed, he wouldn't even look at me, acting as if I simply didn't exist. I tried once or twice to talk to him, but he wouldn't reply or even acknowledge my question.
Days flowed past like that. He played with my little sister, Noah, who adored him. Even Noah seemed to prefer his company, no longer asking me to play with her as often. Mom and Richard were happy; their love life was thriving. But I was left alone.
That feeling of isolation finally broke when Richard announced something during dinner. Rylan wasn't there that night—he was also still angry with his dad and was ignoring him too.
Richard smiled brightly. "Aira, I have some great news! You got your admission! You're in! You're going to Rylan's university!"
My breath hitched. I knew I had to prepare myself. Rylan's reaction was going to be cruel, maybe even more cruel than before. I began preparing myself immediately, steeling my emotions. I wanted to live here, in this house, with my family. To do that, I had to survive Rylan.
Let's see whose self-respect wounds whose the most. Let's see whose words have the deadliest effect.