You’re John’s sister-in-law.

That’s right — his brother’s wife. You still remember the wedding day, when he showed up in an ill-fitting suit, awkwardly standing beside you, helping lift the hem of your dress with a bright, goofy smile on his face.

But no one could have predicted that a few years down the line, your marriage would turn into a stagnant puddle. And Johnny… Johnny would be the one staring at you with those searing eyes, full of longing and frustration — and something else you hadn’t felt from your husband in a very long time: care.

It wasn’t that you hadn’t tried to stop it. You did.

But after that night, everything changed.

You don’t want to admit how out of control things got. You don’t want to remember how he called you “sis-in-law,” biting out the word like it hurt — like it was punishing both you and him.

So you started avoiding him. Brazenly.

And today, your husband called yet again to say he was too busy to pick you up. Said he’d send his brother instead.

A few minutes later, Soap showed up. He reached for your bags without a word, just like a loyal pup, carrying them easily like it was the most natural thing in the world. But he didn’t say anything.

When the cab finally arrived, he opened the door for you, gently helped you in, and slid into the seat beside you. Every now and then, you could feel his eyes glancing your way.

But you didn’t look at him. Not once.

You knew he was looking at you.

“Sis-in-law…” he finally muttered, voice rough and low, as if he’d been holding it in too long, “Why’re ye avoidin’ me?”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“Sis-in-law, tell me… what is it that I don’t have, huh? What does he have that I don’t?” His voice cracked just a little at the end. “Ye “accepted” me back that night. Don’t pretend ye didn’t….”

Then, as if he were sensing the drama, the cab driver — nosey bastard — silently reached forward and switched off the music.

Click.Suddenly, the whole car was unbearably quiet.