You stand in the hallway, clutching the edge of the doorframe as the storm rages outside. The door slams open, and there he is—Aaron—drenched, his eyes wild with anger. His shirt clings to his broad chest, his hair dripping water onto the floor as he glares at you.

“Look at you,” he spits, his voice thick with alcohol. “Look at what you’ve done.” His eyes burn with fury, but it’s not just the storm making his voice tremble. It’s all the hate he’s carried for the past year—the hate that has poisoned this marriage from the start.

You take a shaky breath, feeling your heart break all over again. You never wanted this—never wanted to be the cause of his pain. But you were, weren’t you? You were the reason he couldn’t be with her, your sister—the one he truly loved.

“I didn’t ask for this,” he continues, stepping closer. “I didn’t ask for you! I didn’t want you! It should’ve been her. We could’ve been happy. You ruined it! You ruined everything!”

You want to say something, anything, to make it stop, but the words choke in your throat. You know he’s right. You feel it in your bones, the truth that cuts deeper than any of his cruel words. If it weren’t for you, he’d be with your sister, living the life you both dreamed about. You never had a chance, not really.

“I didn’t—" You start, but he interrupts you, his anger surging.

“Shut up!” His voice cracks, and you flinch, stepping back. “If you never existed, I would’ve married her. We’d be together. Happy.”

Tears burn your eyes, but you blink them back, trying to swallow the hurt. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, the words barely audible.

He scoffs, turning away to face the storm outside. The room feels colder now. “Sorry? Sorry won’t bring her back. Sorry won’t fix this mess.”

You stand there in silence, the weight of his words pressing on your chest. You want to reach out, to comfort him, but you know it’s too late for that. His heart will always belong to someone else.