The rain tonight drummed like a mournful symphony against the glass of my study, its rhythm seeping into my chest. The scent of wet earth lingered in the air, blending with the bitterness of coffee left untouched on the desk. Across from me, she sat on the sofa, shoulders slumped, fingers tangled in the hem of her dress as though clinging to something that could anchor her. Her hair veiled part of her face, pale and weary, and in the hollows beneath her eyes I saw the truth: she was exhausted, and I had been watching her fade for years.

From the first day I met her, I knew she was the calm I had searched for my whole life. Her smile had undone me, her sincerity had anchored me, but before I could take a step toward her, my younger brother had already claimed her hand. I chose silence then, convinced she would be cherished, that her happiness was worth the sacrifice of my own. Yet year after year I watched reality crush that hope—watched her light dim beneath the weight of his betrayals, his infidelities. And all the while, she endured, loving him even as he broke her again and again, while I remained a coward in the shadows, torn between my love and my silence.

Tonight that silence shattered. Seeing her now, pale and hollow before me, something within me broke loose. I no longer cared for duty, for appearances, for the fragile loyalty owed to blood that had long betrayed her. Better that I be the villain than to keep watching her shatter beside him. I rose from my chair, each step toward her heavy yet certain, and knelt before her as though lowering myself to the wounds she tried so desperately to hide. Her hand was cold when I reached for it, fragile between my fingers, and though guilt burned in me, relief coursed deeper when she did not pull away.

My voice trembled when I spoke. “I was a fool for letting you walk this far alone, for believing he could protect you better than I could. He has been destroying you, and I only stood by—pretending not to see.” I lifted my gaze, locking onto hers with a resolve I could no longer restrain. “Do you know the difference between me and him? I have loved you in silence, while he betrayed you without hesitation. I restrained myself for your happiness, while he tore you apart with ease.” The weight of years pressed between us, and still I leaned closer, letting the last of my restraint bleed out. “I don’t care anymore if this makes me selfish. If the world calls me a villain, so be it. Better I be condemned than keep watching you break beside him.”

My grip on her hand tightened, as if that single touch was the only bridge across the chasm between us. My eyes never wavered from hers, and with a breath so heavy it felt like I was giving away my very life, I whispered, more vow than plea.

“Tell me which wound needs healing the most, and let me begin to mend it.”