The Silhouette in the Old Harbor

In response to the question, Just how powerful is the memory of a first love?, I saw my boyfriend's answer.

Too powerful. That's why I proposed to her younger sister. I want to protect her under the guise of family.

I am that younger sister.

But I wasn't as devastated as you might think.

Because the top-voted answer under that same question... was written by me.

I have an unspeakable secret of my own.

1.

The doorbell rang.

At the door stood my blackout-drunk boyfriendand fianc.

He proposed to me last week, and I said yes.

Right now, his eyes were bloodshot, and he reeked of alcohol.

He looked like he had been crying. His buddy was holding him up.

"Hey, sorry. He was just so overwhelmed with emotion about marrying you that he started crying, and then he just drank too much celebrating."

"It's fine. Thank you for bringing him home."

The moment the door clicked shut, Liam grabbed me and pulled me into his arms. "We're finally going to be family."

After I hauled him onto the couch and laid him down, I noticed his phone screen constantly lighting up with notifications for likes and comments.

I used his fingerprint to unlock it.

I discovered he had answered a question on Quora: Just how powerful is the memory of a first love?

His answer read: "Too powerful. I only started pursuing her younger sister so I could have a legitimate reason to see her, and call her 'sister.'

Now, her younger sister loves me deeply and is incredibly gentle with me, but I don't really love her. Or rather, I don't even know if I love her or not.

My first love will always be her older sister. No one can replace her. Proposing to her younger sister is just my way of protecting her under the guise of family."

2.

I thought back to the first time I introduced him to my sister.

Before I could even introduce her, he smoothly said, "Nice to meet you, sister."

I didn't think much of it at the time.

But looking back at her shocked, frozen expression, and Liam's deeply meaningful look...

The tension in the air was practically suffocating.

3.

Actually, Mia isn't my biological sister; she's my stepmother's daughter.

She moved into my house when I started high school. She was a year ahead of me.

My dad absolutely adored her.

With my stepmother in favor, Mia used that leverage to constantly compete with me, practically stealing my father's love. Whenever we were home, we clashed.

It wasn't until we grew up that our relationship somewhat eased. On the surface, we were harmonious, but underneath, the rivalry remained.

Looking at it now, she won completely.

I picked up the man she discarded, and worse, he was still hopelessly in love with her, treating her like his untouchable first love.

I suddenly remembered the Instagram post Liam made when I accepted his proposal.

I'll become your family and protect you forever.

Mia even commented underneath: Congratulations to you both.

Reading his Quora answer, I finally understood the hidden meaning.

Ninety percent of his answer detailed how he couldn't let go of her after they broke up, how he stalked her social media and discovered she had a younger sisterme.

And so, he started pursuing me.

So that's how it was.

On the couch, Liam suddenly grabbed my wrist. "Mia, don't leave me..."

I expressionlessly yanked my hand away.

What Liam didn't know was that he wasn't the only one who answered that question.

The top-voted answer under that question, with over twenty thousand upvotes, was written by me.

I had written it casually years ago and hadn't checked it since.

Honestly, it was time for me to wake up. Liam was never him to begin with.

But I couldn't leave yet. I still had unfinished business.

4.

When Liam woke up the next morning.

I had made breakfast, but without eating a bite, he frantically put on his shoes, grabbed his keys, and rushed to the door.

I called out to him, "Weren't we going to look at wedding dresses this morning?"

He tossed back over his shoulder: "We can go this afternoon. I have something to take care of right now."

I didn't need to ask to know who had texted him.

Years ago, my sister got her wish and married into a wealthy family.

But her husband treated her terribly. He was a notorious playboy with violent tendencies. Yet, she loved the money and the status, so she kept dragging her feet, refusing to get a divorce.

She had posted an Instagram story this morning:

"Hangovers are the worst. My head feels like it's going to explode."

I didn't even need to think to know who Liam was in such a rush to comfort.

5.

In the afternoon.

Liam called and told me to come downstairs.

When I opened the car door, my sister was sitting in the passenger seat.

Liam said, "I bumped into your sister downstairs. She said she'd come help give you some advice."

He had a tiny, fresh cut on his lip.

My sister's lips were also very red, her lipstick slightly smudged.

She chimed in, "Yeah, I'll help you pick. I have a pretty good eye for these things."

I nodded faintly. "Sure, you have plenty of experience."

Seeing my unusually calm reaction, she added, "I get a little carsick, so sitting in the front passenger seat makes me feel better. You don't mind, do you?"

Before I could answer.

Liam spoke up first: "Why would she mind? A seat is a seat, right, Chloe?"

"Yeah."

Halfway there, my sister suddenly said:

"Oh, by the way, let me share some good news with you both. I got a divorce."

The car slammed to a sudden halt, throwing me forward.

Liam's voice was hoarse. "You got a divorce?"

My sister smiled, her lips curling up. "Yeah, I got a divorce. I couldn't do it anymore. I want a fresh start."

Liam stared at her for a long time. The two of them looked like they were shooting a soap opera. I had to interrupt: "What are we waiting for? Why aren't we moving?"

6.

The car ride was thick with unspoken tension until we finally arrived at the bridal boutique.

I tried on the first dress. When I stepped out of the fitting room...

Liam was still talking to my sister, completely ignoring me. It wasn't until the consultant praised me out loud that he finally turned his head to look at me.

I looked him dead in the eye with a polite smile.

"It looks great. Really beautiful. Let's just go with this one."

I clenched my fists. "Just this one?"

My sister flipped her hair and said, "Come on, you're not even trying. Let her try on a few more."

Suddenly, my sister's ex-husband, Derek, burst through the doors.

Derek grabbed my sister's wrist, glaring at her furiously. "You got me drunk last night and tricked me into signing the divorce papers! How the hell did you dare?!"

My sister immediately hid behind Liam. "You signed them yourself. Stop harassing me."

Liam lunged forward and threw two punches at him.

"You're divorced! How dare you harass her? Back the fuck off!"

Derek was knocked to the floor.

But as he fell, he crashed into me. In my high heels, I lost my balance and fell hard to the floor. A sharp pain shot through my ankle.

Liam grabbed Derek by the collar and told him to get out.

When Liam rushed back in, he ran straight to my sister. "Mia, are you okay?"

The consultant looked at me with a complicated expression and helped me up.

"Mr. Carter, Miss Chloe seems to have sprained her ankle."

Only then did he run over to check on me.

But the very next second, my sister fainted.

He turned around without hesitation, picked her up, and said, "Chloe, I'm taking your sister to the hospital. You just... keep trying dresses on yourself."

7.

"Okay. Remember to come back."

My ankle throbbed, but after standing up, it felt manageable. I could still walk.

The consultant asked me with a hesitant look, "Miss Chloe, should we... try on some other dresses?"

"No need. Maybe another time."

As expected, Liam never came back to the bridal shop that entire day.

He texted me to go home and rest, saying my sister was very weak and needed to be hospitalized, so he was staying to take care of her.

8.

Late in the dead of night, I took off my phone case and pulled out a photograph.

Ethan, did you see? I wore a wedding dress today.

However, the only answer I got was the endless, silent night.

The next day, I drove alone to a cemetery outside the city.

Standing in front of Ethan's headstone were a married couple and a little boy.

I was a bit surprised. "Excuse me, who are you?"

The couple looked visibly moved when they saw me. "Ethan was our savior. You must be his girlfriend, right?"

I nodded, bewildered.

"Your boyfriend donated his corneas to our son. I really don't know how to properly thank his family. Please, take this bank card..."

My heart violently clenched. I looked down at the little boy with big, bright eyes, and my vision instantly blurred with tears.

"Little guy, is your name Liam Carter?"

The little boy nodded.

"Yes, miss. My name is Liam."

So I was wrong this entire time.

I found the wrong person. The man who possessed Ethan's eyes was never the Liam Carter I had been dating.

The couple kept talking, but it felt like all the sound was sucked out of the world.

I smiled through my tears and patted the little boy's head. "Liam, it's so nice to meet you. You have to grow up strong, okay?"

9.

The little boy nodded, looking up at me.

"Miss, what kind of person was the big brother?"

"Him? He was the coolest, gentlest person in the world. He would beat up anyone who tried to bully me."

The little boy handed me his umbrella. "Don't be sad, miss. I'm giving you my umbrella. The big brother will definitely protect you from up in heaven."

I patted his head. "Thank you."

I didn't take the bank card. After they left, I slowly crouched down and traced the photograph on the headstone.

"Ethan, are you mad at me for finding the wrong person?"

The Liam I found wasn't the Liam I was looking for. He was just a completely irrelevant stranger.

While I was trying to figure out how to meet him, he actually approached me first, so we ended up together.

Every time I looked into his eyes, I forced myself to show him my best self.

But when he closed his eyes, I didn't even have the strength to smile.

In this moment, the obsession that had haunted me for so long simply dissolved into thin air.

Liam called my phone.

I hung up without a second thought.

The wind howled past my ears under the heavy, pouring rain.

The man on the headstone had sharp, striking features. His dark eyelashes drooped softly, his eyes filled with an ocean of tenderness.

I took that photo of him.

But when I took it, I never imagined it would be turned into a black-and-white portrait glued to a freezing headstone.

I whispered to him, "Ethan, when are you going to wear a suit for me?"

"Do you think maybe this is all just a dream? That tomorrow I'll wake up, and you'll be alive?"

"If you can hear me, make the rain stop. Please?"

10.

Suddenly, the raindrops began to lighten.

The rapid drumming against the umbrella slowly faded away.

The rain... actually stopped.

A breeze from the distance ruffled my hair.

And dried the tears at the corners of my eyes. It felt so incredibly gentle.

The strands of hair brushing against my cheek felt exactly like him stroking my face. "Don't cry. I've always been right here beside you."

I was suddenly pulled back to the summer I was seventeen.

That day, my sister and I had a huge fight. She moved her stuff into my bedroom without asking, taking over my space.

We got into a physical fight, and my stepmother couldn't pull us apart.

When my dad got home, he didn't even ask what happened. He just slapped me across the face so hard my head whipped to the side. "Look at your sister's face! You scratched her up!"

I slammed the door and ran away, sprinting straight to Ethan.

Inside his tattoo parlor, I kept my head down the entire time.

But he walked over and ruffled my hair. "Why are your eyes so red? Who'd you get into a fight with?"

"No one. I just tripped and fell."

But he grabbed a first-aid kit. With his long, tattoo-covered fingers, he gently cleaned my scratches.

"Tell me who bullied you."

I couldn't hold it in anymore. I threw myself into his chest and sobbed uncontrollably.

I soaked the thin black shirt he was wearing.

He usually kept a polite distance from me, but that time, he didn't push me away. He just gently patted my back.

Eventually, I fell asleep in his arms.

Ever since my mom passed away, that was the warmest embrace I had ever felt.

I fell hopelessly, incurably in love with him.

Of course, it was a secret crush.

On the outside, he looked tough and cold, but in reality, he was gentler than anyone I had ever known.