Choose My Brother I Will Leave

In the final split-second of the grouping game, Daphne didn't hesitate. She shoved me away.

For the tenth time that night, she singled Jesse out of the crowd and pulled him into her arms. Jessemy half-brother, the son of the woman who tore my parents' marriage apart. She had turned a simple party game into a private chase between the two of them.

Her excuse was always the same:

"Losers have to take the penalty, Logan. He and his mother treated you like garbage, so Im just giving him a taste of his own medicine."

But when Jesse, dripping wet and shivering under the giant suspended water bucket, finally broke down and sobbed, her face changed. She lunged forward, throwing her body over his to shield him.

The lounge fell dead silent. The look on everyone's faces made me feel like the ultimate punchline.

"Look at how the campus queen looks at his little brother! Are Logan and Daphne even actually together? I swear those relationship photos he posts are AI-generated. Why else has Daphne never once acknowledged them?"

"For real, Logans Instagram feed is just a collection of a desperate simp's delusions. It's wild!"

I looked at Daphne, waiting for her to say something, but her eyes were locked entirely on Jesse. Her voice carried a manufactured sharpness: "What are you crying for? Logan didn't even cry when your mother kicked him and his mom out."

But I saw it. I saw the raw, aching tenderness in her eyes.

I swallowed the bitter lump in my throat, pulled out my phone, and wiped my feed.

"You're right," I whispered to no one in particular. "Daphne and I were never actually together."

Maybe it was time to listen to my mother, leave the country, and accept the family match shed arranged for me.

Daphne used to despise home-wreckers.

When she first learned that my mother and I had been cast out of our own home because of Jesse and his mother, her protective rage was terrifying. She had literally grabbed a chair, marched over to my father's office, and cracked his head open. Since then, shed never given Jesse a single break. She targeted him at every turn, fighting my battles for me.

But now, amidst the snickers of our classmates, she was gently, helplessly wiping the tears from my bastard brother's face.

Once Jesses sobbing quieted to a whimper, Daphne finally let out a sigh of relief. She slid back over and sat down beside me.

"What were you guys talking about?" she asked.

Before I could utter a word, our classmates chimed in, their voices dripping with mockery.

"We were just saying how you and Logan are basically strangers."

"Yeah, Daphne, did you know? Logans been posting couple goals on his feed every other day. Talk about living in a fantasy world. Its hilarious!"

Daphnes face was half-shadowed by the dim neon lighting of the lounge. Her expression was unreadable, her tone utterly detached.

"Really?" she said, swirling her drink. "Then he should probably delete them."

The lounge erupted into a chorus of laughter.

"See! I told you! Why would a girl like Daphne ever date a clinger like him?"

"Honestly, she and Jesse make way more sense. Enemies to lovers, right?"

In the middle of the mockery, my eyes stung with hot, rising tears.

Over the last two years, Daphne had never explicitly forbidden me from posting about us. But whenever I begged her to post something in return, shed always offer the same rehearsed line:

"My social media is strictly professional, Logan. Its for my professors and internship coordinators. Its not appropriate to post relationship stuff. Your posts are enough for both of us."

So I would settle for the bare minimum, asking her to at least like my photos.

She never did.

And when I called her out on it, she would pull me close, whispering, "You know I hate scrolling through social media. As long as the people who matter know we're together, who cares?"

And so, for two years, I performed a solo play to an empty theater.

Sensing the sudden shift in my mood, Daphne reached under the table, her fingers slipping into mine, squeezing reassuringly. "I was just joking," she murmured, her voice soft and coaxing. "Theyre just being assholes. Don't take it to heart."

"I just took on a major research project under my adviser. If the department heads think I'm distracted by a public relationship, itll hurt my standing."

"Be good, Logan. Just wait until the semester ends, and I'll explain everything to them."

But this time, the words didn't soothe me. They felt like hollow, well-worn scripts.

My nails bit deep into my palms. Forcing down the sob catching in my chest, I whispered, "Don't bother."

Right there, in front of her, I opened my profile and deleted every single post, every photo, every mention of her name.

I stood up to leave, my hands trembling as I shot a text to my mother across the Atlantic:

Mom, I'll take the flight. I'm ready to move and meet the person you chose for me.

The moment I stepped out of the lounge, the cool night air hit me, and the tears Id been holding back finally broke. Before I could make it to the curb, a firm hand gripped my wrist. It was Daphne, panting slightly.

"Logan, where are you going? We agreed I was driving you home!"

I wrenched my arm back with everything I had. "Don't touch me!"

Daphne froze, finally seeing the tear tracks shining on my face. Her breath hitched. "Are you seriously crying over a deleted post?"

"Daphne, you're in love with Jesse, aren't you?"

"Are you insane?" she snapped instantly. "Hes the bastard who ruined your family. I despise him!"

She stopped, her posture softening as she stepped closer to wrap her arms around me. Her tone turned into that familiar, soothing caress.

"Look, I'm sorry. Stop being difficult, let's just go back inside."

"I'll go back in there and tell them were together, okay? Right now."

Looking into her eyes, I saw the ghost of the girl who had always put me first.

I remembered freshman year of high school, when I had slapped Jesse's mother during an argument and my father locked me in my room for three days without food. It was Daphne who climbed the trellis to my window, sneaking in meals and eventually calling the police to force my father to let us go.

Sophomore year, when Jesse played the victim, turning the entire grade against me. Daphne didn't say a word; she walked right into the classroom, smashed his desk, threw his backpack in the dumpster, and told him, That's what actual bullying looks like.

Junior year, when Jesse lured me up into the mountain trails on a false pretext and abandoned me. Daphne drove all nightignoring the fact that she had her SATs the next morningand carried me down the mountain path on her back, step by painful step.

Those memories were etched into my bones. My heart wavered, aching with the desperate hope that the girl who carried me through the dark wouldn't do this to me.

"Come on," she whispered, tugging gently. "Everyone's waiting. Once this is over, we'll go home together."

I clenched my fists and let her lead me back into the private room.

The second the door swung open, a massive slab of cake slammed directly into my face.

Thick icing clogged my nose and mouth, suffocating me. The sugary grease stung my eyes, and the sticky weight of it dragged down my clothes. I stood there, utterly humiliated.

As I blindly tried to scrape the frosting from my eyes, the room exploded into vicious laughter.

"Oh my god, look at him! That is priceless! Hes actually trying to eat it off his face, that's disgusting!"

"Classic Daphne! One little sweet talk and he comes running back like a puppy. Otherwise, we wouldn't even have gotten this show!"

The shame burned through my chest. Then I saw Daphne. She was leaning against the bar, her shoulders shaking with laughter.

My voice shook, thick with tears. "Why?"

Before Daphne could answer, Jesse's smug, lighthearted voice cut through. "Come on, Logan. Everyone took their punishment tonight except you. You ran away. Thats not fair, is it?"

"So I asked Daphne to bring you back."

My mind went entirely blank. I stared at Daphne, desperately searching her face, but her warmth had vanished, replaced by a cold, detached look.

"Logan," she said flatly, "if you play the game, you have to follow the rules."

Something inside me shattered, a clean, silent break.

She hadn't brought me back to clear the air. She hadn't brought me back to declare her love. She brought me back because Jesse said it wasn't fair. I was brought back to be their entertainment.

A soft sigh sounded beside me as a heavy jacket was thrown over my head. Daphnes voice was neutral, her expression carefully blank. "Clean yourself up. Stop making a scene."

But as the jacket slid down, my eyes caught her exposed collarbone. Written there, in bold, black Sharpie, were the words: Jesse's property.

Daphne noticed where I was looking. She let out a soft, amused scoff. "You missed it. I lost a drinking game to Jesse while you were gone. This was my dare. Kids got a weird mind, honestly. I don't know what goes on in his head."

But Daphnes tolerance for alcohol was legendary. She was a vault. I remembered a fraternity fundraiser where she systematically drank an entire table of recruiters under the table without her cheeks even flushing.

And Jesse? If I remembered correctly, he was severely allergic to alcohol. If Daphne hadn't wanted to lose, Jesse could never have outdrunk her.

When we played games in private, she wouldn't even let me draw a tiny flower on her wrist. Yet here she was, letting Jesse write something so degrading on her bare skin.

The pain in my chest was dull and heavy, like my lungs had been stuffed with cotton. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't speak.

But Jesse wasn't done playing. "Hey, you deserved it for throwing me under the bus earlier! That mark stays on for at least a month, Daphne! I'm getting back at you for everything. If I don't make you cry by the end of this semester, my name isn't Jesse!"

Daphne smirked. "Oh yeah? Who was the one crying like a lost puppy five minutes ago?"

He let out an embarrassed shriek and lunged at her, swatting at her arm. In the scuffle, his shoulder shoved hard against me. I stumbled backward, the sharp edge of the mahogany table cutting violently into my lower back. The pain was so sharp it drew cold sweat on my forehead.

Through my blurred vision, I watched them. Daphne was laughing, batting him away, completely oblivious to the fact that I was hurting.

The last embers of my hope died. She kept saying she hated him. But her body, her laughter, her focusthey all belonged to him now.

The background chatter of the room drifted back in:

"Daphnes basically throwing herself at him. Unlike some people who beg for scraps and still get ignored. If I were Logan, Id take the hint and leave. Its embarrassing."

"Wait, if Daphne likes Jesse, why was she always so brutal to him before?"

"Dude, you don't get girls. When you like someone, you pick on them. That way, theyre forced to look at you."

In the past, I would have laughed that off. You don't hurt the people you love. But now, the truth was staring me in the face. People change. Hearts rot.

A notification vibrated in my pocket. It was a flight confirmation from my mother.

Logan, the ticket is booked. Tomorrow morning.

I looked up at Daphne, who had already forgotten I was in the room, deeply engrossed in a new round of some party game with Jesse. I looked down and typed back:

Okay.

If her heart had moved on, I didn't want the leftover pieces anyway.

By the time I got back to our shared apartment, the rain was pouring, soaking me to the bone. Daphnes text thread remained completely silent. She hadn't even realized I was gone.

I briefly thought about sending her a formal breakup text, but decided against it. In the eyes of the world, we had never been together anyway.

Then, a special notification popped up. Daphne had posted on her Instagram. It was a photo of two hands, fingers tightly locked. No caption.

Immediately beneath it, her roommate had posted a video. In the clip, Daphne and Jesse were holding their breath, their fingers still intertwined. Daphne leaned in, tickling his side, making him squirm and laugh.

"You're cheating! You know I'm ticklish there!" he gasped.

The roommates caption read: The tension in this room is insane. I am literally screaming!

I stared at the screen until my fingers turned white from gripping the phone. So, she was capable of posting her life online. She just didn't want to post me.

I don't know how long I sat there on the cold hardwood floor. Until the front door was kicked open with a violent bang.

Daphne stormed in, her eyes wild with rage. She grabbed my collar, dragging me to my feet, and shoved her phone in my face.

"Did you do this? Did you leak the story about Jesse being a bastard? You actually wrote that hes trying to steal your girlfriend! Do you have any idea what you've done? He's so hysterical he's threatening to jump!"

I looked blankly at the screen. It was an old account of mine that I hadn't used in years.

"I didn't write that," I said quietly.

"It's your account! Who else could have done it!" Daphnes face was flushed, her jaw tight with disgust. "Ive helped you get back at him so many times, Logan. Isn't that enough? This is someone's life! How could you be this petty?"

"Delete the post right now, and post a public apology clarifying everything!"

My nails dug into my palms. "Clarify? Clarify what, Daphne?"

"Even if I did write it, is any of it a lie? Is he not a bastard? Did his mother not destroy my family?"

Daphne looked at me like I was a monster. "He was just a kid! He didn't choose his mother! He shouldn't have to pay for her sins. If he had a choice, do you think hed choose to be born illegitimate?"

Seeing my silence, her expression went completely cold. "Fine. If you won't clear his name, I'll do it myself."

She snatched my phone out of my hand. I lunged to grab it back, but she held it high, pinning me against the wall with her body weight. Right in front of my face, she typed out a statement on my account:

Everything I said about Jesse was a lie born out of jealousy. His mother never ruined my family. He is my brother, and Daphne and I were never together. I projected a fantasy of us being in a relationship. My accusations of him being a homewrecker are completely baseless.

She pressed send. Then she mass-forwarded it to our entire school group chat.

I lost it. I screamed, I thrashed, I pushed her with everything I had. My mother, being overseas, might not see the gossip sites, but she kept an eye on my social feed. If she saw this... the sheer humiliation she would feel on my behalf was too much to bear.

I fought wildly to get the phone back, but Daphne caught my wrists and locked them behind my back, trapping me against her chest.

"Shh, calm down," she whispered, her voice suddenly switching back to that tender, suffocating warmth. "Once this blows over, it'll be fine. Let Jesse's head clear, and I'll explain things to everyone. Then well get married, okay? Just you and me."

With her free hand, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small black velvet box. Inside was a ring. The ring I had dreamed of for two long years.

Tears streamed down my face. I had imagined her proposing a thousand times, but never like this. No romance, no flowers, just a rushed gesture in a cold room, the ring clearly the wrong size. Even when she spoke of marriage, her mind was entirely on saving another man.

My phone started ringing, breaking the silence.

"Daphne! Jesse's on the ledge of the dorm window! He won't come down unless you come right now!"

Daphnes face went pale. She shoved the velvet box into my hand, gave me a hurried, desperate look, and ran out the door without another word.

I stood in the empty apartment, the heavy silence settling around me. I looked at the ring, then let out a hollow laugh that quickly turned into a sob.

"No, Daphne," I whispered to the empty hallway. "Im not marrying you."

I threw the ring directly into the trash can.

I slid down to the floor, picked up my phone, and began deleting the post she had forced onto my feed. But the damage was done. The notifications were already pouring ininsults, threats, mockery. With shaking hands, I blocked the incoming messages.

Then, I dug through my cloud storage. I found the voice memo from the night Daphne agreed to be my girlfriend. I had been so ecstatic, so afraid shed take it back, that I made her repeat her confession so I could record it. I never thought Id use it as a weapon.

I uploaded the audio file, alongside the video of Daphne and Jesse tickling each other, to my feed. Underneath, I wrote:

You can decide who the real liar is. Daphne and I were together for two years. But as of today, we are done.

The internet erupted.

Within seconds, Daphnes name flashed on my screen. I blocked her number immediately, grabbed my suitcase, and walked out to the waiting Uber.

As we drove down the highway, I saw her blue sports car speeding in the opposite direction, hurtling toward the apartment. For a brief second, our cars aligned, and I caught a glimpse of her panicked face.

Goodbye, Daphne, I thought, looking away. We are finally over.