You Deserve To Lose Me

Melodys mother stole my father, and in doing so, she killed my mother.

Years later, history decided to repeat itself.

The boy I grew up with, the one who had been by my side for eighteen years, lied to my face. Behind my back, he spent his evenings helping Melody with her college applications, even gifting her the limited-edition vintage vinyl I had begged him to find for me.

And when Melody hacked into my college portal and withdrew my Ivy League acceptance, replacing it with a local community college, he actually defended her.

"Melody didnt mean any harm, Caroline," he pleaded. "She was just playing a practical joke on you."

But there was nothing funny about it.

01

Just days before the final college decision deadline, I experienced a violent, inexplicable tear in time.

I was hurled ten years into the future.

I saw myself. I saw a girl who had scored a 1550 on her SATs now limping on a shattered right leg, her hair unwashed and tied back with a fraying rubber band, busing tables at a greasy diner.

Meanwhile, my stepsister Melody had graduated from an elite university, married my childhood sweetheart, Connor, and given birth to a picture-perfect pair of twins.

I remember the blood draining from my face. "How did this happen?"

My twenty-eight-year-old self offered a hollow, broken laugh.

"Melody changed my college portal. By the time I found out, the deadline had passed. It was too late."

"Dad and Connor both took her side. They said she didnt do it maliciously, that it was just a prank, that I needed to take a joke."

"But I couldn't swallow the injustice. I confronted her. We fought at the top of the stairs, and she threw herself backward, framing me. Dad... Dad wanted to teach me a lesson. He hired the best prosecutors to press aggravated assault charges and let me rot in a juvenile detention center for six months."

"Connor promised hed wait for me. But the day I got out, I found them tangled up in his bed."

"I snapped. I grabbed a kitchen knife. I hurt them both."

"That time, Connor hired the most ruthless defense attorney in the state to ensure I got the maximum sentence. Five years."

Her words were like lightning striking the base of my skull. My whole body went rigid. I heard my own voice trembling as I fought back:

"No. That's impossible. Connor and I grew up together. He loves me. He promised hed protect me for the rest of my life."

"He knows how much I despise Melody and her mother. He would never help them destroy me."

The older version of me stared back, her eyes rimmed with red. She looked down at her ruined, asymmetrical leg.

"Why wouldn't he? People change, Caroline."

"Even this leg... Connor paid off one of the guards in lockup to look the other way while an inmate took a metal pipe to my knee."

She jerked her head up, her gaze fierce and desperate.

"Caroline, listen to me. If you don't want to lose your future, if you don't want to become a convicted felon scrubbing grease off diner tables, wake the hell up! Stop letting Connor play you for a fool!"

The sheer magnitude of the information hit my brain like a physical blow. The world tipped on its axis.

The next second, I collapsed onto the hardwood floor.

When I opened my eyes, the sterile, chemical scent of hospital bleach flooded my lungs.

"Caroline, thank God, you're awake!"

Connor was sitting by the edge of my hospital bed. Both of his hands were wrapped tightly around my left hand, his dark eyes wide with unfeigned panic and concern.

"You passed out in your room last night. You scared the life out of me!"

02

I lay there, perfectly still, just looking at him.

Unbidden, a memory surfaced. Eighth-grade field trip to the state park. I had wandered off the trail and gotten hopelessly lost. It was Connor who spent three hours searching for me in the dying light. His shins were sliced up by thorny brambles, but he still insisted on carrying me on his back the whole way down the mountain because I was too paralyzed by fear to walk.

I thought of my fourteenth birthday. My father had thrown a massive, catered backyard gala for Melodywho happened to share my exact birthdateand completely forgot about me.

I had hidden in the darkness of my closet, clutching a framed photograph of my mother to my chest, crying until I couldn't breathe.

It was Connor who opened the closet door. He was holding a lopsided, home-baked cupcake with a single lit candle, looking at me like a knight who had finally found his charge.

"Happy birthday, Caro."

"Don't be scared. You're not alone. I'll be here for every birthday, for the rest of your life."

I thought of all the times Melody had tried to insert herself into his orbit.

In the dead of winter, she had spent weeks knitting him a gray scarf. Connor hadn't even given it a second glance before tossing it into the cafeteria trash can.

Melodys eyes had welled up with those trademark tears, but Connors voice was like ice:

"Don't waste your time. I will always stand with Caroline."

"You and your mother destroyed her family. That makes you my enemy, too."

Then, another memory. Melodys mother, Valerie, accidentally knocking my mothers vintage Cartier watch off my dresser, shattering the delicate glass face.

Blinded by grief and rage, I had thrown a glass of ice water right in Valeries face.

Valerie was a master of the victim act. She instantly collapsed into my fathers arms, weeping.

"I was just trying to help Caroline tidy her room. I didn't mean to bump the dresser. She misunderstood... she thinks I did it on purpose."

"Richard, please, don't be mad at her."

Her calculated retreat only made my father more protective of her. He turned to me, his eyes devoid of any paternal warmth.

"Caroline Ellis, who taught you to act like such a savage? Apologize to your mother, right now!"

I tipped my chin up, my throat tight.

"I only have one mother. Valerie is just a cheap homewrecker."

The slap echoed through the hallway. My father struck me so hard my ears rang.

"I have spoiled you for too long. You have zero respect!"

As punishment, he forced me to stand in the freezing mudroom for twelve hours. No dinner. No water. No sitting down.

My legs shook. I was lightheaded from hunger.

It was Connor who shimmied up the trellis and crawled through the mudroom window, pulling a bag of warm, sugar-dusted apple cider donuts from his jacket.

I ate them through my tears, and he wiped my cheeks with his thumbs, his own face twisted in sympathetic agony.

"Don't cry. Once we graduate, were going to college in Boston. Well get as far away from them as possible."

"Ill be your family from now on. Ill take care of you. Ill protect you."

It never surprised me that my father chose Melody over me.

But Connor? Connor, who looked at me like I hung the moon? How could he ever betray me for her?

I didn't want to believe it.

Maybe the vision of my twenty-eight-year-old self was just a stress-induced nightmare.

I tried to self-soothe.

But reality was waiting to deliver its own slap to the face.

03

Before we checked out of the hospital, Connor ran down to the pharmacy on the first floor.

I watched him walk back into the room, holding a small paper bag. "Are you getting a cold?" I asked, confused.

He froze. A heavy silence stretched between us before he hesitated, shifting his weight.

"It's not for me. It's for Melody."

"She texted a few minutes ago saying she was running a fever, so she asked me to pick up some meds."

My heart plummeted into my stomach.

The terror of my nightmare flooded my veins, making my skin prickle. I couldn't stop the barrage of questions.

"Why are you buying medicine for Melody? Since when do you two text? Since when are you close?"

"Do you have feelings for her? When did this start?"

Seeing my escalating panic, Connor quickly set the bag down and reached for my shoulders.

"Caro, stop overthinking. How could I ever like Melody?"

"You're the only one I care about. But Melody... Melody saved my life. I'm just repaying a debt."

I recoiled. "She saved your life? When? Why don't I know about this?"

Connor finally confessed the secret he had been keeping for months:

"Two months ago, I was walking back from a party. I was crossing the street, and a drunk driver blew a red light. I didn't see it coming."

"If Melody hadn't shoved me out of the way, I would have been the one with a shattered femur."

I knew Melody had been injured. Of course I did.

But I had no idea she had broken her leg saving Connor.

Suddenly, everything clicked. It made sense why, despite missing the final two months of senior year and being confined to a hospital bed, Melody had seemed completely unfazed. She was constantly posting bubbly updates on her Instagram stories.

Her favorite captions were always:

"My favorite private tutor is here again! Im so spoiled! <3"

"Look at the limited-edition vinyl my tutor hunted down for me! Best day ever!"

I had never visited her in the hospital, so I had never seen this "tutor." I assumed my dad had hired some grad student to keep her grades up.

But looking back, during that exact same period, Connor had stopped walking me home from school.

"Caro, my grandma isn't feeling well. I have to go to the estate and check on her. I can't walk you home today."

I knew how much Connor loved his grandmother. I never questioned it. I even bought her expensive teas and sent them with him.

Was it all a lie?

Hot tears welled in my eyes. I looked at the boy I thought I knew better than anyone.

"So... the 'tutor' was you. And the person who gave her that vinyl record was you. Wasn't it?"

I had wanted that record for a year. It was nearly impossible to find.

I had begged Connor to help me track it down. He had tapped his chest confidently and said, "Leave it to me. Have I ever let you down?"

Two weeks later, he handed me a generic, newly pressed album.

"I'm sorry, Caro. The vintage one is completely sold out. I called every collector I know."

But he had found it. He just gave it to Melody instead.

04

Seeing my tears, panic flared in Connors eyes. He scrambled to explain himself.

"Caro, please don't cry. I swear to you, I'm only nice to her because I owe her my life."

"I know how much you hate her. I was terrified that if you found out, it would mess with your head right before finals. That's why I asked everyone to keep it a secret."

I fought to keep my voice from shaking.

"If you were going to lie to me, why couldn't you just keep lying?"

He looked miserable, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Melody... she wants to apply to the same colleges in Boston as us."

"Shes timid. Shes terrified of being in a new city where she doesn't know anyone and getting bullied. She thinks if Im there, shell have someone to look out for her."

"She literally took a car for me, Caro. I couldn't say no..."

"Just... do it for me, okay? Can you just try to co-exist peacefully with her from now on?"

He couldn't say no to Melody, so his solution was to demand that I compromise.

The audacity was suffocating.

"Valerie drove my mother to an early grave. And you want me to play nice with the daughter of my mother's replacement? Do you hear how insane you sound?"

I was thirteen when my mother was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer.

Valerie couldn't even wait for the body to get cold. She showed up at our front door, dragging Melody behind her.

The sickest part? Melody was born on the exact same day, in the exact same year, as me.

That was how my dying mother found out my father had been living a double life since the day I was born.

The betrayal broke what little spirit she had left. She coughed up blood and passed away less than a month later.

Three months after the funeral, my father moved Valerie into the master bedroom.

Connor knew all of this. He held my hand through the funeral.

And yet, here he was, twisting himself into knots to defend Melody.

"You can't choose how you're born, Caroline. The sins of the parents aren't Melody's fault."

"She's not like her mother. She's sweet. She's kind."

"She has never once tried to hurt you. Shes always bending over backward, trying to get you to like her."

"You need to learn to let things go. You can't live in this toxic bubble of hatred forever."

As I watched Connor advocate for Melody, the warmth in my chest died out, inch by agonizing inch.

The image of my twenty-eight-year-old selflimping, wiping down a greasy table, dead-eyed and brokenflashed behind my eyelids with terrifying clarity.

Suddenly, the boy standing in front of me felt like a stranger. A dangerous stranger. I instinctively took a step back.

"I need to be alone. Do not follow me."

I needed space to think.

Of course, Connor didn't listen. He followed me out of the hospital, but perhaps sensing my absolute disgust, he maintained a strict fifteen-foot distance all the way back to my house.

05

I walked through the front door of my house and pushed open the door to my bedroom.

There was Melody, sitting in my desk chair, typing away on my laptop.

The words from my future selfMelody changed my college portalscreamed in my head. My pulse spiked. I lunged forward and shoved her away from the desk.

"Who gave you permission to touch my computer?"

Melody stumbled and fell gracefully to the carpet, immediately playing dumb.

"Sister, you're misunderstanding. I would never mess with your applications!"

"My laptop crashed, and I just needed to look up some research material."

She lowered her eyelashes, a perfectly timed tear slipping down her cheek.

"I'm sorry. I forgot how much you despise me. I promise I'll never touch your things again."

I didn't have the energy for her Oscar-worthy performance.

I slid into the chair, pulled up the Common App portal, and checked my submissions.

Thankfully, I had walked in just in time. She hadn't managed to alter anything yet.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. But when I looked up, Connor was standing in the doorway, helping Melody up from the floor. He was glaring at me with open disapproval.

"Her leg is barely healed, Caroline. How could you be so aggressive?"

"You're out of line. You owe her an apology."

I stared at him, incredulous.

"She was sneaking onto my laptop without asking. If she falls, she deserves it."

Connors brow furrowed deeply.

"Why are you being so bitter? It's like I don't even know who you are anymore."

His reflexive instinct to protect her over me was the final nail in the coffin.

It confirmed everything. Last night wasn't a hallucination. It was a premonition.

In the not-so-distant future, Connor would absolutely destroy me for Melodys sake.

But I wasn't going to stick around and play the naive victim.

I swallowed the sharp, acidic ache rising in my throat and met his gaze.

"I am bitter. If you don't like it, then let's break up."

His face drained of color. He looked at me like I had lost my mind.

"Are you seriously throwing a tantrum and threatening to break up just because I called you out?"

Melody clung to his arm, pretending to be the peacemaker, though she was clearly pouring gasoline on the fire.

"Sister, please. Connor loves you so much. He does everything for you."

"Every time you two fight, he's always the one who swallows his pride to apologize."

"If you shed a single tear, he beats himself up for days."

"You might be throwing a tantrum, but you shouldn't use your relationship as a weapon. Aren't you afraid of breaking his heart?"

Connor looked at me, a profound disappointment settling over his features.

"You're acting like a spoiled brat, Caro."

"Just because I usually let you get away with murder doesn't mean I don't have my limits."

"Let's just take some space. Don't call me until you've calmed down and realized how ridiculous you're being."

With that, he wrapped his arm around Melodys waist and helped her out of my room.

Watching his retreating back, a profound wave of sorrow washed over me.

My future self was right. People change.

No matter how much Connor used to cherish me, Melody was now the priority.

From this day forward, we were on different paths.

I blinked back the stinging in my eyes, turned to my computer, and made a calculated, cold decision. I logged in and changed my binding enrollment from Boston to UC Berkeley in California.

If he wanted to play house with Melody in Boston, he could have her.

I was officially opting out.

To ensure she couldn't try anything again, I changed my portal password. I had always used Connors birthdayit was entirely possible Melody had guessed it.

Finally, I pulled a suitcase from my closet and began packing. I booked a room at a boutique hotel downtown.

I refused to spend another night under the same roof as Melody. Who knew what kind of sociopathic stunt shed pull next?

This time, I wasn't going to prison.

I was escaping the Ellis family. I was starting over.

06

Carrying my suitcase downstairs, I had to walk past Melodys bedroom.

The door was left ajar. Inside, she was sitting on the edge of her mattress, her skirt hiked up to her knees.

Connor was kneeling on the floor in front of her, gently massaging her calf muscles.

"Is that feeling any better?" he asked softly.

Melodys ears flushed pink. She nodded shyly.

"The pain is fading. Thank you."

Connor smiled, a soft, indulgent expression I used to think belonged only to me.

"You don't have to thank me. You took that hit for me. It's the least I can do."

Melody looked down, her expression steeped in manufactured guilt.

"I'm so sorry. It's my fault you and my sister fought."

"Maybe I should just go to a state school here. I don't want to be the reason your relationship falls apart."

"If I get bullied in college, well... that's just my fate. I'll endure it."

Connor squeezed her knee comfortingly.

"You're not changing your plans. I promised I'd look out for you, and I keep my promises."

"None of this is your fault. Caroline is just being irrational."

"I guess I spoiled her too much. She thinks the world revolves around her."

"Maybe Wyatt was right. I need to leave her out in the cold for a while so she learns how to behave."

Wyatt. Connors arrogant, old-money best friend.

Wyatt had always hated me.

If Connor helped me with a project, Wyatt called me lazy.

If we went to a diner and I meticulously picked the green onions out of my soup because I loathed the taste, Wyatt called me high-maintenance.

If Connor lost track of time playing video games and missed my call, and we argued about it, Wyatt called me a controlling bitch.

He was constantly in Connors ear, telling him he could do better, urging him to dump me.

But back then, Connor would always shove him and shoot back:

"Shut the hell up. Caro isn't high-maintenance, she knows what she likes. It's cute."

"If she's mad at me, it's because I messed up. It's not her fault."

"You're just a miserable single guy whos jealous of what we have. Stay out of it."

That Connorthe fiercely loyal, deeply devoted boy who would fight anyone who spoke ill of mewas dead and gone.

The Connor sitting on the floor was Melodys knight in shining armor.

It was impossible not to grieve.

We had shared eighteen years of life. Eighteen years of inside jokes, shared trauma, and quiet promises.

Detoxing from him was going to hurt like hell.

My nose burned. I forced myself to look away, gripped the handle of my suitcase, and walked out the front door without looking back.

07

I lived in the downtown hotel for two weeks.

I didn't hear a word from Connor.

But I saw plenty of him on Melodys Instagram.

He took her to the summer carnival, riding the vintage carouselmy favorite ride.

He went shopping with her to pick out a dress for graduation.

He stood in line for two hours outside Rosenberg's to buy her a fresh, warm box of pastries.

He even took her to our spot. The stargazing hill overlooking the valley.

Whenever the grief over my mother became too much, Connor would drive me up there, roll out a blanket, and wed watch old movies on his iPad under the stars.

In the photo Melody posted, a romantic comedy was playing on a tablet.

Connor was leaning back against the hood of his car, looking relaxed.

Melody was leaning into his space, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

So this was his version of "repaying a debt."

I stared at the photos. I scrolled through them obsessively, almost masochistically, etching the reality of their intimacy into my brain.

It was a form of exposure therapy.

And it worked.

The agonizing, breathless pain in my chest slowly dulled, hardening into a cold, flat indifference.

...

Once I felt like I could breathe again, I texted a friend and agreed to meet up at a lounge downtown.

I was walking down the dimly lit hallway toward the restrooms when someone bumped roughly into my shoulder.

I stumbled, my heels catching on the carpet, and nearly went down.

A hand shot out and caught my elbow, steadying me.

"Thanks," I muttered, looking up.

I froze. Connor was standing there, looking down at me with an amused, patronizing smirk.

"See? You still need me to catch you."

His tone was incredibly casual, as if the last two weeks of silence and betrayal had never happened.

"Admit it, Caro. You can't survive without me."

My face remained entirely impassive. I pulled my arm out of his grip.

"Don't flatter yourself. I'd be perfectly fine without you."

Connor raised an eyebrow.

"You're seriously still holding a grudge? Two weeks later?"

"Caro, why are you so stubborn? Would it physically kill you to just back down once?"

He rubbed the bridge of his nose, exhaling heavily like a weary parent offering a truce.

"Fine. You win. I surrender."

"Let's just say I was wrong, okay? Let's make up. Stop giving me the silent treatment."

"We've never gone more than a week without seeing each other since we were kids. I actually missed you."

He reached out to pinch my cheek, a fond, easy smile spreading across his face.

"I don't know why you're fighting this. You look like you've lost weight since I stopped coming around."

"When you're done here, I'll drive you to that late-night diner. We'll get pancakes."

It was painfully obvious. He hadn't taken my breakup seriously at all. He genuinely believed this was just an extended pout.

I slapped his hand away. My voice was glacial.

"Do not touch me. We are broken up."

"I lost weight because it's ninety degrees outside and I haven't had much of an appetite. It has absolutely nothing to do with you. Stop being so narcissistic."

Seeing that his charm offensive was failing, Connors smile vanished, replaced by a cold edge.

"Caroline, enough is enough."

"I'm handing you an olive branch. How much longer are you going to drag this out?"