She Only Wanted to Be His Bro, So I Gave Her Exactly That

My sister loved playing one of the boys.

She spent her days bossing her bros around, making them buy her tampons and even wash her underwear.

At their engagement party, Thomas held out the ring to her.

She laughed right in front of the room full of guests.

Thomas, are you seriously still doing this?

"I think of you as my bro, and you want to marry me? That is so gross."

Everyone in the hall froze, but she did not seem to care at all.

After all, Thomas had been in love with her since they were kids.

She assumed that this time, like the countless times before, he would swallow his pride and beg for her forgiveness.

But Thomas just stayed silent for a few seconds, then snapped the velvet ring box shut.

Then he turned his gaze to me, sitting quietly in the corner.

"Amy Newall, will you marry me?"

I walked up to the stage.

Cindy pulled my arm, whispering, "Amy, you are not well. Do not push yourself."

That old excuse again.

But this time, I was not backing down.

I let out a soft laugh, shook off her hand, and stood right in front of Thomas.

"I will do it."

My dad let out a visible sigh of relief.

Cindy's face completely fell.

"Amy, have you lost your mind?"

I looked her in the eyes.

"Didn't you say marriage is outdated and suffocating?"

"You cannot call it trash and then get mad when someone else cleans it up, can you?"

Cindy's jaw tightened, completely speechless.

Thomas, however, smiled.

He took the microphone and spoke clearly to the crowd.

"Great. The Harrison Group formally chooses Amy Newall."

The spotlights that were supposed to shine on Cindy now fell entirely on me.

Cindy stood a few feet away, crossing her arms with a cold sneer.

She was not genuinely panicked yet.

She thought Thomas was just trying to make her jealous.

After all, for years, all she had to do was shrug and say, "Come on, bro, do not be mad," and Thomas would always run back to her.

In the car on the way home, the silence was suffocating.

Cindy was the first to break it.

"I had no idea, Amy."

"You play the quiet, fragile sister so well, but you sure move fast when it is time to steal something."

I looked out the window at the passing city lights.

"Didn't you say you did not want him?"

She choked on her words.

I continued, "You told everyone he was your brother. People do not marry their brothers."

"I am just helping you respect the sacred bond of brotherhood. Why are you so upset?"

Cindy turned pale.

My mother immediately jumped in to defend her.

"Amy, stop taking digs at your sister. She was just speaking without thinking tonight."

"Speaking without thinking almost cost us the Harrison Group's entire investment."

My father frowned. "Amy!"

I turned to look at him.

"Dad, I am just stating facts."

The car fell silent again.

Cindy suddenly smiled, softening her tone.

"I did not want to marry him because I refuse to be trapped in a domestic cage."

"But you are different."

"You have been sickly since you were a kid. You cannot handle the high-pressure world of the Harrison family."

"I am only looking out for you."

I was so tired of hearing that.

Looking out for me.

Is that why she secretly changed my college major application?

Is that why she rejected career opportunities on my behalf?

Is that why she stole my project proposal and put her own name on it?

I pulled my tablet from my bag, unlocked it, and opened a folder.

I turned the screen toward them.

"Is this what you call looking out for me?"

On the screen was a detailed log of every single time my life had been sabotaged since childhood.

I swiped through them slowly.

The only sound in the car was the heavy breathing of my parents.

My mother's expression grew incredibly tense.

"Why on earth are you keeping a record of this?"

I looked at her.

"Because I realized that without hard evidence, my side of the story is always treated as a lie."

Cindy finally sat up straight.

"Do you honestly think I stole your opportunities?"

"Didn't you?" I asked.

Her eyes welled with tears.

"I shielded you from those things because I was afraid the stress would make you sick!"

"Did you ever bother to ask me what I wanted?"

She froze.

"When did I ever say I did not want to go?" I asked. "When did I ever give you permission to rewrite my life?"

"Cindy, stop calling your greed 'protection.'"

My dad glared at me. "We are a family. Do not use such ugly words."

I smiled.

"Dad, it is called being clear."

"And it is about time we settled the books in this family."

Cindy gritted her teeth. "So you planned this whole thing tonight."

"But Amy, you are dead wrong. Thomas only wants me."

"He only proposed to you tonight to get under my skin."

I did not bother to reply, but deep down, I was absolutely certain.

This time, I was going to win.

The next day, the joint press release from the Harrison Group and the Newall Group went viral.

In the official photo, I stood next to Thomas, holding the signed contract.

The comment section went wild.

Some people loved the drama of a last-minute bride swap in a high-profile merger.

Others asked if Cindy had run away from her own wedding.

And someone even turned her "who marries their bro" quote into a viral clip, plastered with laughing emojis.

Cindy stayed locked in her room.

But she was highly active on social media.

"Some people really love picking up the scraps."

"Taking a joke way too seriously."

"Just because bros are having a fight does not mean an outsider gets to cut the line."

I ignored it all.

That afternoon, Thomas invited me to his office to discuss the project.

When I walked in, he was reviewing the risk assessment part of the proposal I had brought the night before.

He flipped to the page and looked up at me.

"Did you write this part?"

"Yes."

"Cindy showed me a very similar version a while ago."

I paused.

He added flatly, "But she could not explain any of the data when I asked."

I did not know whether to laugh or feel bitter.

So, it was not that no one noticed.

It was just that no one had ever called her out before.

Thomas closed the folder.

"Amy, there is something we need to make clear before we go any further."

I looked at him. "Go ahead."

"I used to love Cindy."

He was brutally honest.

"It was not a casual crush like the rumors say. I genuinely wanted a future with her."

My fingers tightened slightly around my purse.

He continued, "And I let her get away with a lot because I thought she was just afraid of commitment."

"But last night, she used my family and our business partners as props to prove how edgy and different she is."

"I am not playing her games anymore."

The office was completely quiet.

"Are you telling me this because you want me to step down?" I asked.

"No." Thomas looked at me.

"I'm telling you this so you know you are not walking into a clean, simple relationship."

"If that bothers you, you can walk away right now."

I was silent for a moment.

"Thomas, I did not sign that contract because I am in love with you either."

"I did it because I want my name, my career, and my rightful place."

"I do not care who you loved in the past."

"But from this moment on, if I am going to be your fiance, I expect you to maintain the boundaries of a fianc."

A flash of surprise crossed his eyes.

Then, he smiled.

"Deal."

He pushed another document toward me.

"Let's put those boundaries in writing."

One clause stood out clearly:

During the engagement, both parties shall maintain a united public front. Neither party shall engage in flirtatious behavior with third parties or tolerate ambiguous relationships that could damage the partnership.

I signed it.

Thomas signed it right after.

As the pen left the paper, I found it almost funny.

Other couples rely on vows.

We rely on legally binding clauses.

But clauses are better.

At least when they are written down, nobody can pretend they forgot.

That evening, Cindy crashed a gathering with Thomas's friends.

Wearing a black leather motorcycle jacket, she walked in and tried to slide into the seat right next to Thomas, just like she always did.

But I had already placed my designer bag on that seat.

"Cindy, the boys' table is over there," I said, pointing to the other side of the room.

That table was packed with the guys from their social circle.

One of them laughed. "Hey, Cindy! Come on over, the real bro table is here!"

Cindy's face stiffened.

"Amy, do not be childish."

I kept my expression perfectly serious.

"You said it yourself. You and Thomas are just bros."

"Bros sit at the bro table. What is the issue?"

She looked at Thomas.

Her eyes held that familiar, practiced look of wounded innocence.

In the past, that look had worked every single time.

But Thomas did not even look up. He simply handed me the menu.

"What do you feel like eating?"

Cindy stood frozen for what felt like an eternity before finally stomping over to the guys' table.

I pulled out my phone and created a group chat.

Group name: Thomas's Bro-Zone Management.

I added Cindy and every guy in the room.

"Since you are all bros, please post in this group if anyone gets drunk, has car trouble, or needs to vent."

"Let's avoid calling my fianc individually in the middle of the night."

The entire room went dead silent.

Cindy stared at me across the table.

"Don't you think you are overstepping?"

Thomas set his glass down.

"It is not overstepping. It is called boundaries."

He looked directly at Cindy.

"From now on, use the group chat if you need something."

Cindy's eyes immediately welled with tears.

"Thomas, seriously? You are doing this to me?"

His voice was completely flat.

"Yes."

"I let things slide in the past, which gave you the wrong impression. I won't make that mistake again."

At that moment, the proud, untouchable facade Cindy had built for herself finally cracked.

But she still did not believe it.

She convinced herself that Thomas was just putting on a show.

She thought that if she just pushed a little harder, he would eventually come crawling back.

The wedding planning meeting was held at the Harrison headquarters.

Cindy arrived even earlier than I did.

She was sitting on Thomas's left, her legs crossed, acting as if she still owned the place.

Thomas walked into the conference room and took one look at her.

"Cindy, that seat is reserved for my fiance."

Her face flushed.

I walked over and sat down.

The wedding planning agency began going through the schedule.

Press conference, media Q&A, project signing, engagement ceremony, family dinner.

The coordinator asked for the list of bridesmaids and groomsmen.

Cindy suddenly spoke up.

"I am not doing the bridesmaid thing."

She leaned back in her chair, her tone lazy and dismissive.

"I do not do dresses, and I do not care for girly traditions."

"Just put me in Thomas's groomsmen lineup."

I nodded.

"Sure, that works."

She blinked, caught off guard.

I turned to the coordinator. "Put Cindy in the groomsmen lineup."

"Make her outfit a black tailored suit."

"She stands with the guys."

"And reserve three minutes for her speech. The topic is: Wishing My Bro a Happy Engagement."

Someone in the room muffled a laugh.

Cindy glared at me.

"Amy, are you intentionally trying to humiliate me?"

I raised my eyes to meet hers.

"Didn't you choose the bro label yourself?"

She gritted her teeth.

"I am not like them."

"How so?"

She could not answer.

I continued, "You are a member of the bride's family, so you could sit in the family section."

"Or you can stand with the groomsmen as his bro."

"What exact identity do you want to have next to Thomas?"

The conference room fell into a dead silence.

My mother quickly spoke up. "Amy, do not talk to your sister like that. She is just being her usual candid self."

Thomas flipped through the itinerary and said coolly, "Contracts and schedules do not care about being candid. They only care about designated roles."

Cindy's face turned white.

This was what she feared most.

Because once her role was clearly defined, she could no longer use the bro excuse to demand romantic ambiguity, nor could she use her status as a woman to demand special treatment.

After the meeting, she cornered me in the hallway.

"Amy, do you actually think you have won?"

I looked at her and raised an eyebrow. "Have I not?"

She sneered.

"Do you have any idea how long Thomas has loved me?"

"In high school, I mentioned a stomach ache once, and he ran through a thunderstorm to bring me medicine."

"In college, when I got into an argument with someone, he literally caught the next flight back from abroad just to stand by me."

"That motorcycle I rode for my birthday? He spent six months on a waiting list just to buy it for me."

Her voice grew more confident.

"He is just angry right now."

"He is mad that I would not say yes, so he is using you to hurt me."

"Do not flatter yourself."

I did not say a word.

Thinking she had finally intimidated me, she stepped closer, lowering her voice.

"Believe it or not, all it takes is for me to say I regret it, and he will come running back to me in a heartbeat."

I looked at her, and suddenly, I could not help but laugh.

"Cindy."

"Why do you assume people will wait around in the exact same spot forever?"

Her expression darkened.

"Because he loves me."

Just then, Thomas walked out of the conference room.

Cindy's eyes instantly welled with tears.

"Thomas, I really did not mean it that way at the party."

"I was just overwhelmed when you suddenly proposed to her."

"Stop using Amy to get back at me, please?"

She offered the apology casually, with the same easy confidence she had used to pacify him a hundred times before.

But Thomas did not move.

"Cindy," he said. "I am not using anyone to get back at you."

"Amy is my wife."

Cindy froze.

"Your wife?"

She looked at me, letting out a sharp laugh as if she had just heard the most ridiculous joke.

"Your engagement ceremony has not even happened. Who are you trying to fool?"

I reached into my designer bag, pulled out two official marriage certificates, and held them up in front of her.

The photos showed Thomas and me sitting side-by-side, smiling.

The red official seal was perfectly clear.

The date of registration was this morning.

"Cindy, if you truly believe he is still in love with you," I said calmly, "why don't you try convincing him to divorce me first?"