My Sister Hated Men Until She Fell for Mine

My sister, Stella, had a disastrous first love, which left her convinced that all men were trash.

The day I introduced Ethan to her, she didn't hold back.

She looked him up and down and said coldly,

He's just like every other guy. Eventually, he's going to betray you.

Under the table, I desperately tugged at the hem of her shirt.

But Ethan didn't get angry.

He looked straight into Stella's eyes and said, word for word,

"If I ever betray Maya, I hope I lose everything."

Stella only let out a scoff.

"We'll see about that."

After that day, the tension between them was ice-cold, leaving me awkwardly caught in the middle.

Later, I was sent away on a six-month business trip.

The night before I was scheduled to return, I was lying in bed, scrolling through an anonymous confession page on Instagram.

One post caught my eye:

I fell in love with my younger sister's boyfriend. What should I do?

The comment section was filled with absolute rage.

Then, I saw a reply from a burner account:

Please stop hating on her. It's not her fault. I was the one who pursued her.

She acts so tough on the outside, but she's incredibly fragile inside. The more she pushes me away, the more my heart breaks for her.

My finger froze. Instinctively, I clicked on the burner account's profile.

There was only one video on the pagea video of a cat.

Yet, a sudden chill washed over me, and I couldn't stop shaking.

That cat was Joy, the one Ethan had given me.

I zoomed in on the video, over and over.

I didn't want to miss a single detail.

But every single detail confirmed my worst nightmare.

It was the cat from our first anniversary.

On my birthday, Ethan had driven through a massive blizzard just to deliver her to my doorstep at midnight.

He told me her name was Joy.

He said he hoped she would bring joy to every single day of my life.

A wave of absurdity washed over me.

I could barely breathe.

I backed out of the profile.

I scrolled back to the very beginning of the confession post.

It was posted just an hour ago.

The first time we met, I hated him. I had been betrayed before, so I didn't trust men at all.

But he was so good to my sister. She has a sensitive stomach, so he kept a detailed note on his phone of what she could and couldn't eat.

Every time she worked late, no matter how midnight it was, he would always go pick her up.

He remembered every little thing she liked. His Instagram profile picture was even a matching couple photo of them.

I bit my lip so hard that the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.

Ethan had been so perfect to me.

He tracked my period cycle, always keeping Midol and heating pads in his backpack.

Once, when I was rolling in pain from cramps in the middle of the night, he booked the earliest flight just to bring me medicine.

Any passing comment I made, he would remember and make it happen the next day.

I had always felt like the luckiest girl in the world to have found the best man on earth.

With trembling hands, I kept scrolling.

Then my sister went on a business trip. She told me to call him if I needed anything, saying he was reliable. I told her I'd rather die than call him.

One night, there was a violent thunderstorm, and the power in my apartment went out. The lightbulb shattered. I'm terrified of the dark, and the landlord didn't pick up my calls.

In a panic, I found the number my sister left me and called him.

Thirty minutes later, he showed up at my door, completely drenched. He smiled and said, 'So you do have a weak spot after all.'

In that exact moment, something shifted in my heart.

I remembered that night.

Ethan used to tell me everything.

When we FaceTimed that night, he had brought it up himself.

"Your sister acts like she's fearless, but she's actually terrified of the dark."

He talked about Stella for a long time.

He smiled as he spoke.

There was a strange, gentle warmth in his laugh.

I didn't think much of it back then. I even told him to make sure he helped her whenever she needed it.

After that, whenever things broke in the apartment, my first instinct was to call him.

We started seeing each other more often, and I realized I didn't hate him anymore.

He started waiting for me to get off work. We went grocery shopping and watched movies together.

He even learned how to cook my favorite meals. Just like he did for my sister, he made a list of my likes and dislikes on his phone.

I told him it felt wrong that he was texting me with a profile picture of him and my sister. He changed it instantly.

My feelings for him are getting so complicated.

That profile picture was the very first photo he took of me when we started dating.

I remembered teasing him back then.

"Aren't you embarrassed to use my photo? People will laugh at you."

He had pinched my cheek, looking so proud.

"My girlfriend is beautiful. Of course I want the whole world to know."

He had kept that picture for five years. No matter what anyone said, he never changed it.

The day he finally did, I asked him why.

He said it was for work.

And I believed him.

It turned out it was all because of a single word from Stella.

Tears splashed onto my screen, blurring the text.

We went to the movies tonight. At the end, he suddenly turned to me and asked, 'Do you like me?'

I could hear my own heart hammering. Then I heard him say, 'I wish I had met you first, Stella.'

I lost control. I kissed him, and he didn't pull away.

I feel disgusted with myself. How could I do this to my own sister? But I can't stop loving him.

She comes back tomorrow. I don't know how to face her.

My stomach churned, and a wave of nausea hit me.

I leaned over the edge of the bed and dry-heaved, but nothing came out.

When our parents died in that car crash, I was eight, and Stella was thirteen.

Stella was the one who went to all my parent-teacher conferences. She was the one who braided my hair.

When I got my first period, Stella was the one who bought pads and taught me what to do.

Other kids talked about their moms and dads.

But for me, it was always Stella.

When I introduced Ethan to her, I wanted her approval so badly.

To me, she was more of a parent than anyone else.

But now...

The person I shared blood with, and the person I loved most.

They had been doing this behind my back.

My heart felt like it was being ripped apart. I curled up on the bed, sobbing in the dark.

The confession post was going viral.

The comments were getting more brutal by the second.

This is sick. Stealing your own sister's boyfriend? What a parasite.

I feel so sorry for the sister. Betrayed by her own flesh and blood and her boyfriend? This is a living nightmare.

'Can't stop loving him'? Go to hell. And this guy is absolute trash!

Under every single hateful comment, Ethan had replied.

She is in more pain than anyone. She hates herself more than you ever could. You have no right to judge her.

Yes, I'm trash. But even as trash, I will protect her.

If I had met her first, I would have chosen her.

And the latest update on the post was from a minute ago.

You're all right. I'm disgusting. I'm going to cut him off. I can't lose my sister.

My phone slipped from my hand, clattering onto the hardwood floor.

Just yesterday, I was counting down the hours to come home.

Now, I had no idea how to face them.

Outside, the city lights were blinding. I didn't sleep a wink.

After hours of painful agonizing, I dragged my suitcase to the airport anyway.

A text from Stella popped up right on time.

Maya, I'm waiting for you at the arrivals gate.

Ethan's text came a minute before my flight boarded.

Safe flight, Maya. Can't wait to see you.

This was his only message since our rushed phone call last night.

In the past, he would have called me thirty minutes early to wake me up.

He would nag me about not forgetting my ID, my bags, and to make sure I ate breakfast.

Then, he would spam me with texts the entire trip to make sure I was safe.

But now, there was only one short sentence.

I didn't reply.

I turned off my phone and closed my eyes.

When the plane landed, I saw Stella and Ethan waiting at the exit.

They stood on opposite sides, at least six feet apart.

Acting like strangers.

Stella's makeup was heavy, almost completely hiding any signs of crying.

She was always like thatnever showing any vulnerability.

Even to me.

Ethan didn't run up to hug me like he usually did.

He forced a natural-looking smile and pulled a bouquet of flowers from behind his back.

"Welcome home, Maya."

When he handed me the flowers, both Stella and I froze.

He was holding white roses.

Those were Stella's favorite.

I fought with everything I had to keep my face neutral.

I was the one who had told him Stella only liked white roses.

I only liked baby's breath. For five years, he had never gotten it wrong.

He suddenly realized what he was holding.

Panic flashed in his eyes, and he quickly tried to cover it up.

"I was in such a rush this morning, I didn't even notice I grabbed the wrong bouquet. I'll get you a much bigger one later."

As he spoke, his eyes instinctively darted toward Stella.

Stella didn't look at him. She stepped forward and took my suitcase.

"Come on. Let me take you out for a nice lunch."

In the past, the three of us would have gone to grab a massive meal.

But those words from the confession post kept screaming in my head.

I forced a tight smile.

"You guys go ahead. I have to head straight to the office."

Ethan stepped forward.

"I can drive you there."

"No!"

The rejection came out sharper than I intended.

Both Ethan and Stella frowned, confusion and suspicion written all over their faces.

I lowered my head, took my suitcase back from Stella, and tried to keep my voice steady.

"My manager is waiting for my report. I won't be home until later."

Their expressions softened. Stella smiled.

"Okay. I'll cook your favorite dinner tonight."

Ethan offered a gentle smile. "Call me when you're done. I'll come pick you up."

I nodded.

I turned and practically ran out of the airport, hailing a cab to the office.

Outside the window, the familiar streets blurred past.

I had lived in this city for twenty-five years.

Every corner held a memory of them.

That steakhouse on 5th Street.

Stella always lectured me about my sensitive stomach, refusing to let me eat anything too spicy, forcing me to drink milk.

That boba shop on Broadway.

Ethan had waited in line for three hours just to get me a limited-edition cat mug.

And the cinema downtown.

The three of us used to buy tickets for late-night shows, then walk back slowly under the streetlights.

We would argue about the plot.

Stella would always tear Ethan's opinions to shreds.

Ethan would raise his hands in surrender, laughing and saying, "My bad, my bad."

Then he would lean in close to my ear and whisper,

"Your sister is terrifying."

Those days were so happy.

When I snapped back to reality, my face was drenched in tears.

The cab driver glanced at me through the rearview mirror.

"Hey, kiddo. Nothing in this life is worth crying that hard over. Keep your chin up."

I let out an embarrassed laugh.

"Thanks." I wiped my tears away.

When we arrived at the office, I paid and got out.

Looking up at the glass building, I took a deep breath.

During my six-month trip, I had been temporarily assigned to a regional project.

Because of my performance, my manager had offered to put me on a secret three-year project overseas.

I had turned it down.

Because Ethan said he wanted to get married.

Before I left, he told me that as soon as I got back, we would start looking at houses.

Well, I didn't need to look at houses anymore.

But I definitely needed that project.

I walked into the office. My manager, Mr. Vance, was just coming out of a conference room with a stack of files.

He stopped when he saw me.

"Maya? I thought you weren't back until tomorrow."

"I got an earlier flight," I said, forcing a smile.

"Mr. Vance, about that overseas assignment... I want to apply for it."

His eyes lit up.

"Really? I tried to convince you for months, and you wouldn't budge."

"Are you sure about this?"

Was I sure?

To be honest, even now, I couldn't fully believe that Stella and Ethan had betrayed me.

But I knew some things didn't need to be understood.

They just had to be accepted.

I nodded.

Mr. Vance's expression turned serious.

"This is a highly confidential project, Maya. You'll be stationed overseas for three years. No trips home, and extremely limited contact with anyone back here. Can you handle that?"

"Yes. I can leave tomorrow morning."

It was 10 PM by the time I finally walked out of the building.

Ethan was leaning against his car, smoking.

A pile of cigarette butts littered the ground around his feet.

The orange glow of the cherry lit up his face, highlighting his deep frown.

In our five years of dating, I had only seen him smoke twice.

The first time was the year we graduated. His parents wanted him to move back to his hometown.

But I wanted to stay with Stella.

Ethan had smoked cigarette after cigarette back then, just like he was doing now.

In the end, he chose me.

And now? What choice was he making?

I didn't want to think about it.

Seeing me, he immediately crushed the cigarette, walked over, and took my bag.

"First day back and they make you work this late? Your company is slave-driving you."

"Just had a lot of data to go through," I lied.

He opened the passenger door, and I slid in.

A faint scent of perfume hit my nose.

My body went completely rigid.

It was Stella's favorite perfume.

I looked down. Right there, wedged in the gap of the seat, was a lip balm.

It was the one I had bought for Stella last month.

Ethan got into the driver's seat. He saw me staring at the lip balm and froze.

The car fell into a suffocating silence for two long seconds.

Then, he laughed.

"Oh, Stella must have dropped that when I gave her a ride earlier. I'll give it back to her."

I stared at the lip balm.

"Did Stella sit in the passenger seat a lot while I was gone?"

His hand froze on the seatbelt.

He turned to look at me, his eyes dark and unreadable.

Then, he reached out, ruffled my hair, and chuckled.

"What, are you jealous of your own sister now? Cute."

I didn't laugh.

His tone became serious.

"You're the one who wanted us to get along, Maya. I only drove her around occasionally."

He paused, then added,

"If it bothers you, I won't do it again."

"I'm tired," I said, closing my eyes. I didn't want to hear another word.

He stared at me for a few seconds before starting the car.

"Did you... see anything online last night?"

I opened my eyes and looked at him.

"See what?"

He remained quiet for a moment, then smiled.

"Nothing. You just seem off today. Your eyes are really red."

I closed my eyes again.

"I was too excited last night. Didn't sleep at all."

He started the engine, shaking his head with a soft chuckle.

"Still a kid."

He reached over and turned up the thermostat. The car got noticeably warmer.

Whenever Stella rode with us, she always wanted the heater on high.

She hated the cold.

When we got home, Stella was already waiting at the door.

"You must be starving! Wash your hands, dinner's ready."

I walked in. The table was packed with all my favorite foods.

I sat in my usual spot.

Stella sat on my left, and Ethan sat on my right.

Both of them immediately put food on my plate at the same time.

"Maya, your favorite garlic parmesan chicken."

"And the spicy wings."

For a second, I felt like I was back in the past.

But reality pulled me right back.

Everything was broken.

A thousand questions bubbled up in my throat.

I saw the post.

Why did you do it?

But as the words reached my lips, I lost my nerve.

I couldn't ask.

The dinner tasted like cardboard.

Finally, Stella raised her glass.

"Maya, I want to make a toast."

She drank her first glass.

"Welcome home."

"Second, to your promotion."

Then, she looked at Ethan.

"And third. You two have been together for five years. I know I used to be against it, but I'm not anymore. You should pick a date and get married."