She Saved Her Brother, And Lost Her Husband Forever

My wife was known as the goddess of pure love. In the three years we were married, she only allowed hugs, kisses and sleeping in each other's arms.

She always said that true love meant resisting temptation, which tested my sincerity.

But then, at my birthday party, everything changed. She was pressed against the sink by her foster brother, gasping for breath.

She whispered, "Don't worry, brother. I've never let him touch me. My heart has always been yours."

Her foster brother's grip tightened around her waist, his breath ragged.

"Then isn't he useless as a man? Girl, you're wicked."

Isabella Moore chuckled softly. "He deserved it. He pushed me into marrying him, angering you to leave the country."

The sting cut deep. I turned off my phone, walked out of the hotel quietly, no sound to mark my exit.

On the way home, I called Vincent Moore, her father.

"Uncle Vincent, the three years are up. Can I leave now?"

"It's been three years, River. Are you really saying you haven't developed any feelings for Isabella?"

A long, weary sigh came from the other end of the line.

I stayed silent.

How could I not?

In the three years we'd been married, even though she never shared my bed, her actions had been those of a woman deeply in love.

She bought us matching couple items, pouting playfully and saying, "One for you, one for me."

Even though her work kept her busy, she never returned from a business trip without a gift for me.

She never missed a holiday, always throwing a grand party for my birthday.

Her kindness was the talk of our circle.

And that's exactly why, even though I knew our marriage was a mere transaction, I couldn't help but give her my heart, piece by piece.

But now I saw it all for what it was: nothing but a well-played game, a calculated act of revenge.

If that was the case, then I would take back what I had foolishly given her: my heart.

I remained silent and Uncle Vincent took my silence as confirmation. After a long, heavy pause, he sighed again.

"Alright. Since you're insistent, I'll keep my word. I'll arrange for your departure in half a month. But we must keep this from Isabella. She's so taken with you right now; if she finds out the truth, I fear she'll lose her mind."

I curled my lips into a faint, ironic smile.

Isabella? Lose her mind? Her heart had never truly belonged to me.

She had deceived everyone, but I had no intention of exposing her.

When I got home, I sank onto the sofa, the hours slipping by until nightfall.

Isabella returned, her arms slipping around me from behind the back of the sofa. Her voice was soft and playful, like a kitten coaxing affection.

"Hubby, why did you leave so suddenly? You didn't answer my calls. Did I do something wrong?"

"No, I just suddenly felt a bit"

As I spoke, I turned my head to look at her, only to freeze. My eyes caught the dark red marks on her neck and my breath hitched in my throat.

Isabella didn't notice anything unusual. She nuzzled her cheek against mine, her voice soft.

"Hmm? You just felt a bit what?"

I forced a smile, my words barely escaping.

"A bit unwell."

She tensed, pulling away from me instantly. Her hand flew to my forehead, her gaze scanning my face with concern.

"How come you're suddenly sick? What's wrong? I'll take you to the hospital."

Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed my hand, ready to drag me out the door.

I gently pulled her back toward the couch. "No need. It was just a headache. I'm feeling better now."

"Really?"

Her eyes narrowed with suspicion.

Seeing the reassurance in my smile, she leaned in to kiss me, her lips brushing close.

"I have a surprise for you tonight, okay?"

I turned my head slightly, avoiding her kiss.

She paused, looking at me in confusion. I offered a faint smile in response.

"Did you drink a lot tonight? Go take a shower."

Isabella sniffed her sleeve, then chuckled as if trying to cover up something she hadn't quite caught.

"Alright, I'll go take a shower. Wait for me, okay?"

I watched as Isabella happily walked toward the bathroom, the smile on my face slowly fading away.

Sorry, Isabella. This would be the last time I waited for you.

When she returned, fresh from the shower, she found me already deep in sleep. She muttered something under her breath, then, as always, wrapped her arms around my waist and drifted off beside me.

What had once been a position that filled me with warmth now felt stifling, even suffocating.

The next morning, before we were fully awake, a loud knock at the bedroom door startled us.

Isabella frowned, then, with a tenderness I didn't deserve, she tucked the blanket around me and went to open the door.

Outside, Dash Moore pushed past her, his eyes immediately locking on me. His expression twisted with both fury and pain.

He gritted his teeth, glaring at Isabella with barely contained resentment before letting out a cold snort and turning to leave.

"Brother?"

Isabella lifted her foot, eager to chase after Dash, but then her eyes softened and she pulled it back. She turned to me, her gaze filled with something unreadable.

"Darling, my brother's probably upset. You should rest a little longer. I'll go check on him."

Before I could say a word, she was already rushing out, a little too eager to leave.

With all the commotion, sleep was a distant thought. I rose, made breakfast and tidied up the kitchen, the movements almost mechanical.

When I headed downstairs with the trash, a thought crossed my mind. I decided to take the fire escape, seeking a bit of fresh air to clear my mind.

But the moment my fingers grazed the doorknob, Dash's voice stopped me. His words were heavy, laden with frustration.

"Isabella, you're such a liar. Just yesterday, you told me you've stayed pure for me and now today, you're sharing a bed with him?"

Isabella's sigh was soft, almost like a laugh tinged with helplessness.

"Brother, don't be ridiculous. River and I are legally married. If we slept in separate beds, people would talk."

"But believe me, I've never let him touch me. We only sleep beside each other," she added, her voice laced with a false sense of innocence.

Dash let out a cold, dismissive snort. "I don't care. Even lying beside each other is unacceptable. I'm not happy about it."

Isabella's voice trembled as she responded, "Alright, alright. Then what do you want me to do, hmm?"

His response was sharp, his tone possessive. "I want Isabella to stay with me for a whole month. You can only sleep next to your brother."

Isabella hesitated, her lips parting with a soft "hmm" before his aggressive, demanding kisses pulled her under his control.

"Come on, say it. Yes or no? If you don't agree, I'll kiss your lips until they're swollen."

"Okay, okay, I'll figure something out. Don't be so rough; your sister still has to face people, you know."

The tension in the room tightened and unable to bear their lovey-dovey exchange any longer, I released the door handle and silently retreated to the elevator.

Upstairs, Isabella was already sitting at the dining table, eating the breakfast I had made. She glanced up when I entered, her face filled with guilt.

"Darling, there's a business trip out of town. The client is really difficult and Briar and the others can't handle it. I have to go; it might take a month."

I froze for a moment, taken aback by her excuse.

In the first year of our marriage, she had gone on a three-day business trip. I ended up hospitalized with a gastric bleed, left alone, with no one there to care for me.

When she came back and found out, she immediately declared to the company that she'd never go on another business trip. She would rather give up on out-of-town clients than be away from me for even a day.

That was the moment she became famous for having a "love brain."

Now, with her true love back, it was no surprise that she had conveniently forgotten all those things she once pretended to care about.

I nodded at her, the weight of the situation settling over me. "Then I'll pack your luggage."

As I opened the suitcase that hadn't been seen in a long time, a sketch slipped out.

I picked it up; it was the draft of the ring I was currently wearing. Inside the setting of the diamond, two letters were hidden: DI.

The designer of that ring? Dash.

A chill ran through me and my fingers trembled uncontrollably.

So, over the past three years, I hadn't just been a shield for the two of them; I'd been the silent vessel carrying the weight of their so-called love.

Footsteps echoed quickly from the hallway. I folded the design sketch without hesitation and slipped it into the hidden compartment of the suitcase.

Moments later, the door creaked open. Isabella's eyes flicked toward the suitcase, anxiety flashing across her face.

"Hubby, you didn't see anything, did you?"

I looked at her calmly, wearing a mask of confusion.

"See what?"

She gave a sheepish laugh, trying too hard to sound light.

"Oh, nothing. Let me help you pack."

Once the luggage was zipped shut, she clung to me at the doorway like a child afraid of the dark, dragging out the farewell with misty eyes and soft pleas. Only after her tearful performance did she finally walk away.

As soon as the door closed behind her, I slipped off the ring and placed it gently into its box. The pale impression it left on my finger stared back at me like a quiet wound.

It's alright, I told myself. All scars fade with time, some slower than others.

Not long after Isabella left, her mother showed up unannounced.

The moment she spoke, her words knocked the breath out of me.

"River, are you suddenly planning to leave because of Dash?"

I couldn't bring myself to say yes, but I didn't have it in me to say no either.

My silence seemed to weigh heavier than any words could. Her sigh, long and weary, sounded even more burdened than Vincent's had ever been.

"To be honest," she began softly, "we owe you an apology."

She looked away, her voice laced with guilt.

"Three years ago, her father and I started noticing how close Isabella and Dash had become. It is too close, closer than siblings should be. So we thought, maybe if someone else came into the picture, it'd shift things back to where they should've been."

She paused for a breath as though the memory itself drained her.

"They're not blood-related, but they grew up under the same roof. And if we'd allowed those feelings to fester, forget the Moore Family's name, the rumours alone would've destroyed them. They were too young to understand what love really means."

"That's why we pushed you to marry Isabella. Even when Dash ran off in anger, we let him go. We thought it was the only way to help them let go of those feelings."

She looked at me then, eyes rimmed with regret.

"These past three years, watching you and Isabella, seeing how you treated her like she was your whole world, we really believed we'd made the right choice. But now Dash is back and it's like everything we tried to bury is clawing its way up again."

As she spoke, she reached out and gently took my hand. Her palm was warm and steady as if trying to comfort both of us.

"River, you claim you never had feelings for Isabella. That might fool her father, but it doesn't fool me. The way you look at her, those eyes don't lie."

Her thumb brushed over the back of my hand and her voice dropped to something more tender.

"I honestly believe Isabella has feelings for you too. If she didn't, would she have treated you the way she did these past three years? Always shielding you, always thinking of you first? That kind of devotion doesn't come from nothing."

Just then, my phone buzzed twice, cutting through the stillness like a stone tossed into calm water.

I glanced at the screen. A message from Isabella lit it up like a flame that refused to die.

[Hubby, have you eaten? I miss you so much. Do you miss me?]

Samantha's eyes sparkled as she caught a glimpse. Her smile widened.

"See? Didn't I tell you? She does care for you more than you think."

Before her voice even faded into silence, a notification lit up my screen.

It was a social media post, an update from Dash's alternate account.

[Damn weather! I finally got to take my beloved sister to see the cherry blossoms. What happened? The sky tricks them into blooming early, only for them to fall within three days. We missed it completely. So heartbroken!]

The photo attached stung more than the words: two hands intertwined beneath a rain-kissed cherry blossom tree, its petals already scattered like broken promises.

Samantha's face darkened the moment she saw it. Her eyes locked onto the screen and froze on the delicate watch and wedding ring wrapped around Isabella's wrist.

"This wicked girl"

I didn't speak. What was the point? Scenes like these had become a routine, repeated enough to numb me.

She let out a sigh that carried the weight of too many regrets.

"River, if you truly want to leave. I won't stand in your way. But at least give Isabella and yourself one last chance."

I stayed quiet. But somewhere deep in my mind, a memory stirred.

The first spring of our marriage, Isabella had once taken me across provinces, just to chase the cherry blossoms.

She once told me that people online believed that if you truly loved someone, you should take them to see the most breathtaking cherry blossoms. That way, the image of that person beneath the blooms would be etched into your heart forever, never to fade, never to be replaced.

That day, the skies were clear, the breeze just right. She stood under the blossoming canopy, her hand reaching out to me, her smile brighter than spring itself.

My heart skipped a beat. I reached out without thinking, drawn to her as naturally as breath to lungs.

I didn't know if I'd ever made it into her heart that day. But she had already carved herself deep into mine.

While I stood adrift in the memory, Samantha's voice kept echoing at the edge of my awareness. Her words blurred until suddenly, a sentence yanked me back to the present.

"In the face of life and death, true feelings always surface. Your father-in-law and I are planning a little trip at sea for the four of you. There'll be a staged accident, just a brief moment where you and Dash fall overboard. But don't worry, we'll have professional divers standing by. No one will actually get hurt."

"If Isabella chooses to save you, then you stay. Become the cherished son-in-law of our family. But if she chooses Dash, our divers will pull you out quietly. From that moment on, she'll believe you drowned and we'll bless her and Dash."

I stood there for a long moment, frozen like stone, before finally giving a slow nod.

After Samantha left, I drifted into the bedroom. My hand reached for a book on the shelf, worn from years of rereading. Slipped between the pages was an old photo, one I hadn't dared look at in a while.

In it, Isabella tilted her head toward me, her smile as radiant as spring sunshine. Her eyes sparkled with joy, unaware of the storm that would someday come.

As for me, I looked straight into the lens. A stiff smile tugged at my lips, but my eyes betrayed me. There was fear in them, nerves I hadn't known how to hide.

My gaze lowered to the quote printed faintly in the corner, once my favorite line:

"Anyone standing under the cherry tree looks beautiful; my love burns brightly for whoever stands there."

But now, that line felt like a cruel joke written just for me.

I picked up the photo, closed the book with quiet finality and stepped into the study. The shredder whirred to life. I let the photo slip from my fingers, watching it vanish into ribbons.

Ten days later, Isabella was called home under the guise of a family dinner.

To keep things discreet, she and Dash didn't even arrive together; they slipped into the house separately, like strangers pretending they weren't bound by secrets.

The moment she laid eyes on me, Isabella rushed into my arms without a second's hesitation.

"Honey, I missed you so much. These days apart on that business trip were unbearable."

I lifted a hand between us, quietly stopping her. "Be more proper. Mom and Dad are watching."

Only then did she reluctantly loosen her grip, though her fingers still clung to mine like a lifeline.

Only God knew how long Dash had been standing by the door. He finally walked in, eyes sharp with cold disdain. He brushed past us with a scoff, his presence colder than the sea breeze.

Isabella frowned. "Honey, don't mind him. My brother's just childish."

I nodded with a smile that didn't quite reach my eyes.

Of course, I didn't take it seriously. I didn't need to, not anymore.

During dinner, Vincent casually brought up the idea of a boat trip after the meal. Neither Isabella nor Dash had any objections.

As we stood on the pier, right before stepping aboard the yacht, I looked down at Isabella's hand in mine. That question, the one I'd buried deep, finally rose to the surface.

"If Dash and I both fell into the sea," I asked softly, "who would you save first?"

She turned back with a playful smile and tapped the tip of my nose.

"Of course, I'd save my husband. My brother can swim just fine."

I smiled, though something inside me tightened.

Isabella, liars always paid the price.

The yacht sailed steadily into deeper waters, its wake vanishing beneath the endless blue.

On the first level, Vincent and Isabella were fishing, their laughter occasionally drifting up with the sea breeze. I made my way to the second deck, letting the wind brush across my face as I stared into the vast, shimmering horizon. Our destination was getting closer.

Then came a voice behind me, sharp as a knife.

"River, that question you asked Isabella before we boarded. I wanted to know the answer, too. So, go to hell!"

I had barely turned around before a force slammed into my back.

He shoved me hard over the railing.

The sea swallowed me whole.

Moments later, I heard a splash; he had jumped in after me.

"Help!" Dash's voice pierced the air as he surfaced first, shouting toward the yacht.

I barely managed to break through the surface, coughing and flailing in the waves, only to be met with a brutal kick straight to my chest.

The saltwater burned my throat. The impact knocked the breath from my lungs.

The moment pain seared through my chest, my mouth opened against my will and seawater rushed in like punishment. I choked and coughed, but it only dragged me deeper into the abyss.

Just as I fought to rise, another weight pressed down and someone stepped on my shoulder, shoving me farther beneath the surface. My limbs flailed weakly. By the time I managed to break through the waves again, I had already drifted far from the yacht.

From above, I vaguely heard Samantha's panicked voice ring out.

"Isabella! Hurry! Save River, he can't swim!"

I saw her dive into the water without hesitation.

But she swam straight toward Dash.

He clung to her shoulder like a lifeline, panic smeared across his face.

"Isabella, my leg is cramped! Please, save me first, okay?"

She glanced toward me just once, her eyes flickering with hesitation.

Then she gritted her teeth and turned away, dragging Dash back to the boat.

"River, hold on! I'll save my brother first, then I'll come back for you!"

But I had already gulped down too much water. My limbs were heavy and numb. The strength to hold on was slipping through my fingers like wet sand.

After hauling Dash aboard, she didn't dive back in right away.

Instead, Dash clung tightly to her hand, refusing to let go.

"Isabella, don't leave me. I'm scared."

Watching the two of them wrestle on deck, I felt my limbs turn to lead. I couldn't move. The cold wrapped around me like chains, dragging me downward.

As the seawater crept over my lips, a strange, ridiculous thought floated to the surface of my fading mind:

If someone saves me now, I'll marry into her family, willingly, as their live-in son-in-law.

And just like that, a wave slammed into me, silencing the thought.

The tide carried me farther and my vision blurred as the sea swallowed me whole.