She Saved for Our Wedding, Then Gave It to My Brother

1: 1

My girlfriend came back from a business trip abroad with a pile of local specialties and gifts for my little brother.

Chester Sullivan bounded over to pick through them, thrilled.

Seeing me sit there without so much as moving, my mother asked,

Aren't you going to see what Hazel Sanchez brought you?

I shook my head. I didn't need to look.

Those gifts came in every shape and kind, but there was never one for me.

The two of them chattered away, happy, while I sat there like an outsider who'd wandered into the wrong room.

Then, easy as anything, Hazel slipped Chester a bank card.

"Here, your birthday's coming up. Buy whatever you want."

"Hazel, I knew you were the best!"

Chester was over the moon. He threw an arm around her neck.

The whole room was warm with it, my parents smiling too.

But my eyes were locked on that bank card, and my heart dropped straight to the bottom.

That card was one we'd opened together at the bank, to save the money we'd need to get married.

Hazel had said that once she saved up five hundred thousand, it would be her dowry, and we'd build a new home together.

But at dinner yesterday, Chester let something slip.

That was how I found out she'd already saved the full five hundred thousand six months ago.

She was just holding onto it, to give my brother as his bride-price money.

Watching the two of them laughing together, I lowered my head and told the company I'd take the overseas transfer, then turned and went back to my room.

That wedding I kept waiting for and never got, I didn't want to wait for it anymore.

To get close to her, I'd walked through every kind of weather and worn every bit of the cold.

But from here on out, however long the road, I only wanted to look after myself.

Seeing me say nothing and go straight to my room,

Hazel sensed something was off and followed, frowning.

"Zane Sullivan, why aren't you talking? Are you sulking again?"

"Come on, you're not actually jealous of your own little brother?"

A flicker of impatience showed in her eyes, but she kept her voice soft, coaxing me.

"All right, stop it."

"You know I'm going to marry you someday, so I have to stay on good terms with everyone in your family."

"I care for your brother Chester like he's my own little brother too. What more could you want?"

Right. I should be satisfied. I should be grateful, even.

Because she really did treat my brother better than she'd treat her own.

Too well, in fact.

Every business trip, she came back with gifts of every kind.

And what a coincidence, all of them happened to be things Chester liked, as if she'd hand-picked each one.

While I, her boyfriend, got nothing.

I turned and glanced at the pile of gifts, already divided up, and let out a bitter little laugh.

"So you go on a trip and bring back gifts for everyone. Where's mine?"

Hazel blinked, then broke into a smile.

"And here I thought it was something serious. So this is what you're jealous over."

She reached out and ruffled my hair, the gesture affectionate and practiced.

"You know how it is. Chester's young, and he's got a sweet mouth. The moment I see something a boy his age would like, I know it'll make him happy."

"You're my boyfriend. Do we really need things like that between us? My whole self already belongs to you."

She smiled, the same way she had a hundred times before when she wanted to cheer me up, her tone just as easy.

And it drove a fresh ache straight into my chest.

But she hadn't always been like this.

She knew how much I loved little rituals, how much I loved the ones she used to bring me on a whim from some roadside stand.

Even if it was just a bunch of flowers.

Or a breakfast sandwich, the kind I loved.

I'd stay happy the whole night, just knowing she'd thought of me even in the middle of nowhere.

But somewhere along the way, overlooking me had become a habit.

I looked into her eyes.

"That bank card, do you still remember it?"

Her smile paused, then she shrugged it off.

"Of course. Why bring that up all of a sudden?"

I kept looking at her. "Nothing. Just felt like asking. How much have you saved up now?"

Something evasive slid through Hazel's eyes, but she answered calmly enough.

"I was only fifty thousand short of the full amount, but a few days ago my mom suddenly got sick. It cost almost a hundred thousand, so now I'm a hundred and fifty short."

She lied without a flicker, then made a show of holding my hand tenderly.

"Zane, trust me. I've been working hard to save."

"A year at most, and I'll have the whole dowry put together."

"Then we can throw a proper wedding, the grand kind."

"Is that so."

I pretended not to see the panic in her eyes, and said quietly,

"But I just heard Chester bragging that you gave him a bank card and told him to spend whatever he wants for his birthday."

2: 2

Hazel's brow furrowed.

A flicker of displeasure crossed her eyes.

"That little brat Chester has no filter. He'll say anything."

"That card is just the one I use for spending money. I was only messing around with him. It's not the one where we save our wedding fund. Why would you take it seriously?"

I didn't press her. There was no point.

Because I wanted, more than anyone, for the card she'd given Chester not to be that particular bank card.

Maybe Hazel had forgotten, when she handed it over.

When we opened that account, it was linked to my phone number.

Six months ago, once that card reached five hundred thousand, it had never been touched again.

But three minutes ago, a transaction alert had suddenly popped up on my phone.

A charge of thirty thousand. A Cartier watch.

And a moment later, that very brand of watch showed up in Chester's social media posts.

"A thirty-thousand Cartier watch, ordered on the spot! Birthday gift from Hazel. She spoils me more than my own sister ever did!"

How badly I wanted to throw that post and that transaction alert right in Hazel's face.

But I didn't.

Every fight we'd ever had over her favoritism ended the same way, badly, with nothing resolved.

Seeing that I stayed quiet, Hazel seemed to grow irritated.

"Zane, we've been together all these years. You still don't trust me?"

She sighed, her voice softening a little.

"You're the only one in my heart. Chester's just my little brother. You really want to make a thing of this over one card? Is it worth it?"

She reached out to take my hand. I stepped back half a pace and let it pass.

"I'm not making a thing of it," I said. "Hazel, I'm just tired."

She leaned in, still wanting to say something, when a voice came from behind her.

"Hazel!"

"I can't get my jeans zipped up. Come help me!"

"Coming!"

Hazel answered in the brightest, breeziest tone.

But when she turned back to me, a trace of impatience slipped into her voice.

"See that? It's your brother who needs me."

"All right, get some rest, and stop overthinking. I'm going to go help Chester. He's like a little fool, can't manage a single thing on his own."

As Hazel turned and walked out,

I saw it clearly, that indulgent little smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

The bedroom door slammed shut.

It landed like a dull hammer against my chest.

I sat on the edge of the bed, watching the dusk deepen outside the window, my fingers slowly tightening around the phone.

Even through the wall, I could catch the faint drift of their conversation.

"Hazel, I heard you lie to my brother. You clearly saved up the whole five hundred thousand. Why did you tell him you hadn't yet?"

Chester asked, all innocence.

"If he found out you gave me the entire bank card, wouldn't he be furious?"

Hazel laughed, indulgent.

"I don't want to get married so soon."

"Besides, if I actually married Zane, I'd be your sister-in-law. Could you still hang all over me the way you do now?"

"You little fool."

I leaned back against the door, tears sliding down, and let my body slide heavily to the floor.

Just then, my phone rang again.

It was a confirmation email from the company.

"Mr. Sullivan, are you certain you agree to the overseas transfer to Australia? This assignment runs a minimum of five years and as long as ten. Please consider carefully before replying."

Three minutes ago, I'd still been wavering.

But now, the last scrap of hesitation left in me was swept clean away, like a bit of ash on the wind.

I pressed confirm.

The company had sent the notice last month, that eligible employees could apply.

At the time I'd scrolled right past it without a second thought.

Hazel's career was on the rise. At the rate she was saving, she'd have the full five hundred thousand by the end of the year.

Our wedding would fall naturally into place, set for next spring.

We'd already found the house. Everything was moving forward, step by step.

I couldn't leave. I shouldn't leave.

But it wasn't until yesterday that I learned she'd had that five-hundred-thousand wedding fund saved long ago, and had simply never intended to use it for our wedding.

She'd even lied that the money wasn't there yet, just to keep pushing the wedding back, again and again.

The phone buzzed. A reply from HR:

"Zane, your application has been approved. The transfer is tentatively set for one week from now. Details to follow by email. Please prepare accordingly."

From the living room came Chester's laughter, bright as a little bell.

Mixed in with it, my mother's doting scolding.

"You silly boy, making Hazel spend her money again."

And then Hazel's warm, gentle voice: "Don't say that, Auntie. What's a little money spent on Chester? It's only right."

She was right. Anything spent on Chester was only right.

But one cent spent on me seemed to cost her her life.

Last year, on my birthday, she worked until ten at night and came home empty-handed, saying the cake shops were all closed by the time she was on her way, she'd make it up another day.

That "another day" still hasn't come.

And last month, Chester mentioned offhand that he wanted a trendy iced latte from some place.

The next morning she drove halfway across the city to get it, and it was still warm when she came back.

The little rituals, the care, all the things I'd waited and hoped to come home to.

She gave every last bit of it to Chester, holding nothing back.

In that case, I don't want any of it anymore.

3: 3

Early the next morning, I was about to leave for work.

Chester suddenly knocked on my bedroom door.

Hey, let me use that most expensive bottle of cologne of yours!

His voice carried in from the doorway, like it was his by right.

It wasn't that he had none of his own. He had a whole cabinet packed with cologne, while I had exactly one bottle.

I said no.

Why not use your own?

He gave a little laugh.

I want it for spraying my shoes. Every bottle I own costs a fortune. That'd be a waste, throwing away good stuff.

So he figured he'd just use mine.

But my one bottle wasn't cheap either.

I'd been so careful with it, rationing every spray, and the very first day I brought it home he'd knocked over more than half of it by accident.

It hurt so much I didn't sleep all night.

And now here he was, acting like he had every right to borrow it.

You can't.

I refused without hesitation, and Chester ran off with red eyes, crying.

Not long after, someone kicked my door open.

Hazel walked in, her face full of anger.

It's just borrowing your cologne. Why are you being so petty?

Your brother thinks of you whenever he gets anything good.

How can you be this selfish?

Hazel had an easy temper. Even when we argued, she'd never lost it at me like this.

But right now, it was as if I'd done something unforgivable.

Hazel, get it straightwho's your boyfriend here?

I've got that one bottle. If someone wants to borrow it, do I have to hand it over on a silver platter?

I'll ask you one last time. Are you lending it or not?

Hazel's face was cold, no room for discussion at all.

No.

Fine! Hazel laughed in fury, and suddenly pulled out her phone. It's just a bottle of cologne. What's the big deal?

She snapped a photo right there and ran an image search.

Then placed an order for Chesterten bottles of the same brand, in ten different scents.

Chester froze, then it clicked and he leapt up, thrilled.

Hazel, I must've saved the universe in a past life. You're so good to me!

Ten bottles! I could spray my shoes for the rest of my life and never run out!

And I just stood there, watching Hazel, digging my nails into my palm until it ached.

That one bottle was a birthday gift from Hazel, three years ago.

I'd used it so carefully every time, terrified of wasting a drop.

And now Hazel was using it to get back at me, hard.

I didn't say anything. Lips pressed tight, I picked up my bag and walked off, and knocked over the glass figure Chester had set on the couch by accident.

It shattered into pieces.

Chester's scream came right on its heels.

Ah! Zane, what are you doing? Even if you won't let me use your cologne, you don't get to take it out on me like this!

Chester cried until his eyes went red.

That figure was a limited edition I bought from overseasit costs more than your cologne!

I didn't know what to do with myself. I didn't mean to

Zane!

Hazel's face darkened. I really never realized beforeyou're this vindictive!

You're the one who broke Chester's figure, so you pay him back for it!

Hazel ordered me to take a side job in my free time after work, and earn back the money for the glass figure.

And just like that, I remembered how it used to be.

Every time, I was the one doing the chores and the cooking while Chester lay around bingeing shows.

The moment I so much as complained,

Hazel would jump on me.

Your brother's so thin, you can tell he isn't eating or sleeping right, always getting the short end. You're his older brothershouldn't you feel a little more for him?

Instead of standing here sulking like a jealous kid, go help your brother with something.

She was always finding me some side job or another, saying a man ought to stand on his own.

Then she'd turn right around and take my brother to the movies.

To Disneyland.

The two of them built up so many memories that even the living room wall in my house was covered with their photos.

And in none of those photos was there any sign of me.

Maybe I should have been used to it by now.

Over the next few days, I went to work, came home, ate, slept, same as always.

Hazel was busy as ever, sending me a few messages here and there, and I kept my replies short.

She seemed to sense something, but not quite all of it.

She just figured I was still sulking over the gift.

So on Friday night she left work early on purpose, saying she'd take me out for sushi.

Chester said a friend of his recommended a new place, really good. Let's go try it.

She talked while she drove.

I sat in the passenger seat, staring at the streetlights sliding past the window, and didn't answer.

What's wrong? Don't feel like sushi?

We can go somewhere else. What do you want?

I turned to look at her. You're taking me out to eat. Why bring up which place Chester says is good?

The question caught her off guard, and then she smiled.

I was just saying it offhand. Why are you taking everything to heart lately?

Is that so.

I looked away. Sushi's fine, then.

There was still a message sitting in my phone, one the company had just sent.

Zane, you're the only young guy going on this Australia transfer, so get everything ready ahead of time. A car will come pick you up for the airport tomorrow.

Five minutes earlier, I'd looked down and typed back a single word. Okay.

Because tomorrow I was leaving.

This was our last meal. I'd just treat it as a proper goodbye.

4: 4

The sushi place was genuinely nice.

Elegant setting, delicate food.

Hazel had ordered a whole table of dishes, fussing over me, setting food on my plate, refilling my water, playing the part of a flawless girlfriend.

If the man across from her had been the me of two weeks ago, I'd probably have melted into a grin by now.

But I sat there chewing the salmon sashimi, and it might as well have been wax.

Halfway through the meal, Hazel's phone rang.

She glanced at the screen, and something shifted in her face before she hit decline.

"Who was that?"

"No one. Telemarketer."

The words were barely out before it rang again.

She declined it. It rang again.

On the third try, I finally caught the name on the screen: "Chester."

There'd been a time when this used to eat at me.

His own brother was right here, yet whenever something came up, he never once turned to me for help.

It was always Hazel.

Now I couldn't even be bothered to be angry about it. I just said, evenly,

"Answer it. Maybe it's something real."

Hazel hesitated, then picked up.

Chester's voice on the other end was bright and urgent.

"Hazel, where are you? My car broke down, I'm stuck here at the mall, can you come get me?"

"Which mall?"

Her tone went taut at once. "Don't worry, I'm on my way."

She hung up and looked at me, caught in the middle.

"Zane, it's dark out now, Chester's car broke down, it's not safe for a guy alone out there..."

"Go." I lifted my teacup and took a sip. "I'll just grab a cab home."

"Are you sure you'll be okay on your own? Or you could wait for me here a bit, I'll come back for you as soon as I've got Chester..."

"No need."

I cut her off. "He's standing at the mall by himself. Don't keep him waiting."

Hazel studied me for a couple of seconds, as if measuring whether I was really not upset.

I smiled at her, and her face eased at once.

"Zane, I always knew you were the sensible one. I knew you'd understand."

"I'll come back for you the second I'm done."

She stood, grabbed her coat, threw out a hurried "text me when you get home," and left.

I sat alone in the empty private room.

In front of me was a whole table of food, barely touched.

When the waiter came to ask if I wanted it boxed up, I shook my head, paid the bill, and walked out of the restaurant alone.

It was the last farewell dinner anyway.

If Hazel wouldn't treasure it, why should I hold on to it.

The night wind was cold, a faint sting against my face.

I stood at the curb hailing a cab, and my phone buzzed again.

Chester had posted to social media.

In the photo he stood at the mall entrance, Hazel's car parked beside him.

Caption: "There's always someone who shows up right when you need them. So lucky."

Right then, the cab pulled up.

I switched off my phone and got in.

Back home, my mom was stewing chicken soup.

I weighed my words before I spoke.

"Mom, I'm being transferred for work tomorrow. I might not be back for a while."

Her hands went still over the pot.

"How long is a while?"

"Hard to say."

The soup bubbled away in the pot, steam filling the kitchen, and I couldn't make out her face.

I only heard her go quiet for a long moment before she said, "And Hazel? Is she going with you?"

"She's got her own job. She can't."

"Did the two of you..."

She picked her words carefully. "Did you have a fight?"

"No."

I kept my head down over the vegetables, snapping a green bean in two with my fingers.

"Mom, I just want to get out and see something else, change my surroundings. I'm twenty-six this year. I want to go make something of myself out there."

She didn't press. She knew me too well.

Ever since I was little I'd been the kind who kept everything bottled up.

Once I'd made up my mind, nothing anyone said would move me.

She only let out a long sigh. "Take good care of yourself, then."

My eyes went hot, and I turned away, pretending to watch the sparrows outside the window.

Early the next morning, over breakfast, Chester was chattering away, thrilled.

"Mom! Hazel says she's taking me to try out a new hot spring today. I won't be home for lunch!"

My mom said nothing. She looked up at me, her eyes complicated.

I smiled. "Good for you. While you're off work, you should get out and have fun."

She opened her mouth, then closed it, holding something back.

Soon Hazel drove up to get him.

Chester had changed into a white suit and climbed into the passenger seat.

The old me would have made an issue of it.

That passenger seat was mine, so why did Chester slide into it like he'd done it a hundred times.

But I didn't have the energy for any of that now.

The moment their car was out of sight, I picked up my suitcase and walked away without a backward glance.

It was only after Hazel had finished making the rounds of the amusement park with Chester that it suddenly hit her: I hadn't answered her messages in two days.

The last one was still the line she'd sent after leaving the sushi restaurant the night before.

"Zane, are you home yet?"

No reply.

And this morning, she'd messaged to ask, "You free after work tonight? Want to go see a movie together?"

Still nothing but silence.

A strange, nagging irritation coiled in her chest.

"I'll pick you up at your office after work."

"It's settled, then."

Still no reply.

After work Hazel went and waited downstairs from the office until dark, and I never came.

She went back to my place looking for me, and found I wasn't home either.

Only then did it register that something was wrong. Her face went slightly pale, and she ran upstairs and knocked on Chester's door.

"Chester, where's your brother?"