Chapter 2: Duty and Divorce

At twenty-two, Derek listened to his family and married me.

It was one of those muggy summer weddings where the air sticks to your skin and the whole town shows up just for the cake and to see who’s sitting with who. Derek stood at the altar next to me, his jaw set in that stubborn way he gets when he’s made up his mind—his whole vibe more duty than devotion. I wore my mother’s pearls, and people whispered that I was the luckier sister. But the weight of every gaze in the room pressed down on me, measuring exactly what was missing between us.

But everyone knew—even after we got married, he still couldn’t let go of his passionate love for my sister.

I saw it in the way he looked at her across the Thanksgiving table, the way he froze when her number flashed on his phone. It was like Lillian was the only song he’d ever memorized, and I was just the background noise, humming along in the wrong key.

Later, I asked for a divorce.

We sat at the kitchen table, fluorescent lights buzzing, the air thick with everything left unsaid. I fiddled with the edge of the paperwork, my hands trembling just a little. Still, my voice came out steady—stronger than I felt. The decision tasted like iron in my mouth, bitter but necessary.

He was silent for a long time before finally signing the divorce papers.

He just stared at the papers, fingers drumming the counter, eyes unreadable. The clock on the wall ticked so loud it felt like a countdown. When he finally signed, it felt less like an ending and more like someone finally cutting the anchor chain—one last act of mercy for both of us.

“If you ever need anything in the future, just ask.”

His words sounded rehearsed, but there was a softness I hadn’t heard in years. I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat, knowing I’d never call him.

At twenty-eight, I came back to attend Derek and my sister’s wedding.

It was a bright spring Saturday, the church decked out in hydrangeas and white ribbons. The air was thick with the smell of fresh-cut grass and the low hum of gossip. I walked in on Jason’s arm—my fresh start—and tried not to notice the way people’s eyes lingered, their curiosity sharp and hungry.

He shot a dark, unreadable look at the man beside me.

Derek’s gaze was a thundercloud, stormy and unsettled as he sized up Jason, who squeezed my hand just a little tighter. The tension was unmistakable—old ties never really break clean, no matter how much you want them to.

Back then, he was so eager to divorce me—turns out, it was all for her.

The realization settled like a stone in my chest. All those nights wondering if I was the problem, if I was just unlovable—turns out, I was just collateral damage in someone else’s love story. But this time, I was determined to be the main character. That day, with Jason by my side, I finally felt free from the weight of it all.