The Brother I Shouldn’t Want

𝓣𝓲𝓶

“First a toast to the bride and to the groom, my best friend.”

The words came out smoothly, practiced and calm. If my voice betrayed me, no one noticed. Or maybe they did and chose not to care. Either way, all eyes were on me, and I had nowhere to hide.

I raised my glass slightly, the champagne catching the warm glow of the chandelier above us, the hall was packed. White flowers lined every table and soft music played somewhere behind me.

Everything looked like it belonged in a Wedding of the century magazine.

Eric stood at the center of it all, tall and confident in his tailored suit. Laura stood beside him and her hand resting lightly on his arm, her smile flawless.

They looked perfect together.

I forced my lips into a smile.

“I’ve known Eric for ten years,” I continued. “We met back when we were both just trying to figure out what we wanted to do with our lives. I never imagined that one day I’d be standing here, giving a speech at his wedding.”

Soft laughter rippled through the guests. Eric looked at me with that familiar expression that screams fondness, trusting and relaxed. The look he had always given me, that same look that had gave birth to the feelings that was slowly killing me.

“In those ten years,” I said, “I’ve seen Eric at his worst and at his best. I’ve seen him stressed, angry, and convinced the world was against him. And I’ve seen him kind, loyal, and willing to give everything he has to the people he loves.”

My fingers tightened around the stem of the glass.

“He’s someone who cares deeply about other people,” I added. “Sometimes it gets annoying, you know.”

Eric laughed, shaking his head when someone clapped. The mood stayed light and one knew what those words really meant to me.

“And then Laura came along.”

I turned slightly toward her. She met my gaze easily, her eyes sparkling like a child who had just found out the usefulness of legs.

“Laura understands him,” I said. “She sees him in a way the rest of us don’t. She makes him happy, and that’s what matters.”

The words were polite, at least I tried to convince myself so.

“They found each other quickly,” I went on. “But sometimes, when you know, you just know.”

A lie. Or at least, not the whole truth.

“So here’s to Eric and Laura,” I finished. “May your life together be full of happiness, understanding, and love.”

I raised my glass higher and forced a smile.

“To the bride and groom.”

The room erupted into applause, glasses clinked. The band struck up a cheerful tune and Eric pulled Laura in for a kiss, while the cameras flashed again.

I drank my champagne in one long swallow.

When I stepped down from the small stage, my legs felt slightly unsteady, but I managed to walk back to the table without embarrassing myself. Eric reached for me immediately, pulling me into a quick hug.

“Thank you, Tim,” he said quietly. “That meant a lot.”

“Of course,” I replied.

He had no idea. I had been hiding this for years, from him. From everyone actually and sometimes even from myself. I had known Eric was straight from the beginning. He talked about women openly, even dated casually. I never once believed he would look at me the same way I looked at him.

So I did my best to fill in the role of his best friend, best pal and someone he leaned on when things went wrong or when his heart got broken.

I told myself that was enough. It worked, at least a while.

Until Laura.

She had appeared out of nowhere. A work dinner, a few conversations and late-night calls. Then suddenly, Eric was singing to old songs of Ariana Grande while using the showers.

“She just gets me,” he had said one night when he slept over at my house. “I don’t know how to explain it, it feels right Tim.”

Three months later, he proposed to her. I congratulated him after all that’s what best friends do right? Be happy for each other, even helped him pick a ring and beside him every step of the wedding preparation.

Now here I was, standing in the middle of his wedding reception and watching him live the future I would never be part of. I sat down and reached for another glass of champagne.

Laura caught my eye from across the table and gave me that sweet, warm, polite smile that everyone loved. The kind that made people relax.

The kind that made them trust her.

“Beautiful speech,” she said.

“Thank you,” I replied.

“You must know Eric very well,” she continued, her voice light, almost friendly.

“I do.”

Her smile widened just a little, slow and deliberate. “I can tell.”

Something about the way she said that made my chest tighten. It wasn’t praise. It felt like a test. Throughout the night, she stayed polite and attentive, at least on the surface. She asked about my work at the hospital, nodded seriously when I spoke, thanked me again for helping Eric so much over the years. Anyone watching us would think she was grateful, maybe even kind.

But I noticed things others didn’t.

Every time Eric turned away, even for a second, her eyes changed. The warmth vanished. What replaced it wasn’t anger exactly. It was colder than that. Sharp. Measuring. Like she was weighing me, deciding something in her head.

Once, while Eric was busy talking to a relative, she leaned closer to me. Too close. Her smile stayed in place, but her voice dropped low enough that only I could hear.

“Eric talks about you a lot,” she said softly.

My body stiffened. “Does he?”

“Yes,” she replied. “You’re very important to him.”

“I try to be there for him,” I said, keeping my tone neutral.

Her gaze lingered on my face longer than necessary. “That’s obvious.”

Then her smile shifted, just slightly. Still polite. Still sweet. But there was something underneath it now, something ugly.

“You’ve been there for him for a long time,” she continued. “Long before me.”

I didn’t respond.

She tilted her head. “Sometimes I wonder if he relies on you too much.”

My throat tightened. “Eric and I grew up together.”

“I know,” she said quickly. “He tells me everything.”

That was a lie. I knew it was. Eric didn’t tell her everything. He never had. And I think she knew that too.

Her fingers brushed my arm lightly, a touch that looked friendly to anyone watching, but made my skin crawl.

“It must be hard,” she went on, “being so… involved.”

I looked at her then. “Hard?”

She smiled wider. “Watching him build a life with someone else.”

The words hit harder than I expected. My chest burned, sharp and sudden, and I had to force myself to breathe normally. She was still smiling. Still playing her role.

“I’m happy for him,” I said.

“Oh, I’m sure you are,” she replied softly. “You’ve always been good to him. Selfless.”

There it was. Gratitude?? Nahhh it was more like a warning.

Before I could say anything, Eric turned back toward us. Instantly, Laura straightened, slipping her arm around his waist, pressing a kiss to his cheek like she had never said anything sharp at all.

“Tim was just telling me more about the hospital,” she said brightly.

Eric smiled. “He’s the best.”

Her fingers tightened slightly at his side. Just enough for me to notice.

She leaned her head against Eric’s shoulder, eyes still on me, her smile calm and satisfied like she had said exactly what she wanted to say and knew I couldn’t fight back.

And she was right.

I sat there, nodding, smiling when expected, my hands clenched beneath the table. The room felt suffocating, watching them being all lovey dovey with each other made me feel smaller somehow, like my crush on him reduced to like a burden. You know, like something in the way of their happiness.

She had been polite but she had made her point.

I took another drink.

The reception blurred together after that. More speeches. More laughter and dancing. Eric pulled Laura onto the floor, spinning her easily and both of them laughing like nothing else in the world existed.

I stayed seated, watching.

At some point, Eric came back to the table and leaned down toward me. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Just tired.”

“You should dance,” he said. “Have some fun.”

“Maybe later.”

He nodded, satisfied, and went back to Laura as soon as she waved at him. I watched them dance, I watched the way he looked at her and the way she fit into his space like she belonged there.

I felt a sting of pain in my chest.

I stood up quietly and slipped away from the table, grabbing my coat as I went. No one noticed. Or if they did, they didn’t stop me. Outside, the night air was cold and harsh. I breathed it in deeply, trying to steady myself.

I walked down the street without a plan, just putting distance between myself and the wedding hall. The music faded behind me and the laughter disappeared.

There was a bar around the corner of the Event hall. I didn’t hesitate and went in. After all, a night like this deserves a drink or two.

Inside, it was dark with a soft glow of red light that matched the slow burn music that was playing. It was perfect, so I took a seat at the bar and ordered a drink or two.

I lost count as time passed strangely, at one point my phone rang but I ignored it.

“You look like you’re attending the wrong celebration,” a voice said, I was lost in my feelings that I didn’t realize someone took a seat beside me.

I turned my head and heart stuttered.

Eric?

“You’re not supposed to be here,” I said, after concluding that it was him. The thought of him coming after me made my heart race.

He raised an eyebrow. “Am I not?”

“You just got married,” I added.

“Did I?” He studied me, clearly amused.

“Yes,” I said, frowning. “To Laura.”

His lips curved into a slow smile. I didn’t notice how different his smile was, how much colder it felt than his usual ray of sunlight beams.

“You’ve had a lot to drink,” he said.

“Probably,” I admitted, I took another sip anyway.

“You look miserable,” he continued.

“Do I?” I asked.

“Very.”

I laughed softly. “Good.”

“Why are you here?” He leaned back slightly, watching me.

I shrugged. “Needed the air.”

“That much air?” he asked. I didn’t answer.

“You’re avoiding something,” he said.

I looked at him again. Really looked. Something about him felt off, maybe it was just the ‘I got married.’ Vibe was around him or maybe it was the drink. My head was spinning, and my heart was already too broken to care.

“You always notice things like that,” I muttered.

He smiled again. “Do I?”

“Yes,” I said. “You always do.”

He didn’t correct me.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I said quietly. “You should be happily preparing for your honeymoon with Laura.”

“And what about you?” he asked.

I looked down at my glass. “I don’t matter.”

For a brief moment, his expression changed.

“That’s not true,” he said, I just let out a smile.

“Come with me,” He leaned closer, I could smell his cologne. It was different, like a mixture of wood and cigarette or was it sex?

I frowned. “Where?”

“Somewhere just the two of us.”

I hesitated. A small, clear part of my mind warned me this was a mistake. But that part was tired and weak, that’s how I found myself saying.

“Okay,”