The Daughter They Never Chose

"Don't you want to meet him?" After a long silence, I finally spoke, unable to suppress the faint trace of unwillingness.

Mom set down her mug and awkwardly brushed the question aside. "It's fine. We trust you."

Did they trust me? Or did they simply not care?

I lowered my eyes to the ring on my ring finger—the joy of being proposed to washed away instantly, leaving me cold to the bone.

In truth, I should have gotten used to it long ago. I should have gotten used to my family ignoring me, to their indifference, to the fact that they simply did not love me.

And yet, I had still wanted to tell them that my boyfriend's name was Isaac Forrest, and that he loved me very much. His parents were in business, and they treated me well, too. I had memorized all the answers to the questions Mom and Dad might ask, over and over until I knew them by heart.

But they did not even ask.

And even when they did ask questions, they did not ask me.

Because I was not Riley.

Just like now.

I looked up. Riley stood there with her arms folded, her face full of the spoiled, carefree confidence she had always possessed. "Oh, come on. Why are you asking so many questions? I'm warning you, you'd better be nice to my boyfriend. This is my first relationship. What am I supposed to do if you scare him away?"

Scott's eyebrows drew together. "He'd better not. I'll beat him into a pulp!"

Mom also began giving Riley a serious, motherly lecture. "Riley, you shouldn't throw yourself at a man. A girl must have dignity. You don't have to cling desperately to the same man the way your sister does. If you two really break up, your dad and I will take care of you. You've always wanted a walk-in closet, haven't you? Once Jenna gets married, we'll turn her room into one for you. How does that sound?"

Dad was not a man of many words, but he kept nodding, clearly agreeing with Mom.

Right in front of me, they were already planning what to do with my room, without the slightest consideration for how I might feel—because whenever Riley was there, they never saw me.

I was ordinary and plain. Weak and timid. I was not as bright or as dazzling as Riley, nor as articulate or charming. Riley only had to stand there without lifting a finger, and she could effortlessly draw everyone's attention—including Mom and Dad's love.

When I was little, I had fought for it too. I competed with her, trying to win their attention.

When Riley came first in her class, I stopped sleeping and pushed myself to the limit, swearing that I would surpass her. And when I finally brought home a first-place certificate, I asked, "Mom, Dad, could you love me a little more?"

Scott immediately snorted. He told me I was dreaming, then immediately held up a lollipop to cheer Riley up. Mom merely ruffled my hair and told me that Riley was my little sister. Then she turned around and prepared an entire table of Riley's favorite dishes.

Dad's eyes had not even lingered on me. He had been 40 years old, yet after coming home from work, he would still kneel on the floor and let Riley ride on his back like a horse.

No one cared about my first-place certificate or noticed me standing alone in the corner.

As we grew older, Riley fell in love. Because they loved her, my family naturally paid more attention to her boyfriend as well. When it was my turn, nothing changed.

Fortunately, I was no longer that unloved little girl.

I looked at Dad and could not help but ask, "You said before that you didn't want your daughter marrying too far from home. My boyfriend's family is in Cambaluc. Don't you mind?"

Dad froze for a moment. His expression immediately turned serious as he turned to Riley. "Where is your boyfriend from? If he's from outside this state—no, outside this city, I won't agree to it."

I froze.

After a long moment, I let out a self-deprecating laugh. As it turned out, the daughter he had been talking about had never included me.

I got to my feet and turned back toward my room. Once inside, I opened my chat with my boyfriend and slowly typed, 'I'll marry you. Take me away, won't you?'

The next second, his reply came through. 'Wait for me!'