The Star-Crossed Mistakes

The mocking and jeering echoed from all sides. I stood there entirely alone as a target for the fingers pointed by Christian and his circle of friends.

“Look deep into your conscience and think about how well Christian treated you growing up.”

“You caused his father’s death, took every single cent, and ran off abroad.”

“How do you even have the nerve to show your face here again?”

The person speaking was one of Christian’s closest friends from college. Because I used to trail behind Christian constantly, we had become very well-acquainted back then. He used to call me his little sister and buy me all kinds of delicious treats. Yet now, the very people who used to be kind to me had turned into bitter enemies staring me down with contempt.

“Christian, you’d better watch your back. Don’t let her run off with all your money again.”

They weren’t wrong. I brought this entirely on myself. I was the one who fell in love with someone I shouldn’t have. I was the one who shouldn’t have fallen for my stepbrother, a man with whom I shared absolutely no blood relation.

Years ago, after my mother got pregnant, she was abandoned by my biological father. Christian’s father loved my mother deeply and didn’t care about my existence; he simply wanted to find someone to help care for a three-year-old Christian. My mother, too, wanted a real family where she could raise me.

So, after I was born, Christian’s father treated me completely as his own daughter, proudly telling everyone that I was his flesh and blood. As for Christian, he spoiled me rotten. At my first birthday party, out of everyone who was there, I reached out and grabbed his hand.

The first time I ever drank formula from a bottle, it was Christian holding it for me. The first time I took a step, I was holding onto Christian’s hand. On my very first day of school, Christian was waiting right outside the gates, holding the chocolate cake I loved most. Even when I got my very first period, it was Christian who got the pads for me.

Christian was my superhero, and I was his little shadow, following him everywhere. I knew better than anyone else just how incredibly good he was to me, but why did any of that matter? Even though we weren’t blood related, as long as we were bound by the words brother and sister, we were destined never to be together.

Christian snorted. “What’s the point of saying all this? She’s heartless. Do you honestly expect a couple of sentences to awaken her conscience?”

Christian frowned slightly. The moment his gaze shifted to me, he flashed me that disgusted smile again.

“To drink or not to drink, the choice is yours. If you finish every single bottle of alcohol on this table and then drop to your knees to beg for my forgiveness, then maybe…”