Chapter 3

It was late, and everyone was getting ready for bed.

Our home consisted of three bedrooms and a living room. My parents shared one bedroom, Hannah stayed in the second room, and Rupert occupied the third.

As for me, I slept in a tiny storage space sectioned off from the living room with a makeshift partition made from a few pieces of fabric.

That cramped little space was where I spent the most awkward and miserable years of my adolescence. There was barely enough room for a small bed, and I even struggled to change my clothes at times.

I'd protested the arrangement and asked for a room of my own. If that wasn't possible, I even said I could share one with Rupert.

It was perfectly reasonable for two boys to share a room. His bedroom was the largest one in the house, so there was also more than enough space for two beds.

But Rupert refused and claimed that I didn't deserve to share a room with him.

Back then, I'd cried and demanded to know why. After all, I was my parents' son, too.

My parents never stood up for me and always took Rupert's side. Ignoring me as I cried my eyes out, they stubbornly insisted that I stay in that cramped little storage space and chased me back to my so-called room.

They'd feel sorry for Rupert whenever he cried, but my tears only annoyed them.

"You're the older brother. You should learn to be grateful and behave more maturely, do you understand?"

I heard countless variations of that speech as I grew up.

Why was I the only one of the three children who was expected to be understanding? Why me? Did I really mean so little to them?

Desperate to prove that I mattered, I once decided not to head home after school. Instead, I hid in a park not far from our house, hoping my parents would grow worried and come looking for me.

I waited until nightfall before a middle-aged woman hastily ran into the park. She wrapped her arms around her son in relief and said, "Don't be scared, sweetheart. Let's go home."

Looking overjoyed, the little boy threw his arms around her neck affectionately.

I was so envious.

I wanted them to come looking for me so badly that I wouldn't have cared if they punished me for running away afterward. But they never came. In fact, they didn't even bother to call.

Eventually, I dried my tears and headed home, feeling defeated.

…

By the time I got back, my family was having dinner while watching a movie, looking perfectly happy. Not one of them glanced my way.

"Mom!" I swallowed my hurt and called out.

Mom turned to look at me, her face full of contempt. "So you've finally decided to come home? Why didn't you just drop dead out there?"

Her response left me heartbroken.

"I'm actually dead now, Mom," I said inwardly. "Are you finally happy?"

…

Thanksgiving Eve had passed, and before long, it was Rupert's wedding day.

My parents had decided to hold a grand wedding. They invited a huge number of guests, and as a result, the hotel ballroom was extremely crowded.

Relatives of both families exchanged congratulations while taking the opportunity to compare their children's achievements.

"I heard your wife works for a major company and makes 10,000 dollars a month. You certainly know how to pick a wife, Rupert!"

"Look at that gorgeous gold bracelet on your wrist. Was it a gift from your daughter-in-law, Jill?" one of our relatives turned toward my mother and asked.

Quite a few people flashed Mom envious looks. Meanwhile, she touched the bracelet, looking slightly dazed and awkward.

I was the one who bought it for her.

Last Mother's Day, I'd taken my therapist's advice and made an effort to repair my relationship with my mother.

I'd bought the bracelet hoping it would make her happy. But after she'd accepted the gift, she'd kept complaining about how I'd wasted my money, and she didn't look thrilled at all.

Another relative sighed. "Out of all our children, your eldest son, Terence, is the most accomplished one. He has a postgraduate degree and a good government job. Plus, he's hardworking and capable too. You really are blessed, Jill!"

Mom tightened her grip on the gold bracelet, her expression growing vacant. It seemed like she'd finally remembered me.

"Terence truly is impressive. It's just a shame that he never comes home. He didn't even drop by on Thanksgiving. He's also absent from my wedding…" Rupert suddenly chimed in sadly.

He trailed off at the very end of his sentence, looking as though he'd been deeply hurt.

Hearing this, Mom's expression turned cold. She took off the gold bracelet and tossed it carelessly into her bag. "Let's not talk about that ungrateful boy. Today is a happy occasion. Please enjoy yourselves, everyone."

As Rupert raised his glass, the corners of his mouth curled up ever so slightly.

It was just as I had expected. Whenever Mom started to see me in a better light, he'd always find a way to turn her against me again.

…

Truthfully speaking, Mom used to be nicer to me when I was much younger. After all, she'd carried me in her womb for ten months, and I was her biological son.

One birthday, she had promised to buy me a present. I'd spent the whole day looking forward to it. At the end of the day, she finally presented me with a small, kid-sized suit jacket.

"Well? Do you like it?" she asked.

It was a cool-looking black tailcoat. Naturally, I was overjoyed. Rupert already had several suit jackets of his own. Because of my mother, I finally had one too.

I was ecstatic. Hugging the jacket tightly, I spun around the room with it and refused to put it down.

"Thank you, Mom! I love you so much!" I exclaimed.

Mom teared up before she even realized it. Caressing my cheek, she flashed me a guilty expression and said, "Good boy, Terry. I'll get you another one on your next birthday."

I nodded enthusiastically, my face flushed with joy.

Just then, Rupert walked over and said in a quiet voice, "Terence is so lucky. I wonder if he would've gotten such a nice jacket if his other brother had survived."

Mom's expression changed instantly. The warmth in her eyes vanished and was instantly replaced by a look of resentment. Then, she snatched the small suit jacket from my hands and began to cut it into pieces with a pair of scissors.

"How dare you wear new clothes when your brother lost his life? What makes you think you deserve this?" she snarled.

I burst into tears as strips of fabric fell to the floor.

"No! Mom, please! Please stop cutting it!" I pleaded.

No matter how hard I begged, my mother refused to listen. She kept cutting until the suit jacket was in tatters before throwing it in my face.

I hugged the ruined jacket in my arms as if I was clutching the broken remains of myself. Meanwhile, Rupert walked up to me with a malicious grin on his face.

With tears streaming down my cheeks, I asked him why he would do this to me.

Grinning, he sucked on a lollipop and replied, "Because I don't like you—and I don't want anyone else in this family to like you either. I won't let you take any of our family's love away from me!"

…

After that incident, my family stopped inviting me to family outings. I never received any gifts from my parents, and I was also cropped out of family photos.

Just as Rupert wanted, I never received any form of love or affection from my family.

I used to scream at them like a madman, demanding to know why they treated me that way. Then, late at night, I'd curl up alone and cry helplessly. At some point, I even swallowed my pride and tried to please them. I'd put on a smile and wait on them like a servant, hoping they'd pay a little more attention to me.

All I wanted was the tiniest bit of affection, but they ignored me time and again. For years, I struggled endlessly in a loveless home with no one to turn to.