Nothing Compares

Ever since I was old enough to understand the world, I knew I was only a replacement for my dead brother. The day before I started elementary school, Mom and Dad took me to buy a backpack. Mom smiled and asked, “Blue or red? Which one do you want?” I picked blue. However, the moment I said it, her smile disappeared. She grabbed my shoulders so tightly that it hurt and screamed at me, “Why didn’t you choose red? Harry would only pick red!” Dad saw her lose control and slapped me across the face. My nose started bleeding. From that day on, whenever I chose something, I only dared to pick the color my brother would have liked. During recess, I was messing around with my classmates when some clay accidentally got stuck in my hair. The teacher kindly helped me cut it off. However, when Mom came to pick me up, she completely lost it. “Henry never had a buzz cut. You’re not my son!” She shoved me off the back of her electric scooter. I cried as I chased after her, running for half an hour before finally making it home. To keep from upsetting her again, I started copying my brother in everything. It was not until after the SATs that Mom demanded I give up my future and attend the community college near our house, even though I was the top scorer.

They know what this is. A relationship? They can’t even call it that. The only time they can stand each other is when they’re breathless, tangled in sheets, lost in the heat of the moment. But when a dark history begins to unravel between them, threatening the fragile balance they’ve built, one misstep could change everything. What happens when one of them crosses the line?

While we're shopping for college supplies, my younger brother, Reuben Whitaker, picks up a limited-edition gaming bedding set and grins at Mom. She doesn't even glance at the price before putting it in the cart. When it's my turn, I barely pick up a charcoal-gray bedding set when my older sister, Cheryl Whitaker, frowns. "Garrett, why do you always choose such gloomy colors? You need to be more upbeat like Reuben," she scolds. My childhood friend, Phoebe Thorpe, smiles as well. "No one at the dorm knows you anyway, so buying something new will be a waste," she says. Reuben glances at the sheets in my hands and quietly suggests, "Garrett, why don't you use my old set? You never cared about things like that anyway." Mom immediately nods in agreement. "Garrett, you don't need new sheets. Besides, putting two sons through college isn't easy." My grip slowly tightens around the set. I remember Reuben's old bedding. The corners are covered in pills, and the fabric is stained with soda he spills during his late-night gaming sessions. It has always been this way. I get the designer sneakers he no longer wants, the backpacks he's grown tired of, and the bedroom he doesn't like. If I don't complain or fight him for anything, my turn will eventually come. At least that's what I think. But even after 18 years, their only response is, "You never cared about things like that anyway." At the register, I watch Mom pay for Reuben's things one by one before casually tossing my charcoal-gray sheets back onto the shelf. It's then that my lips curl into a smile. As it turns out, no one has ever bothered to remember what I like. I pick up the charcoal-gray sheets again. This time, I won't put them back.

Everyone told me how lucky I was. I was nothing special, yet somehow, I'd married Julian Ashford, the campus heartthrob who went on to become a once-in-a-generation surgical talent. My best friend, Nora Hayes, had always been the prettiest girl in school. Julian and I had been married for seven years, and everyone thought he adored me. At our wedding, he had even announced in front of all our guests that he would grant Nora one wish. It bothered me a little, but Julian simply cupped my face and looked at me with such sincerity that all my doubts disappeared. "Lena, I love you so much that everyone you care about matters to me too. Besides, Nora's a single mom raising a kid on her own. It's not easy for her." I cried that day, convinced I'd married the best man in the world. Seven years later, at 28 weeks pregnant, I was on my way to another prenatal appointment when I finally saw the truth for myself. "You're such a good boy, Charlie. You know, you were the wish Mommy asked Daddy for. Even when your little sister arrives, Mommy and Daddy will still love you just as much." Julian ruffled Charlie's hair affectionately, his other arm wrapped protectively around Nora. My fingers tightened around my phone until they hurt. I felt as if all the blood in my body had suddenly turned cold. On the screen was a message Julian had sent me only ten minutes earlier. "Hey babe, got called into emergency surgery. I'll definitely come with you next time." Next time. It was always next time. I was already seven months pregnant, and he hadn't attended a single appointment with me, even though his department was only one wing away. I stared at the three of them, looking every bit like a perfect little family. Julian, there won't be a next time.

a heavy burden that I carried for nine long years. It was hard to admit to myself that Carlos Sky never really loved me, despite all the efforts I made to win him over. I even tried to use the divorce and the company he owned, Sky Corporation, as a way to bargain for him to give me attention and love. But he remained indifferent, insensitive to my feelings and my desperate attempts to win him over. It was a moment of great sadness and disappointment when I realized that he never cared about me in the same way that I cared about him. After the divorce, I had time to reflect on what happened and finally realized that the so-called "love" I felt for Carlos Sky was one-sided. I had deluded myself for years, believing that he loved me, when in reality he never showed this feeling for me. The hardest thing was to admit to myself that I loved someone who never loved me back. It was painful to face the reality that all the time, effort, and energy I put into this relationship was for nothing. Learning to let go of this unrequited love and move on with my life was a difficult journey, but necessary for my own emotional health and well-being. Today, I look back with a mixture of sadness and relief. It was a difficult experience, but I also learned a lot about myself and the true meaning of love. I learned that true love is mutual, it involves reciprocity and respect. It is not something that can be forced or won through negotiations.

On Christmas Eve, while her husband takes their son to watch fireworks with his first love, Justine Payne finally makes up her mind—she's getting a divorce. They've been married for five years. To everyone else, she's the lucky woman with the perfect life. She has a devoted husband and a smart, adorable son. But only she knows the truth—her husband has never let go of his first love. Even worse, the child she nearly died giving birth to can't wait to replace her with someone else. So, Justine decides to set them both free—a husband whose heart doesn't truly belong to her and a son who can't wait to replace her. She refuses to keep holding on to love that isn't returned.