Stealing My Sister's Fiancee
And when the curtain fell, he turned to me and said, in the most sincere tone I’d ever heard, “If I could love someone the way Don José loved Carmen—even when he lost everything—then my life wouldn’t be a waste.”
Now, standing under the dim glow of rehearsal lights, his words echoed like something from a distant past.
On stage, a young woman began to sing a song from Les Misérables, her voice floating through the night air, soft and full of sorrow. I didn’t even realize I was holding my breath until the final note faded.
Marcus noticed my expression, but didn’t say anything.
Suddenly, two people from the group looked our way and whispered to each other. One of them—a young guy with curly hai
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