Chapter 5
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Harry thought he must have misheard, tilting his head. "Who? You?"
He scrambled up from the floor, clutching his stomach, laughing like a madman. "Don't try to fool me here. Is it someone we know? Stop covering for Julia. I know you've always been close to her, following her around since you were little. But I'm your brother, and she is my fiancée."
He stressed his tone for the last part of his words. Clearly, he had just heard Emilio's response.
I curled up on the bed, wiping away the tears from my cheeks. "I'm not your fiancée anymore. We've broken up without even getting registered. I'm just me."
Emilio stood in front of me, speaking calmly. "I've always liked Julia. It was my choice."
Harry punched the wall, his blood staining the surface. "You're giving up everything for her? Father will disown you! Just wait!"
He stormed off like a mad bull, smashing things along the way.
He sat down on the bed and gently smoothed my messy hair—the same patient, tender way he had done countless times over the past seven years.
"Are you all right?" he said. "Let me take you to the hospital."
This was our first real conversation since that night. In the past three days, I had been avoiding both Harry and Emilio.
I didn't know how to face him or how to handle the awkward situation I had put him in because of a moment of impulse.
"I'm fine," I muttered. "Go ahead with your work. I want to be alone for a while."
His fingers brushed my cheek lightly, and my skin reacted to the touch, tiny goosebumps rising.
"Okay," he murmured, leaving the room and closing the door behind him.
A while later, noises came from downstairs. I wrapped myself in his jacket and went to check it out.
It turned out Emilio hadn't left. He was methodically making soup in the kitchen.
I watched his broad back, the way his black shirt stretched across his shoulders, his long legs, his quiet confidence. The boy who once followed me around had grown into a man who took my breath away.
Emilio was Harry's half-brother, and only when he was seven had their father brought him back.
Harry hadn't been kind to him, but even as a child, Emilio had an outstanding appearance that always made me feel protective of him, shielding him from Harry's bullying.
Despite his strikingly attractive looks, he was always quiet. It was only when I appeared in their house that he'd follow me around and call me sister.
Later, Harry and I were engaged, and he had fallen silent again.
When the soup was ready, he turned and saw me standing at the foot of the stairs. He smiled gently and waved me over. "Come over. I made your favorite beef soup."
I felt almost hypnotized, my feet moving on their own as I followed his words, sitting down on the couch. He sat next to me, blowing on the steam rising from the bowl.
He looked at me and spoke quietly. "I have never considered what happened between us a problem."
