That kind of bond and reliance never left any room for me—not from the start.
In the month since Kelsey arrived, I saw for the first time how Tucker truly loved someone.
I knew then—he fully intended to go on loving her quietly for the rest of his life, in the name of being her brother-in-law.
But why did I have to be the one sacrificed?
I’m not some idiot who exists just to be used!
Crying and cursing under my breath, I dug through the very bottom of the drawer and found my first love letter to him.
The paper had yellowed with age.
What I’d written on it was still clear.
[Tucker, I’ll keep waiting until you like me.]
I stared at it for a long time, then gently placed it at the very bottom of the box.
‘Verity from ten years ago,’ I thought, ‘I’m sorry. I don’t want to wait for him anymore.’
Tucker came home very late that night.
The cardboard boxes on the floor were impossible to miss. He glanced at them, his brow tightening slightly, like he wanted to say something.
But the hesitation passed quickly.
To him, it was probably just me being moody again—nothing worth paying attention to.
He changed his shoes, his tone casual as ever.
“Why are you packing things up?”