Chapter 7: Breaking the Brotherhood

That was the end of the breakup talk—Marcus was terrified of seeing me cry. He looked like a deer in headlights, desperate to do anything to make it stop.

He took me around the mall, and despite my repeated refusals, bought me a pile of things. Every time I said, “Oh, I couldn’t,” he’d insist, “No, really, take it. Please.”

He carried my bags and paid for everything, constantly praising how good I looked. “Wow, that color looks amazing on you. You could be a model.” I smiled shyly, basking in the attention. I pretended to be embarrassed, but honestly, I wasn’t embarrassed at all.

I mean, free shopping spree? Who’d say no? If he’s willing to do this, it just means he thinks it’s worth it. I glanced at his card every time he handed it over, mentally tallying the total. He never blinked. Money is just a tool to buy feelings. It’s all transactional in their world. At least I was honest about it.

If he can spend a little to buy himself a secret thrill only he understands, plus a bit of redemption, then he should really be thanking me. Heh. So much for brotherhood—your little boat of friendship capsized over a purse? I almost laughed out loud at the thought.

Marcus seemed to forget that Derek was still waiting for us. After shopping, he drove me straight home. He fiddled with the radio, humming to himself, like we were on a real date. I stared out the window, letting the city lights blur by.

Standing at my door, bags at my feet, I looked tired and uneasy at Marcus. I let my shoulders droop, like the weight of all those bags was too much.

“Marcus, don’t forget what you promised.”

I said, “Say nice things about me—just say I have a great personality, I’m really cute, and anyone with me would be happy.”

My voice was soft, almost pleading, like I was handing him my last wish.

Marcus smiled and nodded. “Yeah, you don’t have to tell me. I already think you’re really cute.” He said it quickly, then coughed, cheeks tinged pink.

Then he seemed to realize that was a bit much and coughed lightly. He glanced at the ceiling, rubbing the back of his neck.

What could I do? Of course I realized it late and blushed in embarrassment. I looked down, fiddling with the handle of my bag, cheeks heating up. The moment was textbook rom-com.

Pure, shy, lovesick beauty. Such a cheesy persona, but guys eat it up. I could almost hear a laugh track in the background. Dokidoki—my heart pounding, I could see he was almost thrilled to death, his Adam’s apple bobbing. His eyes flicked to my lips, then away. So obvious. What a flirt.

To ease the awkwardness, I changed the subject. “So, uh, what do you think Derek would want for his birthday?” I listed off ideas—watches, cufflinks, a vintage vinyl record, trying to sound earnest. From his expression, he probably wanted to suggest I give him a coffin.

He smirked, rolling his eyes at the suggestion of anything romantic. Halfway through our awkward chat, Derek showed up. Just now, he’d sent me a question mark. I told him Marcus had driven me home.

I could hear him stomping down the hall before I saw him. So Derek rushed over, ready to catch us in the act.

“Rachel, you’re really something!” Derek grabbed my wrist and dragged me outside. His grip was tight, bordering on painful, but I kept my face blank, eyes wide for the audience.

“You look so innocent, but after one meeting you seduced my buddy? You really are greedy for money and attention—couldn’t wait to bring him home, huh?”

He practically shouted, voice echoing down the hallway. A neighbor peeked through their peephole. On the surface, I looked panicked, but inside I was sneering. I let my eyes water, chin trembling, giving him the drama he craved. But inside, I was already counting the ways I’d win.

“Derek!” Marcus shouted angrily. “Don’t talk crap. If you have something to say, say it inside.” Marcus’s voice was steady, but his hands were balled into fists.

Derek thought Marcus was still playing along, and got even more worked up. “Say it inside? I’m settling this right here. Rachel, did you seduce my buddy while I wasn’t around? You—damn!” His face was red, nostrils flaring. He looked ready to explode.

In a panic, Marcus lunged, shoving Derek into the wall hard enough to rattle a framed print of the Chicago skyline. “I told you not to talk crap. Nothing happened! Rachel and I were discussing what birthday present to get you!” Marcus’s voice cracked a little, but his glare was lethal.

Derek: “……”

He steadied himself against the wall, glared at Marcus, and his face darkened. He looked between us, jaw clenched, like he was trying to do math and coming up short.

“You’re serious? Are you, Marcus?”

Derek pointed at the pile of bags on the ground. “What’s all this, then?” He was practically foaming at the mouth.

“Sorry.” Before Marcus could answer, I cut in. I stepped forward, voice low but clear. “It’s my fault. I’ve been short on money lately, and Marcus said he’d give me a gift for our first meeting, so I let him buy me a bunch of things. He couldn’t refuse because of you, so he bought it all.”

I said it matter-of-factly, letting the guilt land where it may.

After saying that, I pushed Marcus toward the elevator. “Go, Marcus. I’ll explain to Derek.”

He hesitated, then let the elevator doors close behind him. I could see his face, pale with worry, through the crack before it shut.

Derek, furious, grabbed my arm and yanked me back. “You stay right there!” His fingers dug into my skin. I wobbled, feet tangling in the handles of the shopping bags. I lost my balance and accidentally fell to the ground.

There was a sickening thud as my hip hit the floor. The shock registered on Derek’s face—he hadn’t meant for that to happen.

Derek hadn’t expected me to fall and was stunned. His eyes widened, panic flickering. I bit my lip, letting the tears well up.

Then Marcus punched him hard. The punch landed square in Derek’s gut, knocking the air out of him. He doubled over, gasping. He clutched his stomach and groaned, not getting up for a long time. The hallway echoed with his groans. I stifled a laugh.

Good buddy, have a punch. Now the little boat of friendship has completely capsized. Yay.

I allowed myself a tiny, satisfied smile as Marcus squared his shoulders, protective and angry.

“Derek, don’t go too far. Fine, I’ll tell you why I bought Rachel those things.”

Marcus pulled Derek up. He yanked him to his feet, face close, voice low but intense. “Because I really can’t stand how you treat her. Do you have a grudge against her? She just wants to have a good relationship with you—do you have to treat her like crap? You… you know what you’ve done!”

His hands shook as he spoke. I could see real anger—and maybe a little guilt.

The air was silent for a few seconds. You could hear the hum of the hallway lights, the quiet thump of my heart in my ears.

I leaned against the wall, looking at Marcus, eyes full of despair. My hair was mussed, dress rumpled, eyes shining with unshed tears. Perfect for the closing shot of a soap opera.

Why say it out loud? Why shatter my dream? Why make things so messy? Why not punch him a few more times?

A dark little part of me almost wanted to egg Marcus on, just to see what would happen.

So I cried. I let the tears spill, soft and silent, for maximum effect.

I slowly took out my phone, opened the ab photo I’d received before, and held it up to Derek. I made sure the screen faced him, the evidence clear as day.

“Derek, do you know how I realized you got someone to send me this photo?”

Derek: “……”

He blinked, stunned, jaw slack.

I’d just replied to it with a flirty message, who knew it would lead to such a dramatic scene. But I’m good at spinning stories. It’s easy—just focus on what I want.

I took a shaky breath, letting the moment linger. “Maybe because deep down, I always felt you were trying to get rid of me. Marcus didn’t tell me anything, I figured it out myself. Now that things have come to this, I just want to ask you face to face: did you ever, in order to dump me, try to set me up and ruin me?”

I made my voice sharp, almost accusatory, making sure everyone in the hallway could hear.

Derek was stunned, speechless. He looked at the floor, throat working, unable to meet my eyes.

As if he couldn’t accept the implication, my face went pale and tears streamed down. I wiped my cheeks, hands trembling. I let my voice break just enough to seem truly devastated.

The man I loved wanted to destroy me—who could bear such a blow? I thought of every rom-com betrayal, every country song about heartbreak, and poured it into my eyes.

I gripped my phone tightly, veins bulging on the back of my hand. So broken.

My knees felt weak, but I forced myself upright, chin trembling. “I always thought if I just tried a little harder, maybe you’d slowly come to like me. But now I know I was wrong. I’ve caused you a lot of trouble, haven’t I? Sorry. I won’t bother you anymore.”

With that, I deleted all his contact info in front of him, then turned to look at Marcus. The digital purge was swift—block, delete, unfollow, all in one smooth motion.

After a few seconds, I nodded with tears in my eyes, said nothing, turned around exhausted, and quietly closed the door. On the other side, I could hear Derek’s ragged breathing. For the first time, it was him left out in the cold.