One day, while my brother was using his phone, I found myself watching closely—tracking the pattern of his fingers as he unlocked the screen. I didn't even realize what I was doing until later that night.
When he finally fell asleep, my heart pounded like a drum. I didn't know where the sudden courage came from, but I knew I had to try. I needed to know the truth. Why did he leave me? Why did everything end the way it did?
With trembling hands, I unlocked my brother's phone.
I searched. My chest tightened as I found the chat I had been dreading yet craving to see.
But when I opened it, I froze.
I couldn't go further. I couldn't scroll. Because right there were voice notes from my second brother—messages sent directly to him.
I pressed play, and the words stabbed into me like knives.
His voice was harsh, venom dripping from every word.
"Your underwear you wearing right now, also your mom afford—not your own money. Yet you still need my sister? Get lost."
My breath caught. I couldn't play the next one.
How did he stay calm after hearing something so disrespectful?
How could he not break? Was this why he left me? Was this the reason he let go?
I shut the phone, hands shaking, my stomach twisting. I couldn't listen anymore. The shame, the pain, the betrayal—it all wrapped around me like chains.
That night, I didn't cry loudly. I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, wondering how love so pure had turned into something so ugly.
And deep inside, one question kept echoing:
Did he leave me because of them... or because I was never enough?