The living room of the family townhouse was quiet,
sunlight pouring through the wide windows,
soft and warm—
a rare peaceful moment.
Sally sat elegantly on the couch,
legs crossed,
a cup of tea resting lightly in her hand.
Her sister and the boy sat across from her,
both looking nervous for completely different reasons.
Sally watched them for a long moment—
not judging,
not interrogating…
just observing.
Then she spoke.
"I've been thinking," she said calmly.
Her sister tensed.
The boy stiffened instantly.
Sally leaned forward slightly,
her gaze sharp but not unkind.
"You two need to decide what you are."
The boy blinked.
"W–What?"
Sally raised an eyebrow.
"You heard me.
Either you get married someday…" she said bluntly,
"…or you break up.
But you will not stay in this messy, undefined space."
Her sister flushed red.
"S–Sally! We just—"
"Just what?" Sally interrupted gently.
"Just started dating? Just confessed? Just survived trauma together?"
She smiled faintly.
"You are already deeper than most married couples."
The boy's ears turned pink.
"We're still figuring things out," he whispered.
Sally nodded.
"And that's fine."
She sipped her tea.
"But I refuse to see either of you hurt because you are scared to make a choice."
Her sister frowned softly.
"You're… really serious about this."
Sally reached out and touched her hand gently.
"I love you," she said.
"And I will not watch you get pulled into an emotional chaos that could break you again."
The boy swallowed, feeling suddenly small under Sally's steady gaze.
"And you," she added, turning to him,
voice softening just a little,
"But firm,"
"You care about her. I can see that. But caring is not enough.
You must be steady for her.
Consistent.
Present."
He nodded, almost instinctively.
"I will," he whispered.
"I know."
Sally gave a small approving nod.
"Which is why I approve of this relationship.
But only if you treat her with the seriousness she deserves."
Her sister breathed out, relieved.
Sally leaned back.
"Good. That's settled."
Then she lifted her tea again.
"Now—leave Jack to me."
At the mention of his name, both siblings stiffened.
The boy looked uneasy.
Her sister bit her lip.
Sally's expression didn't change.
"I'll handle him,"Jack was sitting outside on the back patio,
legs stretched out,
head tilted back,
eyes closed—
trying to think,
or trying not to think.
He heard footsteps.
Slow.
Even.
Confident.
Sally.
He opened one eye reluctantly.
"Here to yell at me again?" he muttered.
Sally sat beside him,
crossing her legs with practiced grace.
"No," she said softly.
"I'm here to talk."
He exhaled roughly.
"That's worse."
Sally smirked slightly.
"I spoke to our sister," she said calmly.
Jack stiffened.
"And the boy," she added.
His jaw tightened.
"What did they say?" he asked coldly.
Sally shook her head.
"It doesn't matter what they said.
What matters is what you are doing."
Jack glared at the grass.
"Nothing."
Sally turned toward him fully.
"Jack," she said,
voice suddenly gentle,
"you are hurting.
I know that.
But you are also making everything worse."
He clenched his teeth.
"I— I'm trying," he muttered.
His voice cracked against his will.
Sally's expression softened.
"I know," she said quietly.
"You don't have to explain to me."
He looked at her—
really looked—
and for a moment the anger drained from his eyes.
"You're the only one who never gave up on me," he whispered.
Sally brushed a stray hair from his forehead,
like a mother comforting a child.
"That's because you're my brother," she said.
"And because I see the good in you, even when you're drowning in your worst."
He swallowed hard.
Sally straightened.
"I'm giving you something," she said.
Jack frowned.
"Giving me what?"
She smiled—
small, calm, confident.
"A position."
She paused.
"In my company."
Jack froze.
"…What?"
Sally continued:
"You need direction.
You need responsibility.
You need something bigger than this obsession and anger."
Jack stared at her, stunned.
"You want me… to work for you?"
"I want you to grow," she corrected.
"To become someone you're proud of."
Jack looked down,
emotion flickering dangerously behind his eyes.
"I don't deserve that," he whispered.
Sally tilted his chin up gently.
"You don't get to decide what you deserve," she said softly.
"I do."
His throat tightened.
She tapped his chest lightly.
"Stop fighting ghosts," she whispered.
"Come work with me.
Let me help you."
Jack inhaled shakily,
fighting back emotion.
"…Okay," he whispered finally.
"I'll try."
Sally smiled.
"I know."
Then she stood.
"And Jack?"
"Yeah?"
Her voice sharpened—just a little.
"If you hurt her boyfriend again…
I'll take back the offer."
Jack blinked.
"You wouldn't."
She raised a brow.
"You know I would."
Jack exhaled, defeated.
"…Fine."
But as Sally walked away, Jack leaned back and whispered into the wind:
"This isn't over."
But Sally's office was quiet,
filled with the warm glow of a desk lamp and the faint sound of rain tapping the windows.
Jack stood near the doorway—
arms crossed,
jaw tight,
anger simmering just under the surface.
Sally didn't look up from her paperwork.
"What is it, Jack?" she asked calmly.
Jack took a deep breath.
"I don't want her marrying him."
Sally finally lifted her gaze, one eyebrow raised.
"Excuse me?"
Jack stepped closer, voice firm, controlled—
but his eyes were burning.
"He's weak," Jack said sharply.
"He's fragile.
He flinches at everything.
He can barely breathe when I walk into a room.
How can someone like that be her husband?"
Sally rested her elbows on the desk.
"And?" she asked.
Jack blinked.
He hadn't expected that response.
"And?" he repeated angrily.
"Sally, you know I'm right. He can't protect her. He's not strong enough. He's not stable. I—"
Sally raised a hand and he fell silent instantly.
"Jack," she said slowly,
"it does not matter what you think of him."
Jack clenched his fists.
"He's not good enough."
"That is not your decision," Sally replied.
"That is hers."
Jack's face hardened.
"She's making a mistake," he insisted.
"She's choosing someone beneath her. Someone who can't even control his own fear. How is he going to control a family? A marriage? A future?"
Sally exhaled.
"People do not marry strength," she said quietly.
"They marry love.
And loyalty.
And gentleness."
Jack scoffed.
"Love? That boy wouldn't survive five seconds in our world."
Sally leaned forward, voice firmer.
"Then she will build a new world," she said.
"One that does not revolve around violence or fear."
Jack shook his head violently.
"I don't like him. I never will."
Sally shrugged lightly.
"You don't have to like him, Jack."
Her voice softened.
"But you should respect her choice."
Jack's voice cracked with frustration.
"She's my sister."
"And I am your sister too," Sally replied gently.
"And I'm telling you:
You can advise her.
You can express concern.
You can warn her."
Her tone sharpened.
"But you cannot choose for her."
Jack looked away, jaw tense.
Sally stood, walked around the desk, and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Be a brother, Jack," she whAt the flower shop, the boy was arranging a new bouquet of white roses.
She was standing beside him, laughing softly at something he said.
But then—
Her smile faltered.
Her hand pressed against her chest.
Her breathing quickened.
"Are you okay?" he asked immediately.
She didn't answer.
Her vision blurred.
Her knees weakened.
"Hey— hey!"
He caught her just before she fell.
Her skin was cold.
Her breaths shallow.
"I—I can't—" she whispered weakly.
Her head dropped against his shoulder.
Panic shot through him like lightning.
"No— no, no— stay with me—"
His voice trembled.
He lifted her in his arms, heart pounding violently.
"Someone help!" he cried out.
No one answered fast enough.
So he held her tighter,
tears already burning his eyes.
"Please… please don't do this," he whispered desperately.
"I can't lose you.
Not again."
He carried her out of the shop,
running into the cold even
Sally's phone buzzed sharply.
She answered—
and her face drained of color.
"What happened?" Jack demanded, instantly alert.
Sally closed her eyes.
"It's your sister," she whispered.
Jack froze.
"What about her?"
Sally looked up, eyes tight with worry.
"She collapsed."
Jack's breath caught—
anger, fear, guilt all colliding at once.
And for the first time in days…
his hatred for the boy disappeared entirely.
Only one thought remained:
He needed to get to her.
Now.
ing air,
his heart breaking with every step.
ispered.
"Not a cage."
Jack swallowed, torn between anger and grief.
But before he could answer—
this time…
It didn't sound like a threat.
It sounded like a confession
of a boy who didn't know how to stop loving
or how to stop hurting
or how to stop being lost.
she repeated.
Her tone made it clear:
She wasn't asking for permission.
She was making a promise.