Elena slipped into her room the moment Sienna dragged Adrian away. She closed the door slowly, leaning against it as the silence washed over her like a cold tide. The laughter from downstairs still floated faintly through the halls. Sienna's high, bright voice. Adrian's polite responses. Together, they sounded like a scene she had no right to interrupt.
Her chest tightened.
Why does it hurt?
She pressed a hand against her sternum, surprised by the raw, unfamiliar ache. She'd never felt jealousy before—not like this, not sharp and immediate, not enough to make her stomach twist.
She walked to her window and drew the curtains aside. The garden below glowed under the soft evening lights, shadows swaying gently. It should have calmed her. She loved this view. She'd grown up with it, memorized the shape of every tree.
But tonight, it only reminded her how small she felt inside.
Sienna hugged him so easily.
She always did everything easily. She laughed boldly, spoke loudly, took the spotlight without hesitation. She never questioned whether she was wanted. She simply assumed she was.
Elena sat on the edge of her bed, fingers twisting the bedsheet. She could still hear Sienna's teasing voice echoing in her mind.
"You stole my boyfriend!"
A joke. A careless joke.
But Elena's heart had reacted as if it weren't one.
She replayed the moment in the flower shop—the lady handing her the bouquet, saying, Take this for your boyfriend. The stunned silence. The warmth in Adrian's eyes. The way he had gently teased her afterward.
It had felt like something.
But maybe it had only felt that way to her.
She exhaled shakily. "Why am I like this?"
A soft knock broke her thoughts.
"Elena?" Adrian's voice was gentle and hesitant. "Dinner is ready."
She swallowed the surge of emotion clawing up her throat and stood. When she opened the door, she forced a small smile.
"I'm coming."
He looked at her with a concern that made her chest ache all over again. "Are you alright?"
"Yes," she lied softly.
His eyes lingered on her, unconvinced, but he didn't push. He stepped aside to let her pass, and together, they walked toward the dining hall.
The long mahogany table was set beautifully, candles glowing warm against the crystal glasses. Elena usually loved dinner with her family; it always felt elegant and comforting. But tonight, the air felt heavy.
Sienna sat beside Adrian—of course she did—her arm casually looped through his as she talked animatedly about her day. Their plates lay forgotten as she went on about outfits, weekend plans, and a new café she wanted to visit.
Adrian nodded politely, offering short responses. He wasn't rude, but he wasn't fully engaged either. His eyes drifted to Elena more often than Sienna noticed.
Elena kept her gaze down, her fork moving food around her plate without ever lifting it to her lips. She didn't speak unless someone asked her something directly, and even then, her answers were soft, almost distant.
"Elena, are you sick?" her father asked gently.
"No, just tired."
Adrian's brow furrowed.
Sienna, oblivious, leaned closer to him, running her fingers along his sleeve. "After dinner, we should go for a drive. Just you and me. It's been days since we actually spent time together."
Something inside Elena clenched painfully.
Adrian hesitated—long enough for Sienna to grin knowingly.
Before Elena could stop herself, she stood abruptly. "Excuse me."
Everyone looked up, startled by the suddenness of her movement. She bowed her head politely and walked away before anyone could say anything.
Behind her, she didn't see Adrian immediately rise to follow—but stop when Sienna tugged his arm.
"Let her go," Sienna said lightly. "She's always like this when she's moody."
Elena escaped to the small rear balcony overlooking the driveway. She needed air. Quiet. Space. Her emotions felt tangled and messy, and she hated that she couldn't understand them.
A few minutes later, she heard footsteps below. She leaned forward just slightly, enough to see Adrian and Sienna walking toward the car.
Sienna clung to his arm, laughing about something Elena couldn't hear. Adrian opened the passenger door for her. Sienna slid in gracefully, flipping her hair in the way she knew people admired.
Adrian walked around the other side.
Elena's heart twisted.
Why does he look unhappy?
She wasn't sure if she imagined it—his slow steps, the faint hesitation before he got in. The car engine hummed, headlights sweeping across the driveway.
As they pulled away, Sienna's hand reached across the console, resting boldly on Adrian's arm.
Elena felt heat rush to her face—not anger, not exactly pain… something deeper. Something she had no experience with. Jealousy was an ugly word, but it clung to her skin.
She stepped back from the balcony, pressing a hand to her mouth.
"I shouldn't feel like this," she whispered. "He's not mine."
But the ache didn't care about logic.
She went to bed early, burying herself under the covers. She didn't hear when Adrian returned. She didn't hear the quiet conversation he had with the butler, asking if she was asleep. She didn't hear his soft sigh when he learned she was.
She just lay awake, staring at the dark ceiling, wishing her heart would stop hurting.
Elena left her room early, long before anyone else was awake. She dressed quickly, grabbed her bag, and slipped out of the mansion almost silently. She didn't want breakfast. She didn't want conversation. She didn't want to see Adrian standing near the staircase like he usually did.
She walked to the university instead of calling the driver.
The walk was long, but the cold morning air helped clear her thoughts. She repeated the same mantra in her head:
Nothing happened. Nothing is wrong. You shouldn't feel this way.
But her heart resisted every logical step.
At university, she buried herself in classes. After lectures, she went straight to the library, choosing a quiet corner where no one would disturb her. She stayed there for hours—reading, writing, and highlighting anything she could find.
It wasn't interest; it was escape.
Her friends noticed her strange quietness but didn't push, sensing she didn't want to talk.
By late evening, she still wasn't ready to go home. She borrowed extra books just to have an excuse to stay longer. She didn't want to walk into the mansion and see Sienna leaning on Adrian's arm again. She didn't want to see the two of them laughing together. She didn't want to be teased again, even jokingly.
She sighed into her book, rubbing her tired eyes.
I just need time to reset. To stop feeling things I shouldn't feel.
When she finally left, it was dark outside. She walked home slowly, her bag heavy with books.
The gate guard blinked in surprise. "Miss Elena, you walked? At this time?"
"I needed some air," she said softly.
He nodded and opened the gate.
Inside the mansion, warm lights glowed softly, but Elena felt no comfort. She slipped in quietly, hoping to reach the stairs unnoticed.
But just as she turned the corner—
She froze.
Adrian stood at the bottom of the staircase.
He wasn't relaxed.
He wasn't smiling.
He looked… worried.
And he had been waiting for her.
"Elena," he said softly, stepping toward her. "Where have you been?"
Her heart stumbled.
"I was… studying," she murmured, looking away.
"All day?" His voice was gentle, but she heard the tension beneath it.
"Yes."
He studied her face carefully—too carefully. She felt exposed.
"You're avoiding me," he said quietly.
Her breath caught.
"No," she whispered unconvincingly. "I'm just… busy."
"Elena."
His tone softened further—patient, sincere, and too kind.
"Did I do something? Did I upset you?"
She looked down, hugging her books tighter, trying to protect the fragile storm inside her.
"No," she breathed. "You didn't do anything. I just… need space."
The hurt in his eyes was not loud, not dramatic—it was quiet, subtle, almost hidden… but real.
And Elena hated that she caused it.
She stepped back, lowering her gaze. "Goodnight, Adrian."
Then she walked past him, heart trembling, breathing uneven.
Because walking away from him
hurt more
than watching him leave with Sienna.
The hunger came late—long after midnight, long after Elena had convinced herself she was too tired to feel anything but sleep. Yet as she lay staring at the ceiling, the faint rumble in her stomach reminded her she hadn't eaten dinner at all.
She sat up slowly, brushing hair from her face. The house was quiet, wrapped in the soft, familiar stillness that came after everyone went to bed. She slipped into her slippers and opened her door carefully, not wanting to wake anyone.
The hallway lights were dim, casting a warm glow along the polished floors. Elena walked silently toward the stairs, hugging herself against the cool air.
But halfway down the hall, she stopped.
A faint sound reached her—soft, muffled, impossible to identify at first. It came again, barely audible, like a whisper slipping through the walls.
She frowned.
It was coming from Sienna's room.
Her first instinct was to turn around. She didn't want to know. She didn't want to hear anything. But the sound came again—lighter, broken, breathy—and her feet moved before she could stop them.
Her chest tightened with every step she took.
Maybe Sienna wasn't feeling well.
Maybe she needed help.
Maybe—
Elena pressed her palm gently against the wall, trying to steady her nerves. When she reached the slightly open door of Sienna's room, she hesitated.
She shouldn't look.
She knew she shouldn't.
But that soft sound came again, and her worry overpowered her restraint.
Elena leaned forward just enough to peek through the small gap.
And the world inside her cracked.
Sienna was sitting in his lap. er hands on his shoulders, her forehead pressed to his as if no one else existed. Their voices were low, intimate, the kind that didn't need words. Sienna laughed softly, breathlessly, her face full of delight.
Adrian's hands rested on her waist—not forcefully, not passionately, but willingly.
Comfortably.
Then Sienna leaned in and kissed him.
Not a wild kiss.
Not something dramatic.
Just soft.
Familiar.
Like it had happened many times before.
Elena felt something sharp twist in her chest.
Adrian didn't push her away.
He didn't look uncomfortable.
He kissed her back—gently, naturally, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
Elena's breath shattered.
For a heartbeat, she stood frozen, unable to move, unable to blink, unable to understand the pain that struck so intensely in the space of a single moment. Her heart thudded irregularly, and her vision blurred as if tears were already forming.
She stepped back.
Then again.
And again—until her heel hit the opposite wall.
Her lungs refused to work.
Her body felt too tight.
Her throat burned.
She stumbled away, barely aware of her surroundings. The hallway swayed. Her heartbeat echoed in her ears like a drum. She pressed a hand over her mouth to muffle the broken sound that tried to escape.
Why does it hurt like this? Why?
She didn't know how she made it back to her room. Her hands shook violently as she closed the door, leaning against it for support.
Then finally—
the tears came.
Not loud.
Not dramatic.
Just silent, trembling tears that ran uncontrollably down her cheeks.
She slid to the floor, pulling her knees to her chest, trying to breathe, trying to stay quiet even though her heart felt like it was tearing apart.
It wasn't jealousy—not only jealousy.
It was something much deeper. Something she had never felt before and didn't know how to name.
She had liked Adrian.
More than liked him.
She had admired him.
She had trusted him.
She had felt something warm around him—something new, something frightening, something beautiful she didn't understand.
She had imagined…
She didn't even know what.
But not this.
Never this.
And seeing him with Sienna…
She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders trembling.
It wasn't that she wanted to take her sister's place.
But just for a moment, for the first time in her life—
she wished she could be seen the way Sienna was.
She wished someone could look at her with that same softness.
She wished she could be held with that same familiarity.
And even though she hated herself for the thought—
she wished she had been the one Adrian chose to kiss.
Her tears soaked her palms.
"It's stupid," she whispered to the empty room. "I'm so stupid."
But the pain didn't stop.
It grew.
It spread.
It filled every corner of her chest until breathing felt like a punishment.
She crawled into bed and curled under the blankets, trying to shut everything out.
The image of them—Sienna leaning into Adrian, Adrian kissing her back—played behind her closed eyes like a cruel movie she couldn't turn off.
She pulled the blanket tighter around herself, shaking.
For the first time in her life, Elena wished the night would end quickly—
so tomorrow she could pretend none of this had happened.
So she could pretend she didn't care.
So she could force herself to move on from a feeling she never should've had to begin with.
But the truth settled in her like a quiet, painful confession:
She wasn't just hurt.
She wasn't just jealous.
She was heartbroken.