Blair was bracing herself from Ezra’s fury as she stood near the edge of the rooftop where the icy wind whipped her smooth black hair.
“Why are you so stubborn, Blair?” Ezra’s voice was sharp. “Do you really think you can handle all of this on your own? Why won’t you just listen for once? ”
Blair lifted her chin, her face pale but her eyes defiant. “And who exactly should I be listening to, Ezra?” Her voice trembled with a mix of anger and hurt. “The Wilsons? The Taylors?” She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Everyone was waiting for me to bend, to break, to apologize. But no one actually listens to me! No one ever does!”
Ezra’s jaw clenched, and his breath came in short bursts as he struggled to contain the rising tension between them. “Have you forgotten my role in your life before you started talking about marrying me? Or are you so ungrateful that you’ve forgotten all my efforts at raising a brat like you?”
Blair’s face flushed with guilt as she met Ezra’s intense gaze, her brows furrowing in confusion. “Are you reproaching?”
When Blair was six, a traumatic kidnapping incident left deep scars on her psyche. The fear she experienced caused her to withdraw from everyone, making her reluctant to let anyone get too close—except for Ezra, who was nearly five years older than her. He became her sanctuary, the only person she fully trusted.
Ezra’s nurturing nature shone through when he took care of her. He would soothe Blair to sleep with gentle words, wrapping her in a cocoon of safety and warmth. He even took on the responsibility of her education, ensuring she stayed on track with her studies despite her isolation from the outside world.
He became the older brother she needed and the protector she relied on, always prioritizing her needs above his own. With each passing year, she grew up under Ezra’s unwavering protection. In his presence, she found solace and fully healed from the trauma inflicted by her kidnappers.
Ezra’s expression hardened as he replied resolutely, “I am!”
Blair’s eyes widened, showing a look of exaggerated embarrassment. Her cheeks flushed as she recalled the day Ezra exerted his effort at taking care of her.
Blair was just barely twelve when she discovered the horrors of womanhood.
“Brother!” she cried, calling Ezra. “I think I’m dying!”
Ezra, engrossed in his computer, furrowed his brows and looked at her on his bed. “What happened?”
“I’m bleeding! Like, a lot!” she exclaimed in panic, pointing to Ezra’s bed where she had napped, now marred with crimson stains.
His expression underwent a swift transformation—from cold detachment to sheer panic. “You’re not dying, I promise!” he exclaimed, his voice becoming steadier, yet the urgency in his eyes was unmistakable.
In an instant, he snatched his father’s car keys from the hook by the door, the metallic jingle echoing in the otherwise quiet house. “Get in!” he urged, swiftly guiding her to the car. As they sped through the streets, his grip tightened on the wheel, his focus unwavering as he navigated the road with a blend of determination and anxiety while rushing to the hospital.
Few minutes later, a kind doctor entered. “Tell me, what can I help you?” she inquired, glancing between them who were so pale, like ghosts.
Blair, still trembling, explained to her while Ezra stood rigidly beside her. The doctor smiled gently and explained, “What you’re experiencing is a normal part of growing up. It’s your period, and for some girls, it can sometimes be more intense.”
As the doctor’s words sank in, Ezra’s face flushed a deep shade of crimson, embarrassment washing over him like a tidal wave. He exchanged a mortified glance with Blair, who appeared equally flustered. Just as they were about to escape from crushing embarrassment, the door swung open, and both the Taylor and Wilson families entered, summoned by Ezra’s frantic call while on the way to the hospital.
“I know why you took care of me, Ezra,” she whispered, her voice trembling at first but gaining strength with each word. “It was because your family was grateful to my grandfather, who helped Taylor’s businesses survive. You were compelled to do it. I was nothing but an obligation to you.”
Ezra’s expression flickered with an emotion she couldn’t quite decipher—whether it was remorse or shock, she wasn’t certain—but he remained silent, his jaw tightening.
Blair’s chest tightened as she faced Ezra, her mind racing back to all those years spent under his care. He had done everything right—always attentive, always present, ensuring she had everything she needed. Yet, no matter how hard she tried to connect with him emotionally, there was always a very tall wall between them. He had never smiled at her, not once. He had never laughed with her, and she couldn’t recall a single moment when he seemed genuinely happy to be in her presence.
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To Blair, Ezra had always seemed like a machine—flawless in his actions but lacking any emotions. Every gesture and every word felt calculated and mechanical, as if he were performing a duty rather than expressing genuine affection. His care was impeccable in execution, yet something essential was absent—a connection, a sense that he truly saw her and cared for her as more than just an obligation.
“I’m sorry, brother.” Blair’s throat tightened as she apologized sincerely. Her defiance and anger felt insignificant compared to the realization of how much Ezra had sacrificed for her, even if it had been without the warmth she craved.
She inhaled deeply, her voice trembling as she spoke. “I’ve been so selfish, only thinking about my own needs and feelings. I never once stopped to consider how all of this was affecting you.”
Her words faltered, but she pressed on, determined to express the depth of her regret. “You took care of me all those years, sacrificing your time and your own happiness for the sake of the Wilsons’ desires. Now, I want you to pursue your own happiness. You deserve to live for yourself.”
The wind whipped around them, but in that moment, it felt as though the world had slowed down. Blair could see the cracks in Ezra’s armor, the weight of years of responsibility and sacrifice pressing down on him.
Ezra stood silently, his gaze fixed on her pale, beautiful face, the icy wind tousling his dark hair. He didn’t respond to Blair’s apology, but the stillness in his posture and the way his fists slowly unclenched proved that her words had reached him.
Her eyes filled with tears as she confirmed he had been longing for this moment—for someone to tell him it was okay to live for his self.
With her voice wavering yet resolute, she continued, “I promise not to bother you anymore and drag you into my life.”
She noticed the subtle twitch in his expression, the faintest flinch that telling he was paying attention. Blair’s heart ached, but she pressed on, her words infused with conviction.
“But I need you to promise me something.” She stepped closer, her voice soft yet firm. “Promise me that no matter what you see or hear—no matter how much I struggle—you won’t help me. I need to face this on my own.”
Ezra’s expression remained impassive, but Blair could see the storm brewing behind his deep blue eyes. She understood the weight of her request—it was not an easy one. He had spent years protecting her, even if his methods lacked warmth or affection. He had been her shield, her silent guardian.
His lips tightened, and after a prolonged pause, he spoke in a quieter voice. “How About this? Think of me as your human diary and share everything on your mind.”
Blair experienced a surge of conflicting emotions at Ezra’s suggestion. The urge to confide in him was overwhelming, almost magnetic. She was the type of person who could never keep a secret; her thoughts often spilled out like water from a broken dam. Every detail, from her triumphs to her failures, clamored for an audience, and who better to share it with than the one person who had been there through it all?
The internal struggle was palpable. She envisioned herself sitting cross-legged on the floor, pouring her heart out like a melodramatic character in a television show. Blair felt the corners of her mouth twitching upwards, wanting to open its own to talk.
“Why do you have to go on a business trip on my birthday?” Finally, her internal battle lost its intensity, and she started crying, burying her face in his broad chest.
Blair pulled back slightly, wiping her tears as she tried to gather her thoughts. “It’s... Diane’s incident. Everyone started pointing fingers at me…”
“It all started the day after summer vacation began when we celebrated my birthday. I wore this shimmering gown that matched the diamond necklace my father had given me.”
She paused, her voice heavy with memories. “After one glass of wine, I excused myself to take a nap, thinking I should save energy for later when my friends will arrive. But an hour later, I was jolted awake by a loud banging on my door. When I opened it, everyone was staring at me with devastated looks, as if I were a criminal caught red-handed.”
Ezra’s brow furrowed, sensing the weight of her words. “What happened?”
Blair’s hands trembled slightly as she continued. “I found out that Diane had fallen from the balcony outside my room on the third floor. Suddenly, I was the prime suspect. They accused me, and I couldn’t shake the doubt that crept in. The evidence pointed right at me—Diane had my diamond necklace in her hand when they found her. If I was sleeping, how could I explain that? And I was sure I hadn’t taken it off.”
Her voice cracked as she recalled the accusations. “Then Samantha and Diane’s mother started bringing up my old diary, talking about how I’d written about hating Diane for her mischievous acts, like stealing my things. It felt like they were painting a target on my back, and I was powerless to defend myself.”
Ezra listened intently, his expression serious as she poured out her heart. Hours passed as she recounted every detail, the hurt and confusion spilling from her like a broken dam.
“I felt so trapped,” she admitted, her voice trembling, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “No one listened when I said I didn’t push her. Before I could even explain, Grandfather stepped in, deciding it had to be buried as a secret—something the outside world could never know. Diane’s parents agreed not to press charges, but only if I signed an agreement, forfeiting my claim as a Wilson heir, and apologized to them. They also demanded I remain confined within the Wilson’s mansion until Diane woke up. But I refused. I wouldn’t accept any of it. That’s when they kicked me out of the Wilson Group... and severed every connection I had to the family.”
“And then,” she continued, her voice thick with emotion, “when I got kicked out of Wilson’s mansion, it was like a final blow. I had nowhere to go. I felt so lost, like I didn’t belong anywhere anymore.”
Another hour slipped by as Blair poured out every detail of her struggles, leaving nothing unsaid. Now, they sat quietly in the corner, the weight of her words lingering between them. Ezra had taken off his vest, draping it over Blair’s shoulders to keep her warm as she sniffled softly, her face buried in the fabric.
Suddenly, Blair’s soft sniffles turned into louder, dramatic sobs, catching Ezra off guard. He glanced at her, confused by the sudden escalation. “What now?” he asked, his voice half-concerned, half-bewildered.
Blair wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, her face scrunched up in frustration. “It’s all your fault,” she blurted between sobs, looking at him with accusing eyes.