'' I was telling your brother to help me get to the ALLOHA club to cook your favorite cake for your birthday, you fucking jerk. And that's how you act. You know I was passionate about everything. I loved you truly. But this is enough for me and this stupid relationship. I am done. Emily is my sister, and you told me you were done with her. It's been four years. Get over it. She is happy now with her boyfriend, not with the controlling freak you are. You said you were over her'' I repeated the words I said to him again and again.

The thing with anxiety is that you can't stop overthinking everything you say, and this is killing me. No matter what I do—journaling, Pilates, endless running—nothing helps, not even the drugs I am taking. I am slowly going crazy, and no one can help me with this. My mother felt the same. And now she is gone. She couldn't bear it anymore and decided to end her life at the age of 50. Her last note was, "I am sorry for leaving you. I love you with all my heart, but I can't do this anymore. I am going crazy, and the voices in my head are not stopping. This is not easy for me. And the decision was made a long time ago. This is my destiny to die and give my life so my daughters can live their peaceful lives''

She decided that killing herself was a better option than fighting with anxiety. That was the time my dad became a total control freak. He was taking us to daily check-ups to make sure we would not end up like her. I know he loves us and he loves our mother, but the way he was trying to show us his love was not what I needed.

My sister Emily was 22 at that moment. She was dealing with grief in her own way, which means that she was sleeping with boys and girls, having fun, and taking drugs. I was 16, and the way I dealt with our mother's death was different. But we were both trying to feel something. To try things that will keep us alive. I am regretting my life choices as I become more mature. I understand that this is not the way you should deal with your pain. I was cutting myself constantly. I was smart enough to not cut my wrists, so I was doing it with my legs. There was always so much pressure on me that I just wanted to feel something else. The voices in my head were telling me to cut myself.

Once, my dad saw this. I thought he was going to be mad, but the only thing he did was cry. He cried on my shoulders while tightly hugging me, saying how sorry he was for not seeing what I was going through. And what I am doing with myself. He promised that he would help me and that we would go through this together, but the next day he decided that this was too much for him and he couldn't do it, so he sent me to the mental hospital. What a loving dad! That was the worst year of my life. Seeing people pitying me was horrible. But the worst thing is going back home thinking that even though I lost one year of my life in a mental hospital, it helped me, and my dad was right. I practically begged Emily to drive me home. I was stupid enough to think that my dad cared about me. The moment I entered our house, I got that. I heard screaming and moans. My dad was having sex with his fucking secretary. I was furious. But the thing my therapist taught me was patience. I thought maybe this was a misunderstanding when I heard this conversation.

''Honey, I am so happy that your crazy wife is gone, Emily is living with her boyfriend, and your psychotic daughter is in a mental hospital. I cannot believe she really did this to herself."

''Yeah, me too. Finally, I am free from three of them. I was done playing good father, so I can keep their trust funds to myself."

''I love you for being like this; it's making me hot," her secretary said, red-faced. And they call me psychotic? I was massed up. I knew that, but because of my past and the things I was forced to go through, she was telling my father that she was wet because my father told her that he should play a good daddy role to get our trust funds. Obviously, she was more fucked up in the head than me. Not to mention that she was 24 and my dad was 55. Is it even legal? That girl is messed up, or she needs a lot of money. Not that my dad was handsome or smart. Everything we had was because of my mother. Life is unfair, and this is so messed up that I didn't even know what to say. But thanks to my hidden, bitchy personality, I handled that. I clearly remember how I entered the room, slapped her, and threw her clothes through the window.

''Hi honey," I said, repeating her horrible accent. ''I am Allison. Nice to meet you. Oh, maybe you remember me; otherwise, what is it? Oh, I remember the psychotic daughter. You have 4 minutes to leave my house, or I will call the cops. Dear Lord, do you even know how old he is?" I gave her 100 dollars and said,

''Get a therapist, as I can see you have major Daddy issues," her face reddened. She was furious. Great, that is what I was trying to do. '' And, for the record, he had some sexual diseases. If I were you, I would go to the gynecologist. Bye, honey." She was insulted and scared. Home sweet home, it is always healthy to show the bitch her place. At that moment, I felt like a winner, but the thing is, every action and every decision we made had consequences, and mine was a nightmare. If I had known who was going to be with me later, I would never have done it.

''Lis! Wait, Lis!" The moment I turned around, I saw him. Aiden Miller, aka the older brother, We didn't talk much. He always looked so distant, so I decided that I didn't want to talk to him. And now he is here. Tangled hair, unconfident behavior—what happened to him? We are not close, but I know a few things about him. People call him a shark. He is smart, painfully handsome, and dangerous. There are some rumors that he is working with the mafia and drugs; maybe worse, no one knows. The only thing we all know about their wealth is that his grandfather came from England and established Miller Holdings, and now they are one of the richest people in the US. And now Aiden was practically the head of the company; he was ruling everything and everyone.

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The one with a stone heart—that's how Rob is calling him. Rob was often telling me about his brother. It was not easy for him to hear everyone telling him how smart and talented Aiden is every single day of his life. Because that is exactly what he has heard the last 26 years of his life. One more thing that I noticed is that he hates when someone chooses Aiden over him. He is jealous of his brother. Everybody knows. Even Aiden. Especially Aiden. Aiden loves him and is always protecting him from the sh*t his actions make. I guess that is happening often. What I don't get is why the hell he is here. I remember Rob's words about me not being his type, being too young for him, and him liking older women.

'' I thought I was not going to catch you, Lis. I never considered you doing something like this. I don't know what happened between you two, but you woman, you are an icon." His words are filled with pride. Not the cold-hearted shark I heard about.

''Aiden, what do you want from me? I am done playing his consolation prize; if he is not over my sister, then I am done. I can't believe I was going to marry that jerk."

"Now I'm the one who's scared and anxious. What happened to the girl who was acting all shy and sweet?" Aiden's voice softened as he reached out to gently touch my shoulder, a stark contrast to the turbulent emotions swirling around them.

I sighed, my eyes reflecting a mixture of frustration and vulnerability. "Aiden, it's just... I can't be second best. I deserve someone who chooses me wholeheartedly, not as a substitute. I won't settle for anything less."

Aiden continued comforting me.

"Lis, you deserve so much more than my brother. If he can't see your worth and is still hung up on your sister, then he's the one missing out. You're strong and independent, and you deserve someone who values you for who you are." Aiden spoke with sincerity, his eyes reflecting a depth of understanding.

But Aiden, I thought he was the one. I thought we had something real."

Aiden sighed, a mixture of sympathy and frustration in his expression. "Sometimes, we mistake familiarity for love. My brother has his issues, and it's not fair to you. You've grown, Lis, and it's time you find someone who appreciates the amazing person you've become. You're not a consolation prize; you're a prize worth winning."

My eyes met Aiden's, and I felt a sense of gratitude for his supportive words. "You're right, Aiden. I won't settle for less. I deserve someone who sees me, not my sister. It's just hard to let go of what I thought was real."

Aiden tightened his grip on my shoulder, offering a comforting smile. "I understand, Lis. It's okay to feel hurt and disappointed. But trust me, there's someone out there who will make you forget all about him. You deserve genuine love and happiness."

Aiden and I shared stories of heartbreak and hope. In that quiet moment, a bond formed—one not of romantic intent but of understanding and support. Aiden silently vowed to be there for me as I navigated the challenging waters of healing and rediscovery, recognizing that true companionship often blossomed from shared moments of vulnerability.

The soft crunch of leaves beneath their feet echoed through the quiet park as Aiden and I strolled side by side. The tranquil ambiance surrounded them, offering a peaceful respite from the complexities of life. Breaking the silence, Aiden suggested, "How about we grab a bite to eat, Lis? It might be a good chance to unwind and figure out what steps to take next."

As Aiden casually called me "Lis" during our walk in the park, a strange yet comforting sensation enveloped me. It was more than just a nickname; it felt like a personal acknowledgment that went beyond the constraints of my full name or the generic "Allison" that echoed from my past. In a world where I often felt overshadowed by my sister, each utterance of "Lis" from Aiden seemed to chip away at the invisible barriers that had confined me.

My ex-fiancé had only ever addressed me as Allison, a name that felt heavy with expectations and the constant comparison to my sister. Aiden's use of the affectionate nickname, however, felt like a gentle rebellion against those constraints. As we strolled through the peaceful park, Aiden's choice of name became a quiet celebration of my uniqueness. It offered a sense of comfort and acceptance, unraveling layers of insecurity that had accumulated over time. With each "Lis," the park transformed into a canvas where a new connection blossomed, and I realized that sometimes it took a simple nickname to ignite the spark of something unexpected and beautiful.

I glanced at Aiden, taken aback by the unexpected offer. "Sure, why not?" I replied, a tentative smile playing on my lips. The park's natural beauty seemed to work its magic, dissipating the tension and cultivating a newfound connection between us.

As we wandered towards a nearby café, the casual conversation began to flow effortlessly. Aiden shared anecdotes, and I found myself opening up about my thoughts and concerns. The once-quiet park transformed into a space where two people, who hadn't communicated often before, started to understand each other in a way that felt surprisingly comforting.

Seated in a cozy corner of the café, surrounded by the symphony of birds and rustling leaves, Aiden and I ordered our meals. The setting sun cast a warm glow, creating a subtle enchantment over our impromptu meeting.

With genuine concern in his eyes, Aiden spoke, "Lis, life can be confusing, and sometimes we all need a little help figuring things out. Take your time, and know that you're not alone in this."

I nodded, genuinely appreciating the sincerity in Aiden's words. "I didn't expect this, Aiden, but I'm glad we're here. It's comforting to have someone to talk to, especially someone who's been so understanding."

As the evening unfolded, Aiden and I explored the park's winding paths and hidden nooks, discovering a newfound camaraderie amidst the trees and fading daylight. Aiden's unexpected offer of support became a turning point, transforming a simple walk into a shared journey of understanding and companionship.