After He Left, I Chose His Brother

I started packing my clothes from the wardrobe. Only then did I realize how extreme the styles were in the two rows.

The first row had white dresses, pale yellow blouses, light blue sweaters... The second row was filled with black see-through nightgowns, red low-cut ones, sheer lace pieces... All of them were what Xander liked.

He’d make me wear the innocent-looking clothes from the first row when we went out, and demand I change into the sexy, barely-there ones from the second row when we were alone.

"I want you to be a pure little rabbit in public, and a seductress in my bed," Xander always liked to say that.

I bought the latest lipstick, a bright tangerine shade.

"This doesn't suit you." Xander didn't hesitate, reaching for a tissue to wipe my lips clean. "You look lovely with no makeup."

No one would believe it, but I hadn't worn makeup in ten years.

Standing in front of the mirror, I looked at myself. No makeup, but at thirty, I carried a lazy sensuality I didn't have at twenty.

I took off my hair tie, letting my golden curls fall loose. Then I pulled out a black, low-cut bodycon dress from the back of the wardrobe—still unopened, a birthday gift to myself on my thirtieth birthday.

A friend once teased me, "Only a nun would wear a dress that covers even her insteps." I never dared tell her it was the style Xander preferred.

This dress barely covered what needed covering.

I let out a soft breath.

Finally, I could stop catering to others' demands and wear what I liked, what suited me.

The fabric clung to my body, highlighting my shapely hips and baring my fair, smooth legs. The low neckline accentuated the curve of my chest.

I put on makeup—neutral eyeshadow, then that bright red lipstick. Staring at myself in the mirror, I realized I'd forgotten what I was meant to be like after all these years.

I'd always thought my lips were too thin, but now I saw it was just that no lipstick had ever brought out their natural fullness.

Sliding into slender high heels, I smoothed my hair and checked Xander's Instagram. "It's my birthday now. Once midnight hits, it'll be my brother's."

I raised an eyebrow, a thought forming. Xander's brother, from what I'd heard, was quite good-looking too.

When I showed up at Xander's villa, the noisy chatter suddenly fell silent.

All eyes turned to me, and I took a small step back.

"Wow, where did this stunning woman come from?"

"I’ve never seen her before. Is she a friend of Xander’s?"

Even the women looked at me with a mix of admiration and envy. They were all dressed elaborately, but the moment I appeared, everyone else seemed to fade into the background.

Rick walked over holding a wine glass. "Hi there, beautiful lady. Are you here for my brother’s and my birthday party? How come I’ve never seen you before?"

I couldn’t help thinking—Xander’s brother was just like him, in his own way.

"I’m Dalia. Don’t you recognize me?"

As the words left my mouth, the murmurs around us fell silent. I heard a chorus of sharp intakes of breath.

Rick’s smile vanished. His grip on the wine glass tightened, his gaze growing dark. Apart from him, no one could believe that the sexy, alluring woman in front of them was the Dalia they knew. After all, I’d always seemed so innocent in their eyes.

"Goodness, Dalia looks absolutely breathtaking like this!"

"Yeah, it’s weird that Xander picked that plain girl instead."

"I can’t believe my eyes—Grace doesn’t even come close to Dalia!"

"Hey, do you think Xander will regret it when he sees Dalia like this..."

Listening to their words, I felt a jumble of emotions. I’d been the last to know that Xander had moved on to someone new.

Just then, Xander walked over, arm around a girl, smiling broadly. "What’s everyone huddled around talking about? It’s past midnight now—it’s my brother Rick’s birthday. C’mon, let’s all..."

He had his arm around Grace’s shoulders, leading her over to Rick. “Your sister-in-law made a special trip to celebrate your birthday with you. You… ”

Just then, his voice trailed off. I saw his eyes widen slightly; the arm around Grace dropped away, and he couldn’t help loosening his tie.

Xander’s gaze fixed on me, unblinking. In his stunned expression, I caught confusion, admiration, and a desire he was struggling to hold back.

Grace looked up, puzzled. “Xander, who is she?” Her voice was sweet, laced with a heavy, coquettish tone.

“It’s… Dalia,” Xander swallowed hard, his eyes still glued to me.

I finally got a good look at the girl’s face: golden hair in a ponytail, innocent deep blue eyes, a fresh, unmade-up face that radiated purity—exactly like me at twenty. Even the perfume she wore smelled of fresh citrus, light and sweet.

“Oh, you’re Dalia!” Grace blinked her innocent eyes, showing no hint of hostility toward me. “I’ve heard about you. Xander mentioned you—said you’re like a white rose.”

“But, Dalia, you look so beautiful. Not like a white rose… like a goddess!” Her generous praise was cut off by Xander’s cold voice.

“Dalia, who told you to dress like that?”

“Aren’t you ashamed to show up looking like this?”