After I Was Gone

Before I even had the chance to explain, I saw Bobby take hold of Audrey's hand and disappear from view.

As they turned, that smug little smile on her face sliced right through me.

I walked the streets like a ghost, strawberry cake in hand.

It was always like this. Every time Audrey and I fought, Bobby would take her side.

And me? I would end up buying strawberry cake from the south end of the city to bring home as an apology.

Not because Audrey liked it—she didn't. She just liked watching me drag myself across town, transferring between subway lines and buses for four or five hours, exhausted and humiliated, standing in front of her with a cake and a sorry.

Only then, when I looked sufficiently beaten, would Bobby forgive me for whatever I had supposedly done.

When I opened the front door, Bobby was in the kitchen, preparing Audrey's favorite dish.

From cleaning the fish to slicing it into paper-thin pieces, he did it all himself.

The same brother who once never touched anything in the kitchen had, for her, become a chef.

"Hey, I got her favorite cake. You should have some too," I said.

He glanced at what I was holding, and his expression softened just a little.

I hurried to open the box, carefully slicing the cake and placing the pieces on the table.

"Audrey… I was wrong yesterday. I shouldn't have gotten so upset. Don't take it to heart, okay? Come have some cake."

I lowered myself with every word, practically begging before she finally agreed to sit down.

Bobby poured her a glass of warm milk with gentle care and said, "If it's too sweet, have some milk."

Then he looked up at me, and for a fleeting second, there was something like approval in his eyes. Maybe he thought it was admirable of me to come back and apologize.

But, Bobby… the only reason I came back and asked for her forgiveness was for you. I just wanted to see you smile.

Audrey devoured the cake, smearing cream on her cheek like a child.

Bobby wiped it off for her, his expression soft, doting.

I used to be the one he looked at like that. But the warmth that once belonged to me had long since moved on.

Maybe I stared too long. He noticed.

"Bella," he said slowly, "since you've already apologized, don't hurt Audrey again. Otherwise…"

He didn't finish the sentence, but I already knew what he meant. He thought the way I looked at her meant I was planning to hurt her.

'Bobby, is that really how you see me now? Do you think I'm the kind of person who would deliberately harm someone?' I wondered.

The cozy little moment in front of me pierced my chest. While they sat there, sharing cake and laughter, I stepped quietly out of the room.

That evening at dinner, Audrey chirped excitedly, "Bobby, didn't you promise we'd go to Cranburn this winter break?"

Her eyes sparkled like stars, and Bobby—he never stood a chance.

"Pack your things in the next couple of days," he said. "We'll head out soon."

She clung to his arm, clinging, purring like a cat.

Cranburn. The place I'd always dreamed of visiting. The city where Mom and Dad met.

"Bella, why don't you come with us?" Audrey looked at me with that same sly glint I'd come to know too well. She had no intention of bringing me along.

"No need. Things are busy at the hospital," I replied.

"Hmph. Why ask her?" Bobby cut in, his tone sharp. "She never wants to go anywhere with us. Always some excuse."

I didn't respond. There were more important things waiting for me. As for Cranburn—maybe I'd never make it there.

"That's where Mom and Dad fell in love, Audrey," Bobby added. "Someone without a sincere heart doesn't deserve to go."

His words were like a knife. He still held onto what happened all those years ago.

Back then, when Audrey first came to live with us, she was quiet, careful, almost timid—nothing like the entitled girl she'd become. But it was Bobby who gave her the confidence, piece by piece. He was the one who built her into what she is now.