After Marrying My Younger Brother

The person everyone believed would be absolutely devoted to me…

His heart started to wander.

As for whether he actually cheated, that's something I still need to figure out.

That night, I didn’t say a word, didn’t ask anything.

I did what I always do: brushed my teeth, then climbed into bed.

When I turned off the lights, Wesley was still on his phone.

His fingers moved quickly, like he was replying to someone’s messages.

That girl, he must like her a lot.

Every time he responded or made a call, he couldn’t help but smile.

Lying there with my eyes closed, I suddenly realized it had been a long time since Wesley held me to sleep.

In the past, every night, he would cling to me like an octopus, wrapping himself around me.

He’d complain that he couldn’t fall asleep without holding me.

Now that I think about it… ha, men’s sweet words are so easy to say.

In the dark, I lay there, thinking for a long time.

Thinking about my past with Wesley and about the future.

Until I heard the soft sound of his breathing beside me.

Wesley had fallen asleep.

I gently sat up, stretched my arm, and grabbed his phone from the pillow beside him.

Wesley’s phone password was my birthday, and he even had my fingerprint registered.

Back then, he’d insisted on me recording my fingerprint. I had refused.

I believed there should be a certain level of privacy between people, no matter how close they were.

But Wesley wouldn’t listen. He insisted that he had no secrets from me.

He took my finger and personally registered it on his phone.

Maybe, back then, he was speaking from the heart.

It’s just that he never expected hearts could change.

He had changed so quickly, and now, he was interested in another girl.

If he had foreseen this day, he probably wouldn’t have given me his password.

I opened Wesley’s Instagram. The top profile picture was of a cute girl with a bun hairstyle.

Clicking on it, I found a flood of messages from just the past hour.

There was nothing before that.

It seemed Wesley was quite cautious, deleting messages right after chatting.

He must have thought I was asleep when he forgot to delete the conversation earlier.

They sure could talk—just a little over an hour, and their messages were more than what Wesley and I would share in a whole week.

The girl’s name was Penelope, and it sounded somewhat familiar.

Their conversation had started with her glancing at Wesley at work, then moved to complaints about the awful lunch they had ordered.

They talked about the constant rain lately, and the rock band they both liked.

They had endless topics.

I thought, this must be what being in love feels like.

Always wanting to share everything.

Because Wesley and I were like that before.

Although we were more of the type where he did most of the talking and I said little.

But back then, our chat history felt endless, like it would never run out.

Now, with him and Penelope, although the girl said more, Wesley responded to every single word.

He really paid attention to her, making sure her words never went unnoticed.

The girl was like a little bird, chattering away.

She’d complain about how annoying it was to sit in a car on rainy days, or how her skirt would get wet holding an umbrella to the subway.

Then she’d mention how her appetite had been off lately, and how she’d lost three pounds in a month.

And then, she’d mention how the band was going on tour, but the tickets were too expensive.

Wesley immediately arranged a private car for her for the month.

Penelope sent a pouting emoji.

"The driver’s not you, I want to ride in your car to work."

Wesley replied, "You think I’ll be your driver? Dream on!"

Penelope sent a frustrated emoji.

Wesley sent her a head-pat emoji.

"Good girl, I’ll take you out for a nice meal tomorrow."

"You can’t lose any more weight, I’ll start worrying about you."