Living in His Sister's Shadow

At the Keller family's annual charity gala, as light from the crystal chandeliers spilled across the grand ballroom, my fiancé, Eduardo Keller, arrived with Freya Monroe on his arm. She was his childhood friend.

When Freya had a wardrobe malfunction, Eduardo gave her the vintage haute couture gown that was my family heirloom. It was a priceless family heirloom, the very dress I was meant to wear for my debut as the future matriarch of the Keller family. The gown I was saving for our engagement party.

"Freya gets so nervous at large events like this," he explained. "A beautiful dress will give her a little confidence."

I watched calmly as he handed over the dress, my composure holding as Freya slipped into the gown tailored specifically for me.

"You're the best, Eduardo," she cooed, linking her arm through his. "Can I try on your ring, too? That diamond is so dazzling—I just have to see it on my finger."

Unable to stand it any longer, one of our friends interjected, "Gemma spent a month designing that ring with you. You're just going to let someone else wear it? Have you considered her feelings at all?"

Eduardo patiently slid the ring onto Freya's finger, adjusting it slightly before replying nonchalantly, "It's just for tonight. Gemma won't mind. I'll buy her a new limited-edition bag, and she'll forget all about it."

He was right about one thing: I would be happy. Because I was already planning my escape from his world.

But first, I had to honor my promise to Chairman Keller: accept the prestigious scholarship I’d earned and travel to Blackwood National Park to continue my research on rare plants.

I knew that from that night on, our paths would likely never cross again.

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1

I wasn't surprised to see Freya Monroe at the charity gala. In the three years of my engagement to Eduardo Keller, she had always found a way to insert herself into every moment that should have belonged to us alone.

Over those three years, my initial frustration and arguments had simmered into a quiet resignation.

Eduardo always had the same excuse. "Freya is like a sister to me. I've been looking out for her for eighteen years; it's second nature. Don't read too much into it. She'll get married one day, and you're the woman I chose to be my wife."

Just then, Freya glided toward me, wearing the vintage haute couture gown I recognized instantly. A triumphant smirk danced on her lips. "Gemma, Eduardo said you personally invited me to the gala. Thank you so much!"

She gave the skirt a delicate tug, her eyes glinting with undisguised provocation. "And thank you for the dress. I absolutely love it."

I stared at the gown, the sight of it so familiar it was jarring. No matter how hard I tried to remain calm, a fresh wave of hurt washed over me.

The gown was a century-old masterpiece, preserved by generations of top artisans. Thousands of tiny, hand-sewn crystals adorned the fabric, making it one of a kind in all of New York City.

It was the gown I had planned to wear to our engagement party. Now, Freya was wearing it to a charity gala.

Disbelief washed over me as I turned to Eduardo. He wouldn't meet my eyes. "There wasn't enough time to find her a suitable dress," he mumbled. "Besides, tonight is important. She needs to make a good impression."

Freya linked his arm, sticking her tongue out with playful innocence. "Eduardo has always told me you're the most generous and considerate person. You wouldn't get angry over something so small, right?"

I stared straight into his eyes, searching for a flicker of guilt. He knew what that gown meant to me, how I’d been dreaming of wearing it at our engagement party. But his gaze was placid, as if giving my dress to Freya was the most natural thing in the world.

I lowered my head and took a deep breath. The last flicker of hope I’d been clinging to was finally extinguished. "It's fine. It's just a dress. If you like it, you can wear it."

Freya looked like she wanted to push further, but my easy agreement left her speechless. Even Eduardo shot me a surprised glance.

I looked away, swallowing the bitterness in my throat, and forced a smile. "Since it's such an important occasion, you should take her for the opening dance."

He studied me for a long moment before nodding hesitantly. "Alright. I'll come find you right after the opening dance. The final waltz is ours. You have to wait for me."

I nodded and obediently retreated to a corner of the ballroom. Freya eagerly tugged Eduardo toward the center of the dance floor, shooting me a triumphant look over her shoulder.

I opened Instagram and saw the latest post she had just published. A nine-photo carousel of her in my gown, arm-in-arm with my fiancé.

The comment section was instantly flooded.

"Freya, is this your new boyfriend? You look incredible!"

"OMG! Is that Eduardo Keller, the heir to the Keller Group? You two are a perfect match!"

Freya neither confirmed nor denied, simply replying with a coy, "I'm so lucky to have him!"

In the bustling ballroom, I stood alone in the shadows. I could feel the stares of the other guests—a mix of curiosity and pity—prickling my skin, each glance a tiny needle of humiliation.

Still, I made myself stay. I had to see if he would keep his promise. If he would come back for me.