Choosing the Better Brother

Chapter 1 

Kayla

I sink into the plush cushions of our secondhand couch as the comforting aroma of freshly brewed chamomile tea wafts from the mug cradled in my hands. Zach lounges beside me, his attention fixed on the flickering images of the hockey game on our modest TV screen. Marmalade, Zach’s aloof Maine Coon, curls up on the armrest, her fluffy tail flicking lazily.

“Can you believe Professor Jenkins assigned another group project?” I groan, rolling my eyes. “I swear, he’s determined to make our lives miserable.”

Zach grunts, his gaze never leaving the screen. “Yeah, sounds rough.”

I frown, setting my mug on the coffee table. “Are you even listening to me, Zach?”

He sighs, finally tearing his eyes away from the game. “Of course I am, Kayla. But it’s just another project. You’ll ace it like always.”

“That’s not the point,” I huff, my frustration simmering. “I’m tired of carrying the weight of the entire group. It’s not fair.”

Zach shrugs, reaching for his beer. "Life’s not fair, babe. You just gotta deal with it.”

My jaw clenches, and I feel the familiar prickle of anger rising in my chest. “Easy for you to say. You don’t have to deal with the constant stress and pressure.”

“Oh, come on,” he scoffs, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “It can’t be that bad. You’re just overreacting, as usual.”

I shoot up from the couch, my hands balled into fists at my sides. “Overreacting? Are you serious right now, Zach?”

He rises to meet me, his face hardening. “Yeah, I am. You’re always complaining about something, Kayla. It’s exhausting.”

“Well, excuse me for wanting a little support from my boyfriend,” I retort, my voice trembling with barely contained rage.

“Support? I’m here, aren’t I? What more do you want from me?” Zach throws his hands up in exasperation.

I let out a harsh laugh, shaking my head. “You call this being here? You’re physically present, but emotionally? You’re miles away, Zach. You’re not here.”

He steps closer, his eyes narrowing. “Don’t start with that emotional crap again, Kayla. I’m not one of your psych projects.”

Tears sting my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. “No, you’re not. But you are supposed to be my partner. And lately, it feels like I’m in this relationship alone.”

Zach’s jaw ticks, and he turns away, running a hand through his sandy blond hair. “I can’t deal with this right now. I’m going out.”

He grabs his jacket and storms out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him. The sudden silence is deafening, broken only by the soft purring of Marmalade, who remains undisturbed by the commotion.

I sink back onto the couch, burying my face in my hands as the tears spill over. This isn’t the first time we’ve had an argument like this, and I know it won’t be the last. For months now, it feels like we’ve been constantly fighting, our once-loving relationship reduced to a series of heated exchanges and icy silences.

I glance at the framed photo on the bookshelf, a snapshot of happier times. Zach’s arm is slung around my shoulders, his smile wide and carefree. My own grin matches his, my eyes sparkling with love and laughter. It feels like a lifetime ago.

With a heavy sigh, I push myself up from the couch and make my way to the bedroom. I pull out my battered duffel bag from the closet and start tossing clothes inside. I can’t stay here, not tonight. Not when the tension is so thick I can barely breathe.

I zip up the bag, giving Marmalade a gentle pat on the head before heading out the bedroom door. I’ll crash at a friend’s place for the weekend, and give myself some space to think. But deep down, I know this is just a temporary fix. How much longer can I keep pretending that everything is okay when it’s so clearly falling apart?

Zach and I used to be so in love, so in sync. We were the couple everyone envied, the high school sweethearts who defied the odds and made it work in college. But somewhere along the way, the cracks started to show. The little things that once endeared me to him—his quick wit, his fiery passion—now grate on my nerves, igniting arguments at the slightest provocation.

I’m so lost in thought that I don’t hear the pounding footsteps behind me until it’s too late. A hand grabs my shoulder, spinning me around, and I find myself face-to-face with Zach, his eyes wild with anger.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he demands, his grip tightening on my arm.

I yank myself free, stumbling back a step. “I think it’s best if I stay at a friend’s place tonight. I need some space, Zach.”

He scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. “Space? What, so you can go running to your friends and badmouth me? I don’t think so, Kayla.”

“For fuck’s sake… This isn’t about you!” I explode, my frustration boiling over. “This is about me, and what I need. And right now, I need to be anywhere but here.”

Zach’s face contorts with rage, and for a moment, I’m genuinely afraid of what he might do. “Fine,” he spits, his voice dripping with venom. “You want space? You’ve got it. But don’t bother coming back.”

He grabs my duffel bag and hurls it onto the street, the contents spilling out onto the pavement. I watch in stunned silence as he turns on his heel and storms back towards the apartment, slamming the door behind him with a resounding finality.

I stand there for a moment, my heart racing and my mind reeling. Slowly, I bend down and start gathering my scattered belongings, stuffing them back into the bag with shaking hands. As I straighten up, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in a nearby car window—a broken, lost girl staring back at me.

With a deep breath, I shoulder my bag and turn away, setting off into the fading light with no idea where I’m going, but knowing I can’t stay here.

Lost in thought, I find myself circling back to our apartment building, drawn by some masochistic need to confront the ruins of our relationship. As I approach the front steps, I hear a soft meow and see a familiar flash of orange fur. She must have gotten out during our fight.

“Marmalade?” I whisper, crouching down to scoop up Zach’s beloved Maine Coon. She nuzzles into my arms, purring contentedly, and I feel a sudden surge of anger. How dare Zach toss me aside like this, after everything we’ve been through? How dare he claim sole ownership of our life, our home?

Before I can second-guess myself, I march up the steps and through the front door, Marmalade cradled against my chest. I take the stairs two at a time, my heart pounding in my ears as I reach our floor.

I burst into the apartment, startling Zach from his seat on the couch. He leaps to his feet, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the sight of me, disheveled and defiant, with his cat in my arms.

“What the hell, Kayla?” he growls, advancing on me. “I thought I made myself clear. You’re not welcome here anymore.”

I stand my ground, lifting my chin in a show of bravery I don’t quite feel. “I’m not leaving without Marmalade,” I declare, my voice trembling slightly. “She’s just as much mine as she is yours.”

Zach’s face twists into a sneer, and he lets out a harsh laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You think you can just waltz back in here and take my cat? After everything you’ve put me through?”

“Everything I’ve put you through?” I echo, incredulous. “I’ve been nothing but supportive, Zach. I’ve put up with your mood swings, your selfish behavior, your complete lack of empathy. And for what? To be kicked to the curb like yesterday’s trash?”

He steps closer, his eyes flashing with fury. “You’re delusional, Kayla. You’ve been nothing but a burden, always whining and complaining, always expecting me to fix your problems. Well, guess what? I’m done. I’m done with your drama, your neediness, your constant demands for attention. I don’t want you anymore.”

Tears sting my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me break. “Fine,” I say, my voice cold and hard. “You want me gone? I’m gone. But Marmalade is coming with me.”

Grabbing her food, I turn on my heel and storm out of the apartment, Marmalade still clutched tightly to my chest. I hear Zach’s footsteps behind me, his angry shouts echoing in the stairwell, but I don’t look back. I can’t look back.

I burst out onto the street, gulping in the cool air and the setting sun. My legs feel weak, and I collapse onto the front steps, Marmalade squirming free from my grasp. She settles beside me, her warm body pressed against my thigh, and I bury my face in my hands, finally allowing the tears to flow.

I’m completely stumped. I sit for what feels like an eternity, my shoulders shaking with silent sobs, my duffel bag and Zach’s cat my only companions in the looming darkness. I have no idea what comes next, no clue how to pick up the shattered pieces of my life. But one thing is certain—I can’t go back. I won’t go back. Not now, not ever.

As I sit there on the steps, Marmalade purring softly beside me, I allow myself to imagine a future beyond the pain of this moment. A future where I am strong, independent, and unafraid. A future where I am loved for who I am, not who someone else wants me to be.

It seems like an impossible dream, a fantasy too far out of reach. But as I reflect on how quickly my life has unraveled, I realize that perhaps the impossible is not so impossible after all. Perhaps, with time and healing and a little bit of hope, I can make something new from the remains of my past.