My younger sister, Anna, found my fiancé in her bed three weeks before my wedding. So, I took the only man she was ever truly obsessed with and made him fall in love with me.
For years, Anna has used the same excuse: she can’t have her one true love, so she’s free to destroy everyone else’s. Her “one true love” was a guy she had a brief encounter with at a college party four years ago who never called her back. That became her origin story, her justification for the trail of chaos she left in her wake. It started with her best friend, Jess, whose boyfriend was soon waking up to Anna’s good morning texts. When Jess found them in her own bed, Anna’s only defense was a tearful, “You don’t understand what it’s like to lose your soulmate.”
By the time I met my fiancé, Ryan, I knew the drill. I kept him away from family dinners and scrubbed Anna from my social media. For two years, it worked. We got engaged. But I made one mistake: I announced it at Mom’s birthday dinner. Anna’s eyes lit up. “I’m so happy for you,” she cooed, hugging me. “When do I get to meet him?”
A week later, she found him on Instagram through a fake account. We laughed at her desperate messages, and he blocked her. I thought the danger had passed.
Three weeks before the wedding, I was sick with a terrible flu. Ryan was supposed to be at a golf tournament, but a friend called. She’d seen his car parked in the visitor space at Anna’s apartment complex. A cold dread washed over me. I drove over, fever and all, and used the spare key Anna had given me for emergencies.
I found them on her couch. Her head was in his lap, his hand tangled in her hair, both of them half-dressed. She looked up at me, fake tears already welling. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “He just reminds me so much of him.”
I walked out. Ryan didn’t even try to follow. That’s when I decided she would finally learn what it truly felt like to lose.
My opportunity came in the form of Adrien Chen. He was the man Anna was currently dating—a 31-year-old successful architect with the kind of quiet charm that made women melt. Anna had been with him for two months, and she was already calling him “The One.”
I first met him at my father’s 60th birthday party, just two weeks after I’d officially ended things with Ryan. When Anna introduced us, Adrien shook my hand. “Ah, this must be the famous older sister,” he said with a genuine smile. “Anna talks about you a lot.”
“I’m sure she does,” I thought.
During dinner, I watched him. He was attentive with Anna, but cautious, as if constantly gauging her. When she bragged excessively about a building he’d designed, he gently corrected her. “It was a team project.” I saw it then—a subtle wall between them that Anna, in her obsession, completely missed. He wasn’t truly hers.
Later, in the kitchen, I asked Anna how they met.
“It was like in the movies!” she sighed dreamily. “Our eyes locked across the room.” She admitted it took three “casual encounters”—which I translated as her stalking him in his office building—before he finally asked her for coffee.
“He’s the one,” she whispered, the same dreamy tone she used for every man she fixated on. “He just gets… distant sometimes. But men like Adrien don’t open up easily.”
Or maybe he’s just not that into you, I thought.
Later, Adrien and I struck up a conversation about sustainable architecture. For twenty minutes, we talked with an easy, flowing energy. Anna tried to interject but was clearly out of her depth. As he was leaving, Adrien said to me, “We should continue this conversation sometime. It’s rare to find someone who gets it.”
That night, a friend request popped up on my phone: Adrien Chen. I accepted. Two hours later, a direct message appeared.
Thank you for the conversation today. It was enlightening. I’d love to continue our talk about sustainable architecture. Coffee this week?
I stared at the screen for a long time before typing my reply.
Sure. That would be great.
And that’s how it began.
———————–
Our coffee date was at a hidden gem of a café downtown. For two hours, we talked about everything but Anna. The conversation was effortless, intelligent, and deeply engaging. It was the first time since the betrayal that I felt a genuine spark of connection.
“Have you ever found yourself in a situation,” Adrien asked quietly, stirring his cup, “where you know you should leave, but you don’t know how?”
My heart hammered against my ribs. “Are we talking about work?”
“Not exactly,” he said. The unspoken words hung in the air between us.
“What’s stopping you?” I heard myself ask.
“Guilt, mostly,” he sighed. “When someone invests so much in you… it’s hard to just walk away. Even when you know it’s not sustainable. Even when you don’t feel the same.”
Our eyes locked. “Especially when you don’t feel the same,” he added softly.
I should have run. Instead, I reached across the table and touched his hand. “That must be so difficult.”
He looked down at our hands, not pulling away. “It has been. More so recently.”
“Why?”
“Because I met someone,” he said, his gaze intense, “who reminds me what it’s like when a conversation doesn’t feel like work.”
I pulled my hand back, the reality of the situation crashing down. “Adrien… we can’t.”
“I know,” he said, his voice laced with frustration. “I know it’s complicated. I know it’s wrong. But I can’t stop thinking about you since that barbecue.” He stood up, paying the bill. “I should go.”
“Adrien, wait,” I said. “Anna is my sister.”
“I understand,” he said, his eyes full of a sad understanding. “I understand that you’re loyal. Even when the person doesn’t deserve it. It’s one of the things I admire about you.”
He left, and I was left with the echo of his words and the thrilling, terrible knowledge that something had irrevocably shifted. The opportunity for my revenge arrived two weeks later, at our parents’ wedding anniversary.
I arrived late, dressed in a simple navy blue dress. Adrien was there, and when he saw me, his smile made my stomach flip. During dinner, I sat across from him. When Anna tried to make him the center of attention, I deftly steered the conversation back to his work, asking detailed, technical questions she couldn’t possibly answer. We fell into the same easy rhythm as before, a bubble of shared passion that excluded her entirely. I watched her face curdle with frustration.
Later, I found Adrien alone on the porch. “Sorry if I monopolized the conversation,” I said.
“Don’t be,” he replied, moving closer. “It’s refreshing to talk to someone who actually understands.” He paused. “Anna is interested in the idea of my work, but the details… the passion… It can be lonely.”
“I know,” I said softly.
We stood in silence for a moment, the tension thick between us.
“I broke up with her,” he said suddenly.
My heart stopped. “What?”
“Last night,” he confirmed. “I ended it with Anna. Because it’s not fair to be with someone when you’re thinking about somebody else.” He stepped closer, his voice barely a whisper. “Can I kiss you?”
I didn’t answer. I closed the distance between us and kissed him.
It was in that exact moment that the porch door flew open. Anna stood there, her face a mask of disbelief. Her scream ripped through the night.
—————————–
Within seconds, the entire family was on the porch, their faces lit by the patio lights like a shocked audience.
“What are you DOING?” Anna shrieked, pointing a trembling finger at me. “She kissed my boyfriend!”
“Ex-boyfriend,” Adrien corrected softly, which was precisely the wrong thing to say.
“Ex? Since when?” she raged.
“Since last night,” he said, his voice firm. “I told you I needed space. I told you it was over.”
“That’s not breaking up!” she cried.
“I want everyone to know what kind of person my sister is!” Anna declared, turning on me. “You can’t stand to see me happy, can you? You sabotaged my friendship with Jess!”
“I sabotaged nothing,” I shot back, my own anger flaring. “You were with her boyfriend, Anna.”
“That was different! I was going through a hard time!”
“And now I’m going through a hard time!” I yelled. “Or did you forget you destroyed my wedding three months ago?”
A shocked murmur rippled through the family.
“It’s not the same,” she insisted, her voice wavering.
“Why not?” I pressed, stepping toward her. “Why is it that when you ruin lives, it’s a tragedy, but when it happens to you, it’s a betrayal? You did this to hurt me.”
“Maybe I did,” I admitted, and the family gasped. “But you know what, Anna? Even if I planned this, it wouldn’t even begin to compare to everything you’ve done to me my entire life.”
I took a deep breath and faced our family. “You want to know who Anna is? When I was sixteen, she told my boyfriend I cheated on him. It was a lie. When I got into my dream college, she called the admissions office pretending to be me and cancelled my enrollment. When I got a coveted internship, she went to their office and told them I was having mental health issues.”
“And when I finally found someone I loved,” I said, my voice trembling, “someone who wanted to marry me… you took him from me.”
The silence was deafening. “So yes,” I said, looking straight into Anna’s eyes. “Maybe I kissed Adrien on purpose. And you know what? I don’t feel bad about it at all.”
“You’re a liar!” she screamed.
“Am I?” I pulled out my phone. “Because I have the texts you sent your friend Kelly after you were with Ryan. Shall I read them? ‘Mission accomplished. My sister’s fiancé is easier to break than I thought. A few strategic lies, a little alcohol, and voilà. She’ll thank me later.’”
Anna’s face went white.
“‘The best part is that now she’ll be single again,’” I continued reading, “‘so she won’t think she’s better than me anymore.’”
My mother covered her mouth. My father looked like he’d been punched. One by one, other family members began to speak up, sharing their own stories of Anna’s “misunderstandings” and “dramas” that had caused chaos in their lives.
“You were in love with me!” Anna finally shrieked at Adrien, a last, desperate attempt.
Adrien looked at her, his expression pained but clear. “No, Anna. I was never in love with you.” He then turned his gaze to me, and the world seemed to hold its breath. “I’m in love with her.”
A raw, wounded sound escaped Anna’s throat. She collapsed onto the porch floor, sobbing. “You’re all against me! My own family!”
“No one is choosing sides, Anna,” my father said softly. “But your actions have consequences.”
She slowly got to her feet, her face streaked with tears but her eyes cold. She looked at me, and for a second, I saw something like begrudging respect. “You won,” she said flatly. “Congratulations.”
And then she turned and walked away into the night, leaving us all in stunned silence.
—————————-
In the weeks that followed, Adrien and I began to build something real. It was easy, honest, and full of laughter. We explored mountain trails, cooked together, and talked for hours. It was the first healthy, respectful relationship of my life.
Anna, meanwhile, had gone scorched-earth. She blocked me and began a social media campaign about surviving “family toxicity” and cutting out “narcissistic” people. She painted herself as the ultimate victim, the family scapegoat.
“People like Anna can’t function without a villain in their story,” Adrien told me one night. “If it wasn’t you, it would be someone else. The people who matter know the truth.”
He was right. For the first time, I was in a place where her actions couldn’t touch me. I had separated myself. The family had seen her true colors. It was a strange and liberating feeling.
Three months after the party, my mother called. “Anna came by,” she said, her voice bewildered. “She’s in therapy. She brought these.”
When I got to my parents’ house, the kitchen table was covered in handwritten letters. Apologies. To Jess, to our cousin Diana, to Ryan, and even to Adrien. And one for me.
With trembling hands, I read it.
Dear Sister,
I know this is probably too little, too late. But I need to take full responsibility. I intentionally ruined your engagement to Ryan. It wasn’t an accident. I couldn’t stand seeing you have a happiness I’d never found. I’ve sabotaged you for years because I was envious and selfish. I convinced myself I was protecting you, but I was just trying to pull you down to my level.
I know what you did with Adrien was a mirror of my own actions. You were right. I needed to feel what it was like. The difference is, you did it once, as a lesson. I did it for years out of malice.
I don’t expect forgiveness. I don’t deserve it. I’m in therapy now, trying to understand why I do these things instead of just making excuses. I hope you and Adrien are happy. You make sense together in a way he and I never could. I love you, and I am sorry for everything.
Anna
Tears of relief, of closure, streamed down my face.
I met her by chance in a grocery store a few weeks later. She looked smaller, quieter. More mature.
“I got your letter,” I said.
“It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” she admitted. “But necessary.” She looked at me, her eyes clear for the first time in years. “How are things with Adrien?”
“Very good,” I said.
“I’m glad,” she replied, and I believed her. “And I want you to know… I understand why you did what you did. I’m not happy about it, but I get it.”
As she was about to walk away, she turned back. “Can I ask you something?” she said. “Do you think, someday, you could forgive me? Not now. But maybe eventually?”
I thought for a long moment. “I don’t know, Anna,” I answered honestly. “But I’m willing to try.”
She nodded, a small, sad smile on her face. “That’s enough,” she whispered. “More than enough.”
A year later, Adrien proposed on that same mountain trail where we’d had our first honest conversation. Anna didn’t come to our wedding, but she sent a card. Inside, a single sentence was written: Wishing you both a lifetime of happiness.
My revenge started as a plan to make my sister feel the pain she had inflicted on so many others. But it became something more. It became a catalyst for consequence, responsibility, and ultimately, a painful and difficult healing. We will never be the close sisters we were as children; too much damage was done. But we have found a quiet, distant peace. And sometimes, peace is the best you can ask for. It is its own kind of victory.