So, here I am, 30 years old, thinking I have finally come into my own. Proud that I know myself better than I did when I was younger and fearful. I am so proud that I have calmed that rebellious youth who went seeking trouble to fill in the empty spaces in my soul. And then my brother brings her home.
She’s tall, with legs that seem to go on for miles, and one, just one dimple in one cheek. She flicks her wavy auburn hair back as she turns to look at me. “You must be the rebellious Angie I’ve heard so much about,” she says, enveloping me in a hug that leaves me reeling and my nose filled with cinnamon and vanilla. “I’m Cathy”, she continues, whispering in my ear. “Don’t ever say I told you this but he loves you so much. I know we’ll be great friends”. ‘This cannot be’, I think in horror. The woman of my dreams cannot be the love of my brother whom I love most in the whole world, more so as he stuck by me when my parents shunned me for being a lesbian. I am distant the rest of the evening as I soak her in, knowing I would never let myself get so close ever again.
That week despite my brother’s protestations, I move out into a studio apartment. I go crazy immersing myself in work and alcohol, telling myself I just need a distraction. Something to be passionate about and this evil desire will go away. I don’t even believe in love at first sight, so I know it is something else. Meanwhile, as I try to get over that one potent shot of Cathy, I avoid my brother using my work as a comic artist to avid so many dates.
One day 4 months ago, I came home early, deciding to work on my comic art til I fall asleep. I had not seen my brother or Cathy in over 2 months and I am certain that in a couple more months I would be able to sit with them and feel nothing but the joy a younger sister should feel when the only person who’s ever had her back finds love. Then my bell rings and not expecting anyone other than the pizza I ordered, I fling the door open…only to come face to face with Cathy.
She plants a hand on my chest and pushes me back, walking into my apartment. My shocked mind cannot even begin to put its scrambled thoughts together. Until she kisses me. I don’t want to, I know I shouldn’t but what my head feels is so at odds with what my body and heart feels. That was the first of many nights we would spend together. The marriage is in 4 months and Cathy insists that we tell my brother and call it off, yet each time I beg for more time, just a little more time before I break his heart.
How do I tell my wonderful brother that his fiance is the love of my life when I know she is the love of his life? But most importantly, how do I solve this without hurting the love of our lives, Cathy?