Thanks to My Brother-Obsessed Ex

Three afternoons before the wedding, I was at the hotel double-checking the schedule when my phone suddenly vibrated. The screen showed Tina Woods's name, and I thought she was calling to confirm details about the wedding dress. But when I answered, I heard her voice trembling with tears. "Michael, Drake has woken up! The hospital just called and said he opened his eyes!" The pen in my hand paused for a moment, and a wave of relief washed over me. Drake Woods had been bedridden for two years, and Tina had shed countless tears because of it. But the next second, her words completely crushed me. "Michael, can we postpone the wedding? Drake just woke up; he needs me. The doctors insist that his recovery depends on constant support from his family right now." I frowned, tightening my grip on the edge of the schedule. "Tina, we've had the wedding date set for half a year. The hotel, guests, and wedding dress are all ready. How can you just say 'postpone' and that be the end of it?" "But Drake is my little brother!" Her voice rose, tinged with a hint of hurt. "He just came back from the brink of death. How can I, as his sister, not take care of him?" I was silent for a moment, then patiently said, "I never said you wouldn't take care of him. We can hire a caregiver, or I can accompany you to the hospital every day. The wedding is a big deal for both of us; we can't let everything fall apart just because he woke up." There was a few seconds of silence on the other end, then Drake's weak voice came through, as if deliberately speaking into the receiver: "Tina, don't make things hard for Michael. It's my fault—I shouldn't have woken up at a time like this..." Before I could finish, Tina hurriedly interrupted, "Drake, don't say that! I will definitely stand by you!" Then she turned to me, her tone firm: "Michael, the wedding must be postponed! Otherwise, I won't go through with this marriage! If you don't agree, come to the hospital and apologize to Drake!" I gripped my phone so tightly that my knuckles turned white. This wasn't the first time. Two years ago, Drake was left in a vegetative state after a car accident. I took it upon myself to cover all the medical expenses, searched for experts both at home and abroad, and even invested the money my parents had saved for my startup. Tina was crying, saying I was her rock and that once Drake got better, we would finally settle down. But now, all she sees is her just-awakened younger brother, completely forgetting about our six years together and how hard it was to get this wedding planned. When I rushed to the hospital, a circle of nurses was gathered around the ward. Drake lay on the bed with bandages wrapped around his wrist, and Tina sat by his side wiping away tears. "What happened?" I walked over and asked. "Drake said he didn't want to postpone our wedding just because I had to take care of him, so he cut his wrist with a fruit knife!" Tina glared at me with red eyes. "It's all your fault! If you had agreed to postpone earlier, why would he blame himself and hurt himself?" I looked at Drake; his eyes darted away briefly, but a faint, barely noticeable smugness lingered at the corner of his mouth. Suddenly, I felt utterly ridiculous. This man, clearly two years older than me, always acts like a mama's boy, emotionally kidnapping his sister with self-destructive behavior. And Tina? She always falls for it, every single time. I took a deep breath and said to Tina, "He's an adult now; he needs to be responsible for his own actions. The wedding can't be postponed. If you think your brother is more important than our future, then whether we get married or not doesn't matter anymore." Tina was stunned, probably not expecting me to say something like that. Drake coughed at just the right moment and weakly said, "Tina, please don't argue with Michael. It's my fault... I'm just too scared. I'm afraid you'll stop caring about me after you get married." As soon as he said that, Tina immediately softened, holding his hand and said, "I would never stop caring about you. Never ever." Then she turned to me, her eyes icy: "Michael, you either apologize or postpone the wedding. Pick one." Seeing her so determined, the last bit of hope in my heart finally broke. It turned out that in her eyes, my six years of effort meant nothing compared to her brother's one act of playing the victim.